She felt his lips brush against her ear as he murmured gently, “Take my hand and hold on, baby. Two more and we’re done. Nothing to it.”
She latched onto his strong hand and clamp down hard. Although she’d just told herself virtually the same thing, she scoffed at his words. Nothing to it? That was easy for him to say. Still, it amazed her how he always knew what she was thinking, and exactly what she needed. As the final two strokes fell low across her cheeks near her thighs, she hissed at the fiery burn.
“That’s the last,” he whispered, shifting beside her.
She moved into him without hesitation, her arms winding around his waist, anchoring herself to his sturdy frame. As she leaned into him, she felt his hands slide down to cup and hold her burning backside. Biting her lip, she fought back the tears.
“Please rub me, Ethan. I’m on fire.”
He squeezed her gently, caressing her heated flesh with his broad palms. It felt good, so good, that she whimpered as he eased her.
“Look at me, Lanie.”
She tilted her head back and melted into the warm depths of his eyes.
“Better?”
He wasn’t referring to her rear end, and she knew it. “Yes, sir. I needed that so badly.”
“You’ve been building toward that for several days. What’s wrong?”
She looked away briefly, but he wouldn’t let it go. He squeezed her ass harder and pulled her hips up against him. “We don’t have much time left. Talk to me.”
“The signing of the lease on the new office, the first payroll, the computers, iPhones, security system… all of it. Money’s flying out, but none is coming in yet. It’s got me worried.”
“Lanie.”
“I know. We’ve got cases and the first billing hasn’t even gone out yet. I’m this close to having people pay in cash. It’s crazy, but what can I say? I’m a freak.”
“No, you’re a perfectionist. Do I need to explain that again?”
“Please don’t,” she laughed softly.
He smiled as he kissed her, the tension released. Then he leaned down and grabbed her panties. Tenderly, he placed a kiss low on her belly, just above her mound before he eased them up and over her butt, followed by her pants. The zipper came up next and he fastened her button. Lastly, he smoothed down her blouse and jacket. Reaching over to release the stop button, he kissed her lips. “I love you, beautiful.”
As the elevator began to move, he slid an arm around her and gently cupped her behind while she leaned into him. Angling her head, she peered up into his beloved face. “What was that vile thing you used, by the way?”
He grinned. Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew a short plastic stick with a black rubber tip. Holding it out to her, he said, “Pull.”
She did and the stick extended to about eighteen inches. She stared at it in fascination, never having seen one before.
“It’s a telescoping cane: pocket sized, lightweight, perfect for when my girl gets sassy and needs a hard lesson on the fly.”
Heat crept into her cheeks. She loved it when he called her his girl. “Do you carry that with you all the time?”
“No, but the idea has merit. I put it in my pocket the day of the lease signing and there it has stayed, waiting for the precise moment when it was needed. I was an eagle scout and well, you know the motto.”
“And out it came in an elevator. Who’d have thought? I’m amazed at how much calmer I feel, more centered. You know me pretty well, don’t you?”
“Most definitely.”
The doors slid open. His hand rose to the small of her back as he guided her out into the Top of the Hub. A spectacular view of the Boston skyline greeted them from the lobby of the 5-star restaurant. Seemingly, Boston was laid at their feet, all lit up and twinkling below the clear night sky. Lanie walked forward to the floor to ceiling windows and admired the cityscape as Ethan gave the maître d’ his name. Their table wasn’t quite ready, so they were shown to the bar to await their distinguished guests.
Heads turned as Ethan passed, both male and female, all shooting him admiring glances. She didn’t blame them. He was sexy as hell in his heather gray suit and burgundy tie. She could hardly keep her eyes off of him, herself. Evidently, the same went for their redheaded waitress, who eyed him hungrily as she led them to a table by a window. Preening for him in her clingy black top and short skirt, Lanie fumed as a goodly portion of her large boobs jiggled precariously over the top of her dangerously low neckline. She leaned forward as she flirted outrageously and Lanie feared if she bent over another fraction of an inch, they would pop out and injure Ethan or some innocent bystander. Pushed up practically to her chin, they appeared grossly unnatural. Lanie shook her head in disgust, not seeing how any man with functioning eyes could think the mammoth melons were real, let alone attractive.
When Red reached out with her red tipped talons, like the vulture she was, Ethan pulled away from her touch. That’s my man, Lanie cheered inwardly, but her anger flared. The nerve of the woman; was she invisible by his side? Having had enough, Lanie cleared her throat, earning a cursory glance from the flamboyant woman. She raised her left hand and flashed her wedding rings in warning. The bitch actually shrugged as if marriage wasn’t about to stand in the way of what she wanted, but she had enough sense to tone it down a tad as she laid down two cocktail napkins and an appetizer menu. Then, she spun with a flip of her brazen hair and winked at Ethan over her shoulder, promising to get back to him in a few.
Lanie frowned after her, livid. As she glanced around the crowded lounge, she ignored Ethan’s amused grin. Most of the women wore evening wear, cocktail dresses for the most part, making Lanie feel woefully underdressed. She’d come straight from court, with little choice but to wear her conservative suit, her hair up in her signature French twist. By comparison she was dull and completely unremarkable. She should at least check her hair and makeup, maybe kick it up a notch since it was evening. She excused herself as soon as they were seated. “I’m going to freshen up, honey.”
He stood as she did, and bent his head to kiss her cheek. “Do you want something from the bar?”
She turned until her lips brushed his ear and whispered, “After that scene in the elevator, I’d love to have a screaming orgasm.”
Pulling back, Ethan shook his head, giving her a flash of his brilliant white smile. “Me too, baby, but I’m not asking our waitress for one. Not today, not ever. She’s scary.”
“Mm,” she murmured as she eyed the overblown redhead taking orders nearby. “Smart man. She’d probably take it as an offer and spread eagle right here on the table.” As Red bent over to collect some glasses, Lanie couldn’t suppress her grimace as her skirt edged up higher and exposed a good deal of thigh. When she straightened, she noticed that her boobs were testing the limits of her top, her bra evidently not up to the job of wrangling the titanic twins and keeping them contained. “Ask for a vodka shooter. I can wait until later for the other.”
He pulled her against him and gave her a lip-lock so steamy it was worthy of the silver screen. It drew the attention of several of the patrons nearby, and thankfully Big Red noticed too. “That should hold her off for a few minutes, but hurry back. Without you, I’m unarmed and she’s loaded for bear. I’m afraid if she gets close, that top is gonna give way and take out an eye, at the very least.” He shuddered in mock horror.
Lanie laughed. “I thought the exact same thing, sexy.” She cupped his cheek and wiped the lipstick from his mouth with her thumb. “I’ll be back in a jiff to protect you. If she gets too pushy in the meantime, just whip out your cane and hold her at bay like a lion tamer. Be careful, though. She may try to mount you, because I think she’s in heat.”
As she walked away, she heard his bark of laughter. With a smug grin, she purposefully crossed directly in the enemy’s path and gave the woman the glare that had broken many a hostile witness under cross examination. It appeared to work beyond the courtroom, because Red became flust
ered and promptly spilled the beer she was serving right in her patron’s lap. The waitress gaped at her as if she had some magic power that made her spill the beer. Lanie simply stared at her, letting the power of the Ice Queen do its thing. As she tried to sop up the mess, Lanie grinned with satisfaction. Yeah, beeotch, don’t mess with the real alpha kitty and you best stay away from my man.
She sauntered toward the restrooms, looking back at the last minute, she found Ethan’s eyes on her. He wore an amused look, obviously having taken in the whole scene. She beamed at him and gave a little wave, feeling no qualms about leaving him on his own now. But she planned to hurry back all the same.
Chapter Seven
As she entered the ladies room, she bumped into a familiar face from court. Victoria Studor, the judge that presided over the Deever’s trial. “Judge Studor,” she managed. “This is a surprise.”
“It is? Didn’t Ethan tell you we were meeting for dinner?”
“We’re having dinner with the chief justice and his wife.”
At her nod, Lanie realized what an idiot she was and wanted to kick herself. “I’m having a blonde moment, obviously. Ethan always calls him Ray, but it’s Raymond Studor. I never put you two together.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry, dear. Actually, it’s refreshing not being part and parcel with Ray for a change. We’ve been married over thirty years and people see us as a matched set all too often. Although early on, I was only seen as the woman behind the man with the gavel.”
“Living in the shadow of a formidable man has its challenges. I can relate. Although Ethan works very hard at keeping me out in the light.”
“He is doing an excellent job of it too. I’ve heard the buzz about town of your new firm and Ethan’s name has never been mentioned. Congrats by the way. It’s about time two young, talented women rattled some cages and made the establishment take notice.”
“You mean the good ol’ boys club?”
“Yes, indeed,” the judge said with a huff. “The culture of misogyny in the legal community has gone unchecked for entirely too long.”
“Amen to that. Most successful men owe thanks to the hard working women who helped get them there. Like me, until recently,” Lanie added, thinking of WW&S. “And in my case, receiving very little praise and much less reward.”
“I can relate. I was a junior associate working for a bunch of pricks once, too.”
Surprised, Lanie gaped at the usually reserved woman’s language. She in turn laughed at her reaction. “Look in the mirror, dear. Your expression is priceless.” The older woman put her arm around Lanie and gave her a squeeze. “I’m like everyone else beneath my robes. I put my panties on one leg at a time.”
Gasping with wonder, Lanie exclaimed. “That’s what Ethan said earlier about your husband.”
“Professor Fischer was talking about my husband putting on panties? Will wonders never cease?”
“Oh! No… I didn’t mean—” Lanie stammered.
“I’m teasing, dear,” she winked. “Besides, the chief justice wouldn’t wear my panties, too constricting under a robe. He’s a boxers kind of man.”
Lanie’s face ignited, burning furiously at the outrageous announcement. How had this innocent conversation gone so astray. Although an attractive older woman, Victoria was close to sixty if she was a day and her husband was at least five years her senior. What they wore beneath their robes fell into the TMI category in her opinion, and she preferred to remain blissfully ignorant. She decided it was best to remain silent than risk inserting her foot farther into her mouth.
“You’re the complete opposite of who you are in court, if you don’t mind my saying so,” Victoria said.
If she did mind, it was too late to say, so Lanie said nothing.
Victoria continued, thoughtfully, “I always thought you were cold and detached. Not that there is anything wrong with that, especially during a murder trial of that magnitude. But to spend time after hours with someone like that, well… I have to admit I’m relieved. I thought dinner would be a long, frigid ordeal.”
It was Lanie’s turn to smile. “Not too excited about having dinner with the Ice Queen, were you?”
“You’ve heard that?”
“Honey, I’ve been called worse to my face, but usually out of earshot of the bench.” She grimaced, realizing she had just called a judge honey. “Excuse me, your honor, I didn’t mean to be so disrespectful.”
The judge waved that off as she demanded, “Who dared call you that to your face?” She sounded outraged on her behalf.
“Joel Simpson, the Assistant DA, for one, in addition to every prosecutor in his office. Even Cecily Blackwell.”
“That’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black,” she snorted. “I heard Cecily broke it off with her fiancé on a used napkin she taped to his door for all to see.”
“I heard that. It’s awful. I rather felt sorry for him the poor man.”
“Don’t. Her ex is a pig. He’s been telling frigid fiancé jokes around the office for months. Evidently, she was so cold that instead of a tube of lube, he kept a can of de-icer in the nightstand.”
Lanie snickered, she couldn’t help it. When she saw the judge trying to suppress her own amusement, her hand covering her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to contain it, she lost it. They both did, laughter echoing off the tile until their eyes watered.
“I’m sorry. I recognize that women should stick together and if any of my feminist friends heard me repeat that, I’d be drummed out of N.O.W., and though I shouldn’t perpetuate frigid women jokes, you gotta admit, knowing Cecily, that one is damn funny.”
“It makes me wonder how many similar ones they’re telling about me.” As Lanie put that thought into words, her laughter faded and was replaced with a small frown.
“Plenty, I’m sure because you kick their asses continually and threaten their manhood, like Cecily. I read somewhere you need five distinct character traits to be a good trial lawyer—plausibility, inquisitiveness, imagination, a considerable amount of arrogance, and a healthy dose of swagger. The challenge for us women is to pull all of them off without being subjected to the double standard. If a man shows these traits in court, he’s considered a success and labeled a badass, but if a woman acts the same way, she’s a heartless, cocky bitch. I see it every day in the halls outside my courtroom. Take the job you did in the Deever’s case, for example, you were all of those things and more. You made the plaintiffs’ attorneys look like fumbling imbeciles by comparison. It was a legal masterpiece, Lanie, which for a fifth year attorney is very impressive and everyone knows it, especially opposing counsel.
“Fourth year.”
She grinned. “Even better.”
“That case took a toll and really challenged my ethics. I’m just relieved he was convicted of a capital crime in the great state of Texas, and that he’ll pay for it with his life rather than preying on more innocent women. It tore me up inside to have to defend him.”
“You can’t let it get to you, Lanie. In our judicial system a lowlife snake has a right to a defense like anyone else.”
Lanie tilted her head and considered the judge who once again echoed Ethan’s words. “Are you related to my husband by chance?”
“He’s given you the same lecture, eh? Nothing any seasoned attorney couldn’t tell you, honey. We’ve all been through it.”
“I’m sure. But maybe if I hadn’t been quite so efficient, he would have been convicted here.”
“Giving a client a subpar defense wouldn’t challenge your ethics?” The judge paused, but didn’t seem to expect an answer. She was very perceptive. “So, is the Deevers case the reason you left WW&S?”
“Partly. It was also because I got tired of working for pricks.”
“Touché.” This she said as her lips tipped up into a huge grin. “You know what the joke is in the community for that acronym, don’t you?”
“I don’t believe I do.”
“Wanker, Weiner
, & Schlong.”
Lanie cracked up. It was perfect, although the last one for Simons was being overly generous she was certain. “How did I work there for four years and not hear that?” She eyed the judge reflectively, noting that her wit and wisdom, combined with Ethan’s earlier attentions had definitely improved her mood. “You’re very easy to talk to, your honor, I feel like I’ve known you forever just from this little chat in the ladies room.”
“Call me Vicki, please, and I feel the same way. But we’ve gabbed for a good while. I suppose we should go find our men.”
“I’m surprised Ethan hasn’t sent out a search party already. He worries.” As she leaned toward the mirror to touch up the color on her lips, the hostess came walking in as if on cue.
“Mrs. Fischer?” she called, her eyes landing on Lanie. “I’m sorry, but your husband asked me to check. He was afraid you were ill.”
Lanie’s eyes flew to Vicki’s reflection. “See what I mean?”
Lanie told the hostess to assure Ethan she was fine and would be right out. When she left, Vicki said, “I think it’s sweet. A lot of husband’s wouldn’t care or would be put out by the wait.”
“Not mine.” She countered, shaking her head. “Don’t you dare tell him this, but I think it’s sweet too. I like that he is protective.”
“Ray is the same way. My health and safety are two subjects that he seems to think are his domain, which I give him freely because he stays out of my career. The rest—money, friends, spoiling grandchildren, and so many other important decisions like hair color—are solely up to me.”
Lanie’s eyes automatically traveled to her auburn hair, which she wore in a chin length bob. The judge was still a very attractive woman. Lanie hoped she looked half as good at her age.
“Ray’s a little old fashioned in certain ways, but I love the old coot all the same.”
Lanie’s mind flashed on an image of Victoria over her husband’s knee with her judicial robes lifted out of the way. Good grief! What a thought. The woman was probably referring to opening car doors and pulling out her chairs, not spanking. Mentally shaking herself, she tried to pick up the thread of their conversation.
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