Dating a Lawyer (The Dating Series Book 3)

by B. T. Love

  God, that woman and her pen. “We don’t have time for your anxiety, Ms. Balkner,” I said, sounding like more of a jerk than I had intended.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like you’ve got me figured out, Mr. Hunter.” She clicked her pen and put it to the paper in front of her, writing something down. After a short moment she cleared her throat and looked back up at me. “And what exactly does your client want?”

  I looked at my paper to make it appear that I was going over my notes, although I already knew all the details that were written down on it. I needed those few short seconds to compose myself. I could feel a tight feeling in my chest, a feeling I had never dealt with before when meeting face to face with another lawyer. It must have been her beauty that was meshed so evenly with her obvious intelligence that made my thoughts fumble around. I was now entering round two of getting my head back in the game. “Well,” I began, “let’s start with the beach house in Maui.”

  She chuckled and looked over at Steve. “The beach house in Maui,” she repeated. “Of course she wants the beach house in Maui.”

  “Why . . . why would you want to take that from me Claire?” Steve asked.

  “She said you acquired the beach house during the time you were married,” I answered.

  “Yes but it belonged to my mother. She left it to me when she passed away.”

  “I was the only one who used it,” Claire said in her usual snotty tone.

  Steve shook his head in disbelief. “That’s because it was too hard for me to go there. You knew how close I was to my mom . . . How could you do this to me?”

  “I tried to comfort you when she died but you didn’t want my help.”

  “Yeah, you tried comforting me by shoving a bottle of vodka in my face. I didn’t want to drink my problems away like you tended to do.”

  “So,” I cut in, “what you’re saying is that your wife tried helping you in a time of emotional need and you pushed her away, and when she needed you emotionally you pushed her away then as well. That to me is evidence enough that the relationship was lacking in areas that your wife needed fulfillment in. She entered into a marriage expecting those needs to be met and when they weren’t she took the necessary actions she felt she needed to take to survive the relationship.”

  “Survive the relationship?” Roxanne repeated. “You’re treating this as if it were a case of domestic abuse.”

  “Well, I certainly see it as a case of emotional abuse.”

  She tossed her pen down on the table. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then we will counter your emotional abuse claim with one of our own.”

  I smiled and sat back in my seat, crossing my arms in front of me once again. “And how is it that my client emotionally abused your client?”

  “Seriously? Have you even been listening to this conversation or are you too busy listening to the egotistical voices in your head?”

  I chuckled at her comment. “My client was simply reacting to how she was being treated.”

  “I can say the same thing about Steve.”

  “I also want alimony,” Claire cut in to our argument. “And the Ferrari.”

  “Maybe it would be easier if you make a list of what you don’t want, Mrs. Thompson,” Roxanne said with sarcasm.

  “We can do that,” I countered with confidence.

  Roxanne’s eyes settled back on me. “You have no conscience whatsoever do you?”

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll discuss your terms with my client in private. He needs time to consider everything that your client is asking for, and I don’t want him making any decisions right now.”

  “That’s fine,” I said as I stood up from the table. I gathered my papers and placed them neatly in my briefcase before closing it and locking the locks back into place. “Call me when you’ve decided on your terms.”

  Claire stood and flipped her hair behind her. “Thank you Bradley,” she said while shooting me the smile of hers that I hated the most.

  Roxanne took her pen back into her grasp and subconsciously tapped in on the table. I nodded politely to Claire and held out my hand, motioning for her to leave. As I followed her out I locked eyes with Roxanne and smiled. “Give your poor table a rest. You’re beating it to death.”

  “Like I’ll be doing to you,” she fired back.

  My smile widened. “Who’s the liar now?” I winked at her and left the room, closing the door gently behind me. I actually didn’t want to leave; I enjoyed our banter too much to give it up.

  As I walked back into the waiting room Nancy stood up from her chair with a wide smile. “Goodbye Mr. Hunter.”

  I smiled politely at her as I held the door open for Claire. “Goodbye, Nancy.”

  * * *

  I stared up at my ceiling, alternating my gaze between the shadow of the plant that was running up the wall and the football that I was throwing repeatedly into the air above me. It was the only way I found comfort these days because it involved two important aspects of my life: my parents. The shadow of the plant soothed me because it had belonged to my mother. They all did, actually; every last one in the house belonged to her. When I moved my dad here I refused to let him give them to anyone else. I needed them. It was the only connection to my mom that I had left. Well, besides my dad. I loved my dad; I loved how we used to run around the field and play football together. But now he could barely walk around the living room, let alone toss a ball around. So football and plants were my two constants that soothed me in my personal life.

  And then there was Kitty. How could I forget Kitty? What a good boy he was. He was another comfort to me on nights that were filled with fear of my future, fear of losing my last parent. Like tonight.

  My dad knocked on the door, his action making me feel like a teenager even though I owned the house. “Come in,” I said.

  Kitty lifted his head and wagged his tail at the sight of my dad. “Hello, Kitty,” he called out as he entered the room. Kitty jumped off of my bed and met his hand, giving it a lick. “Good boy. You’re a good ol’ boy.”

  I smiled at the sight and then looked back at my ceiling.

  “You’ve got the football out,” my dad said as he sauntered slowly to the end of my king-sized bed and sat down on its edge.

  “Yep.”

  “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

  “A lot of things,” I sighed, throwing the ball in the air above me.

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  He groaned and patted Kitty’s head, which was now resting on his knee. “You know, it’s not good to bottle up what’s inside of you all the time. It won’t hurt to just tell your dad what’s wrong.”

  I caught the ball and laid it down next to me. “What do you want to know, Dad?”

  “I want to know why you’re in here on a Friday night when you could be out socializing. I mean, you’ve made friends since you’ve been here. Those guys you go drinkin’ with are a fun bunch.”

  I put my arm behind my head. “I don’t feel like drinking tonight.”

  “Well I do.” He leaned to the side and pulled a silver flask out of his back pocket.

  I looked over at it clenched tightly in his hand, the image bringing a much needed smile to my face. “Seriously?”

  “As serious as a fart in a match factory.”

  I shook my head and chuckled at his choice of words. “You can’t drink with your meds, Dad.”

  “Hey, you only live once, right? And who knows how much time we all have left. I’m livin’ on borrowed time as it is . . .”

  My smile faded and I looked back up above me, my eyes trailing along the long shadow of my mom’s plant. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “Here,” he said, tossing the flask at me.

  It hit my chest with a thud. “I don’t want this shit,” I said, picking it up and tossing it back at him.

  H
e took it back into his hand. “Well if you won’t drink any I guess I’ll have to drink some for the both of us.” He unscrewed the silver cap and brought it to his lips, downing half of whatever was inside.

  “Feel better?” I asked as he took it away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Yep.” He put the cap back on and tossed it to me once again. “Come on, just drink with your old man, will ya? Just for tonight.”

  I sighed and looked at him with a straight face while I took in the sight of him. He wasn’t looking very good these days; he appeared more ill as each day passed. I decided it wouldn’t hurt to make this last drinking memory with him. “Okay,” I said, giving in. I turned on my side and stuck my hand out for the flask.

  “That’s the son I raised so well.” He tossed it over and I caught it, taking barely any time before unscrewing the lid and putting it to my lips. I took a swig and then stopped, pulling the flask away to inspect it. “What the hell is this? This isn’t alcohol.”

  “It’s prune juice,” he said with satisfaction. “Keeps me regular.”

  My eyes cut up to his and I saw his face brightened by a cheeky smile. I began to laugh, slowly at first, and then it escalated into something much deeper, something I needed desperately. “Damn, Dad,” I laughed. “I was expecting something much stronger than this.”

  “That stuff is pretty strong. You’ll be surprised how fast that’ll get you on the toilet.”

  My chuckles dwindled as I screwed the cap back on. “Ah, I needed that laugh.”

  “Yeah, I know you did. I could tell when you got home that somethin’ was bothering you.”

  Once again my eyes met the ceiling. “Yeah, I had an interesting day. There was a woman I met—another lawyer—and she’s just been on my mind nonstop.”

  “Hmm,” he said as he patted Kitty on the head. “She got a nice ass?”

  Roxanne’s ass. I had snuck a much appreciated glance at it in her conference room earlier that day. It was the perfect size and was covered smoothly by her tight business skirt that molded perfectly to its shape. I wanted to run my hands over it and dig my fingers into it as I pulled her against me, so she could feel exactly what it made my body do.

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “She has a very nice ass. But she’s also fiery and intelligent. And if that wasn’t enough she’s beautiful and confident on top of it . . .” I laughed quietly. “She has this really annoying habit of tapping her pen on the table when she’s nervous.”

  “How can you tell she’s nervous? I thought you said she was confident?”

  “She is,” I shrugged. “But I can just tell. I made her nervous, most likely because of my reputation.”

  “A reputation to be proud of,” he said, leaning a little more in my direction.

  “Yeah, I am pretty proud of myself. But, I have some things that are missing in my life. I’m starting to feel it.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “But you know what I’m startin’ to feel? That prune juice setting in.” He stood up and began his slow pace to the door. “Good talk, Son,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at me with a smile.

  “Good talk.” I smiled and looked back up at my ceiling, alternating my gaze between the shadow on the wall and the ball in the air as my dad shut the door and Kitty jumped back up on my bed.

  * * *

  I couldn’t believe she actually agreed to go out on a date with me. I was already nervous to begin with, but my anxiety level shot through the roof when I saw her walking toward me with her long hair draped down around her shoulders. God, and I thought she was beautiful when her hair was up. Her wearing it down was a whole other animal. I didn’t want to stare like a complete awestruck idiot, so I grabbed a menu and looked it over as she walked confidently over to my table.

  When I heard her heels click against the floor I decided that it was the right time to look up. But instead of meeting her eyes, my gaze looked her over, taking in the beautiful sight that was before me. She was just such a stunning woman; I couldn’t help it. Trying to redeem myself for ogling, I stood up to greet her like the gentleman I remembered that I was. “Hey.”

  “Uh, hi.”

  I motioned to the seat across from me. “Have a seat.”

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling as she sat down.

  “How was your day?” I asked, starting the conversation.

  “Busy. And yours?”

  “Busy.” I took the menu back into my hands. “You hungry?”

  “For a drink.”

  “Ah,” I smiled. “One of those kind of days, huh?”

  “When you practice family law every day is one of those days.”

  I laughed at how true her words were. “Yeah, I get that.”

  She picked up her menu and scanned it over. “This place is so good. There’s just too much great-tasting stuff to choose from.”

  “When I came here last I had the bison burger. I think I might have that again.”

  “Bison burger?” she said. “I don’t see why people buy that stuff.”

  “And why is that?” I asked, lowering my menu to see her staring at me with the same look she gave me when she disagreed with my opinion, which seemed to happen quite often.

  “It tastes exactly the same as hamburger meat and costs like three dollars more.”

  I loved the challenge that I could see coming in our discussion. “No it doesn’t,” I smiled. “It tastes way better than hamburger.”

  “You wanna bet?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Fine,” she grinned. “I’ll order a regular burger and you order the bison burger. We’ll have them put both in front of you when they bring them out and you have to take a bite of each. I guarantee you that you won’t be able to tell the difference between the two.”

  “I will gladly accept that bet,” I said happily.

  The waitress came over to our table. “Hey Roxy,” she greeted her. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “My usual wine, and I’m also ready to order.”

  “Okay,” she with more enthusiasm than a waitress really needed. “What will you have?”

  “Just a regular ol’ hamburger and fries.”

  She turned her attention to me. “Okay. And what will you be having?”

  “Your most popular beer and a bison burger with fries, please.”

  She finished writing down the order and then took our menus. “Okay. It’ll be right out.”

  “Oh, and Cindy?” Roxanne stopped her. “When you bring the burgers out put them both in front of this over-confident man right here. We have a little wager happening tonight.”

  “Not a problem,” she said with a grin.

  I put my elbows on the table and laced my fingers together in front of my mouth. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you Roxy?” I said, smiling behind my hands.

  She smiled back. “Yep. And only my friends call me Roxy; you can call me Roxanne.”

  I chuckled and relaxed back in my seat. God, she was a fiery one, and sexy as hell, too. “So, what made you choose to practice family law?” I asked, working to get to know her on a more personal level.

  “Hmm. Getting personal now, are we?”

  “I’m just getting better acquainted with my adversary.”

  She paused for a moment and then sighed. “Well, I guess it’s because my parents got a divorce when I was little. I remember going with my mom to meet with her divorce lawyer, which was kind of weird now that I think about it. But her lawyer was a very sweet little old lady who was very kind to me. She really wanted to help my mom and get her through the situation with as little drama as possible. It always stuck with me as I grew up. So I guess the short answer is because I want to help people.”

  “Oh,” I nodded. “That’s cool.”

  Cindy came back to our table with our drinks. “Here you go,” she said as she slid them in front of us.

  “Thanks,” Roxanne told her with a smile before she left. She turned her attention
back to me. “And what about you? What made you want to get into family law?”

  “I like to argue.”

  She laughed into her glass before taking another sip. “Yeah, I can tell.”

  This woman amused me so much. “Is that funny?” I asked with a smile.

  “Very.”

  “Good. I like making you laugh.”

  She smiled at first, but then it gradually faded as she leaned forward and locked eyes with me. “Why am I here right now?”

  I understood why she would ask that. After all, it was odd that I asked her out when we were on the opposite sides of a divorce case. I wanted to tell her it was because she was the most attractive woman I had ever seen, and that I was astounded by her intelligence. But instead I chose to play the dumb card. “I, I don’t know,” I answered. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “No, I mean, why did you ask me here Bradley? Be honest with me, are you just trying to get information from me to use against Steve?”

  I puffed out a laugh of air. “Is that what you think?”

  “Yes,” she said, looking me square in the eyes.

  I shifted in my seat and took a drink of my beer. It never really occurred to me that she would think I was trying to get information from her about our case. But, it made sense. I sat the glass back down on the table and looked at it while I twisted it back and forth on the smooth surface. “No, Roxanne, I’m not here to get information from you about Steve. Although I can see why you would think that.”

  “Then answer my initial question: Why am I here right now?”

  My eyes met with hers once again. “Honestly?”

  A tiny smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “Well you’re incapable of lying, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I chuckled.

  “Then tell me.”

  She asked for it. I leaned forward with my hand still holding onto my beer and pierced her eyes with mine. “You’re here because I find you insanely attractive.”

  I wasn’t sure how she was going to take it. My first thought was that her reaction would be one of disgust, since she kind of thought I wasn’t human, as she had stated in the grocery store when we ran onto each other. But instead of a negative reaction I got a positive one. Her face warmed with a soft red hue as she brought her glass of wine to her lips and took a slow sip. She was at a loss for words.