Second Chance on St. Patrick's Day

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Second Chance on St. Patrick's Day Page 7

by Mia Ford


  He was wearing an Armani suit, a gold Rolex, and a diamond on his pinkie finger that that probably cost more than my law school tuition. He waved down a waiter and ordered another round of drinks, then offered us a relieved smile and nodded toward the door.

  “Ah, here he is now.”

  Uncle Allen and I turned to see a gorgeous blonde in a low cut, short, red, sequined cocktail dress moving through the restaurant toward our table.

  She looked like something out of a Victoria’s Secret commercial as she guided across the floor, as if her feet were barely touching the ground. Every man in the place was gawking at her with their mouths hanging open. The women were gawking, too, myself included, albeit for another reason.

  There was a man behind her, but I couldn’t see him clearly yet.

  He was stopping along the way, shaking hands, patting people on the back.

  When I finally caught sight of his face, I frowned.

  He looked vaguely familiar.

  Tall…

  Broad-shouldered…

  Handsome…

  Holy shit…

  Holy freakin’ shit...

  Holy New Year’s Eve one-night stand shit…

  Reed and Uncle Allen got to their feet to greet Conner McGee and the beautiful woman I assumed was his date, although bringing a date to a business dinner like this was a little out of the ordinary. Still, I had been around enough of these rich guys to know that they liked to flaunt their trophy wives and mistresses as much as they liked to flaunt their money.

  I watched as Conner McGee shook Uncle Allen’s hand, greeted Reed, then introduced the woman as Cassandra Leone, his “dear friend and business associate”.

  I recognized her name immediately.

  Cassandra Leone was the daughter of Augustus Leone, the head of Leone Enterprises, the multinational conglomerate that had interests in shipping, transportation, telecommunications, retail, and a dozen other industries.

  She was reportedly no slouch herself when it came to business.

  If her legend was to be believed, she was even smarter than she was beautiful. Looking into her blue eyes at that moment, I found that incredibly hard to believe. She would always be the most beautiful woman in the room. She made me feel like a ten-year-old boy.

  Then, Conner turned to look at me for the first time.

  The moment our eyes met, we both froze.

  “This is Katherine O’Hara,” Uncle Allen said proudly, putting a hand on my shoulder. “She’s the most brilliant contracts lawyer you’ll ever meet, and my favorite niece. Katie, this is the perpetually late, and somewhat infamous, Conner McGee.”

  “Nice to meet you, Miss O’Hara,” Conner said, offering me his hand, which was warm and firm, just as I remembered it had been on my breasts and between my legs. “And please forgive our tardiness. The uptown traffic is horrendous this time of night.”

  “Yes, simply horrendous,” the woman echoed. They exchanged a little smirk that only I picked up on. It wasn’t the traffic that had thrown them late, of that, I was sure.

  I managed to mutter, “No problem…”

  Conner let go of my hand slowly, letting his fingers slide away, then put his arm around the woman as if he were showing her off to me. “May I introduce Miss Cassandra Leone.”

  “How do you do, Miss Leone,” I said with a nod, tucking my hands behind my back to keep them from shaking. She gave me the once over, her eyes drifting up and down, as if she were sizing me up for a boxing match. Or looking at a piece of raw steak in a butcher shop window. The words “I could eat you alive” came to mind. I wondered if she was there for arm candy or to be part of the contract review.

  Her tone was far more pleasant than I expected it to be. “Nice to meet you, too, Miss… O’Hara, was it?”

  “Yes,” I said with a forced smile. “Please call me Katie.”

  “Like Katie Scarlett O’Hara,” Reed said, referring to heroine in the old movie Gone with The Wind. It had been my mom’s favorite. I had indeed been named after the character played by Vivien Leigh, only my full name was Katharine Ann rather than Katie Scarlett, thank you Jesus.

  Reed held up a finger to signal a waiter, then gestured around the table. “Please, everyone, sit.”

  Conner held the chair for Cassandra. He put his hand on her shoulder and she gazed up with a look that clearly said that they were more than friends and business associates. I made a mental note to Google them both as soon as I was back to my place. I was certain their names would come up together many times.

  Conner sat directly across from me at the round table. I knew he recognized me by the little gleam in his eye, as if our one-night stand on New Year’s Eve was still fresh in his mind. I mean, it was just a couple of months ago, and we weren’t that drunk. At least I wasn’t.

  I remembered the night vividly.

  I had pleasured myself to the memory many nights since.

  I also remembered waking up alone wondering where the hell he went.

  I had to admit, I was a little pissed when I woke up the next morning and he wasn’t there.

  Then Monique reminded me that was the point of a one-night stand.

  To quote my wonderful bestie, “You meet, you fuck, you slither way.”

  What had he called himself?

  Brad?

  Brad the banker…

  And I had called myself…

  Mollie…

  Mollie the paralegal.

  Shit…

  “So, Miss O’Hara,” Conner said as he spread his napkin in his lap and took a quick sip of water. I watched him lick his lips. “Reed tells me that you’re with Yates Hamilton & Booz. You are their preeminent contract law specialist, I believe. That must keep you busy. Very little time to socialize and what not.”

  “I’m just one of many,” I said. The waiter had refilled my wine glass. I took a slow sip and glanced at him from behind the glass, wondering if he was going to spill the beans about our night right here at the dinner table or keep our secret.

  “Don’t be modest,” Uncle Allen said. “Yates Hamilton & Booz has about a hundred lawyers in their contracts department. Katie is their best.”

  “Well, you might be a little biased, Allen,” Conner said with a smirk. “But I seriously doubt it.”

  I watched the skin around Uncle Allen’s eyes tighten. He was half Irish and half Italian. He didn’t tolerate fools very well. “Meaning?”

  Conner took a second to order a scotch rocks for himself and a Manhattan for Cassandra when the waiter came by. He held out his hands and smiled at me.

  “Meaning that you’re not the kind of man who would call on someone just because they’re related to you,” he said respectfully to Allen. “If Miss O’Hara is here on your behalf, I suspect it’s because she is the best contracts attorney in the city, not because you’re her uncle.”

  Uncle Allen narrowed his eyes at Conner McGee for a moment, sizing him up. I was waiting for all hell to break loose, until Conner smiled, and Uncle Allen smiled back.

  “You’re right on that point,” Uncle Allen said. “She’s here because she is the best at what she does, not because she’s my niece.”

  “I believe you might know my father, Mr. Benson,” Cassandra said, interrupting with a smile that made Uncle Allen’s eyebrows go up. Her voice was smoky, seductive, like Lauren Bacall’s in her youth. “Augustus Leone?”

  Uncle Allen had never been married. He was a confirmed bachelor with a long line of broken hearts in his wake. A rich, good looking man with a heart of gold. There was no shortage of women who would love to have gotten their hooks into him. I’d seen him in action at social functions. Normally, very calm and cool, but he was having a hard time keeping the twinkle that was in his eye from blinding the room.

  “Yes, that’s right,” he said, picking up his tall glass of draft beer and lifting it to her. “Auggie and I have known each other for years. We serve on several boards together. And please, call me Allen.”

  “Only
if you call me Cassandra,” she said with a smile that made him gulp down the beer. Wow, she was good. She was very good. It was no wonder she and Conner McGee made such a good team—if that’s what they were.

  “O’Hara is Irish,” Reed said. He patted Conner on the back. “And McGee is…”

  “Uh, Irish?” Conner said, rolling his eyes at me. “One thing you’ll learn about Reed, Miss O’Hara, is that he has an amazing grasp of the obvious.”

  “Where are you from originally?” Cassandra asked, giving me a warm look that almost made me think she was actually interested rather than simply making conversation.

  “Um, Boston, originally,” I said. “South side.”

  “You don’t have the Southie accent,” Conner said. He laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them. Damn, he was good looking. I could feel him undressing me with his eyes.

  “Oh, she can still go full Boston on you,” Uncle Allen said. “Like her mother.”

  “I’ve worked hard to lose the accent,” I said. “At least when I’m not in Boston.”

  “I think it’s a lovely accent,” Cassandra said.

  “It’s lovely until you say things like bah, and cah, and fah,” I said. “Then, not so much.”

  “What’s the old line?” Reed asked. “Let’s get in the cah and go down to the bah because it’s not that fah?”

  They all laughed. I smiled and bobbed my head. Jeez, like I haven’t heard that one a million times before. “Yeah, it’s hard to be taken seriously here in New York when South Boston comes out of your mouth.”

  “Ah, the waiter,” Reed said as the waiter returned with another round of drinks. He picked up the menu in front of him and nodded around the table. “I’m starving. Let’s order.”

  “Yes, let’s,” Conner said, picking up his menu. He looked directly at me. “Order anything you like, Miss O’Hara. The more expensive, the better. Reed will be picking up the tab.”

  “That’s good to know,” I said, letting my eyes linger on his. I could feel myself getting wet just looking at him. Memories of him naked on top of me flashed through my mind. The feel of hard, lean muscle beneath my hands. His head buried between my legs. His cock in my hand. The taste of him in my mouth. The sensation of him sliding slowly in and out me.

  “Katie? Katie?”

  I blinked at the sound of Uncle Allen’s voice. I turned with a blank look on my face. “Hmm?”

  He pointed toward the waiter, who was standing with a pen and pad waiting for my order. I glanced at Conner. He was smiling at me. I could see the devil dancing in his eyes. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks.

  I quickly let my eyes drop to the menu, took a few seconds, then ordered the filet mignon.

  “That sounds good,” Conner said, closing his menu and holding it out for the waiter. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

  Chapter 14: Conner

  I could barely believe my eyes when Cass and I walked into the Roxie and found our party waiting for us at a corner table. We were a few minutes late, but it couldn’t be helped. Besides, it was impossible for me to turn Cass down when she was in heat. Which was most of the time.

  Sitting at the table was Reed and Allen Benson. Allen looked perturbed that we were late, and Reed already looked drunk. There was a woman sitting next to Reed who kept her seat. I figured it was Allen’s hired gun lawyer, so I ignored her while I greeted the fellows. When I finally set my gaze on her, I felt the breath catch in my throat.

  Sitting next to Allen was Mollie the paralegal, the girl that I had had the one-night stand with on New Year’s Eve. I knew then that Mollie wasn’t her real name and that she probably wasn’t a paralegal. I would have never guessed that she was a hot shot lawyer with a firm like Yates Hamilton & Booz. They only hired the best. And if she was sitting here representing a guy like Allen Benson, she had to have been the cream of the crop.

  My mouth dropped when I looked at her. She looked nothing like she did then. Her long blonde hair wasn’t down. She wasn’t wearing a tight sweater that showed off her big tits and skinny jeans that showed off her ass. She looked like every other female lawyer in town. Frumpy and boring as hell. Only I knew better. This girl was anything but frumpy and boring. This girl was a fucking firecracker. And I still dreamt of her lighting my fuse.

  We both muttered our hellos and tried to pretend like we’d never seen each other naked. I sat directly across from her, which was a mistake because she kept distracting me, doing little things like licking wine from her lips and giving me those dreamy eyes. I tried to ignore the memory of her naked body, tits flouncing as she rode my cock like a rodeo bull. I took a drink to wash away the taste of her memory from my tongue. Despite my best efforts, my cock grew rock hard beneath the napkin in my lap.

  Dinner was the usual business-casual chit chat, most of it made with Molly—I mean Katie—stealing glances at me while the others talked. Our eyes met several times and locked for a moment, moving on before it became too obvious that we were gawking at each other.

  It was obvious that we both remembered that night well.

  How could we not remember it?

  It was one of the most amazing nights of my sexual life and hers, took judging by the way she screamed my fake name and dug her nails into my back.

  We sipped our drinks and let the others make small talk.

  Where are you from originally?

  How’d you end up in New York?

  How’d you get into that business?

  What do you like most about the city?

  Blah, blah, blah…

  I would have been bored to shit if not for the gorgeous Irish lass sitting across from me trying to look interested in the conversation. I took the time to let my eyes take inventory of her now that I was sober.

  She wore very little makeup because she didn’t need it.

  She was dressed in a black business suit and white silk blouse that buttoned to the neck.

  She wore no jewelry other than a simple watch. No ring on her finger. That made me smile.

  Her long hair was pulled back at the sides and clipped behind her head.

  The light gleamed in her eye when she looked at me.

  We were having a mental conversation all our own while Allen and Reed fawned over Cassandra.

  “So, Katie O’Hara, been in New York long?” I asked quietly, so the others wouldn’t feel like they had to stop their chatter and join ours.

  “A few years,” she said formally. “I moved here right after law school to join Yates Hamilton & Booz.”

  “I’ve heard that Yates Hamilton & Booz has a wonderful team of paralegals,” I said playfully. “In fact, do you know a paralegal named Molly who works there by any chance? I met her last New Year’s Eve at this little dive bar off Times Square. An amazing girl. Very… inventive.”

  “I don’t know her,” she said casually. “I’d be happy to ask around for you.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “She’s probably moved on by now.”

  “I’m sure she has.” She leaned into the table and lowered her voice. “You know how girls get when they wake up alone.”

  I smiled and lifted my drink. “Touché.”

  She sipped her wine and dabbed a napkin to her lips. In my mind’s eye I could see her on her knees in front of me, devouring my cock like an idol to be adored.

  She asked, “How about you, Conner McGee? Been in the city long?”

  “Yes, born and raised upstate. Moved here right after college to join Price Bean & Whitlock. Reed is the guy who recruited me out of Harvard. So, yes, New York City’s been my home for ten or eleven years now. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  “I’m told that Price Bean & Whitlock is a fine firm,” she said with a smile, although I detected an air of sarcasm in her voice, but I let it go. Most lawyers hated investment bankers and vice versa, mainly because we ended up fighting over the last nickel left in our clients’ pockets.

  I decided that it was time to change
gears to give my hardon time to ease. I nodded with my eyes at Allen Benson and said, “I assume you’ve read our offer to buy Benson Digital?”

  “I have,” she said, lacing her fingers together on the table in front of her. Her nails were neat and short, without color. She pressed her thumbs together and arched her eyebrows at me.

  She was such a stark contrast to the women I was normally attracted to. She was what Reed would call a “Plain Jane”. Then again, Reed didn’t spend New Year’s Eve with her all drunk and naked, banging the shit out of the wall with the headboard.

  There was nothing plain about Mollie the paralegal.

  Or Katie the lawyer.

  “And?” I asked, eyebrows up.

  “And?”

  I leaned in with my elbows on the table and the glass of scotch between my hands. “And do you see anything that might prevent this deal from going through as planned?”

  “No, not on the surface,” she said, shaking her head. “Still, I’d like to review it with your team once more before I advise my client to sign.”

 

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