“No, we’re not settling for that amount. Twenty-five is our bottom line. You have until close of business tomorrow to decide and let me remind you… I not only represent Mrs. Sanderson, but I also represent each of her three children, and if you don’t pay the twenty-five, then I’ll be filing Mrs. Sanderson’s suit only. And after I’ve dragged your company through the shit-storm that is our legal system for the next three years, I’ll file the first child’s suit... and I’ll drag your ass through the same shit-storm for the three years after that. Then the next child’s, and then the next. I’ll have you tied up in litigation long after you’re ready to retire from the practice of law, and get this… I couldn’t give a fuck if I win even one of those cases. The mere fact I’ll drown you in legal expenses makes me go all tingly inside. So do yourself a favor, pay the twenty-five and save yourself the heartburn.”
Just like that, my opposing counsel crumbles and I hear with a heavy sigh, “Fine. Twenty-five it is.”
“Very good. I expect the check tomorrow by noon.”
I hang up the phone and type a quick note into the client’s file, summarizing the conversation. I need to call my client to tell him to the good news, but I want to get Mac off my plate first.
When I finish my note and turn away from my computer toward her, she says, “So… sounds like you just settled a case for $25,000. Congrats.”
“Try twenty-five million,” I say blandly.
Mac’s beautifully fuckable lips purse into an “O,” and her eyes go round with shock. “Excuse me?”
“Twenty-five million.”
Mac regains her cool though, and asks, “May I inquire as to what type of case?”
Standing from my desk, I walk over to the mini-fridge built into one of my bookcases. I pull out a bottle of water, holding one up for Mac, but she shakes her head to decline.
“Train accident,” I tell her as I walk back to my desk and sit down. “Mrs. Sanderson and her kids were on a train. They were all killed when a truck driver who was drunk off his ass got his rig stuck on the tracks. Train couldn’t stop. Kids and mom died a fiery death.”
“Oh,” she says, her eyes swimming in sympathy. “That’s terrible. But hey… you should be happy. What a settlement!”
“It was worth more,” I tell her flatly, still a little burned up that we settled for that amount.
“Then why didn’t you settle for more? Seems like you had the upper hand.”
“Mrs. Sanderson’s husband doesn’t want to go to court. At all. He says he just doesn’t have it in him to relive the pain of what happened. So he gave me the authority to take the one million they were offering today and told me to make the case go away.”
“So you were bluffing just then?”
“That I was,” I confirm.
Before Mac can ask any other questions about the case, I decide to lay it on the line. “I’m not happy about you working here.”
Those green eyes of hers go a shade paler and look to be tinged with frost. The coolness of her voice matches her stare. “I gathered that by your icy welcome this morning. I get that you’re mad about it. I guess I just can’t figure out why?”
“You can’t figure out why I’m mad?” I ask incredulously, and then lower my voice to a growl. “How about because I had my tongue between your legs two days ago, or the fact we both almost overdosed on orgasms, or maybe it’s because I got a fucking hard-on the minute you walked in that conference room door? Take your pick… there are a variety of reasons why I’m mad.”
Yeah… didn’t mean to admit my hard-on to her, but fuck… it pissed me off the way my body reacted to her so violently. I expect Mac to be cowed by my words, maybe to tremble or shed a tear.
Instead, she says, “I’m not sure why this is a problem? We spent a night together. It’s over. We forget about it, and we go on.”
It takes every bit of strength I possess not to leap on her right then and there, push her to the ground, pull her skirt up, rip her panties off, and fuck that silly nonsense right out of her head. There’s no way I could forget that night, and I’m pissed that she sure as hell acts like she can.
So I retaliate. “I don’t need this shit in my business. I don’t need you walking around all doe-eyed at me, hoping for something more.”
Now, did I think Mac would do something like that? Hell no.
Did I maybe subconsciously hope she’d do that? I plead the Fifth.
“What?” she practically shrieks at me. “What makes you think I’ll be doing that?”
“I’m just anticipating it. It’s a woman thing,” I tell her with a shrug of my shoulders. I really don’t think that, but her calm assuredness in the face of something that is really freaking me out is pissing me off even more. It’s time to set her back on her heels a little.
Mac, though, isn’t going to wait around for that. She shoots out of her chair, leaning over my desk and slapping her palms on the wood surface. “Listen, you jackass,” she sneers at me. “I can conduct myself in a businesslike manner, and yeah… you got me to scream a few times the other night. But I can guarantee you—you’re not the only man in New York that can accomplish that feat. I’m certainly not in any danger of walking around all… What did you call it? ‘Doe-eyed?’ I’m not even sure what the fuck that is.”
Holy Christ, that’s fucking hot. She stands there, eyes looking all wild and her chest heaving with the exertion of her anger, and I want to bend her over my desk and fuck her hard.
“One last thing,” she says, and I blink my eyes to focus on her rather than the porn I was inventing in my head. “I’ll do my job, and I’ll do it well. But if you so much as try to fire me or treat me any differently because of our little encounter, I’ll sue you for discrimination faster than you can blink. Are we clear?”
She is absolutely sexy as hell in all of her raging glory, but I don’t like to be threatened so that causes me to lock my jaw and glare at her. Still, I manage to give her what she wants. “Crystal clear.”
Mac doesn’t say another word, just spins on her heel and marches out of the room.
Leaving me with my eyes pinned to her ass and another hard-on between my legs.
Chapter 6
I love working on Saturday. The office is usually completely empty of people, the silence hangs thick in the air. I can work with abandon, not worrying about getting interrupted a million times a day. Usually, I can condense almost an entire week of work in a good, ten-hour Saturday if I really concentrate.
Except, I can’t concentrate for shit. A certain woman by the name of Mac Dawson is haunting my thoughts. Has been all week, actually, but today, it’s even worse because I know she’s down in her office working as well on this beautiful Saturday.
I’m happy at least that the week got progressively better, and Mac and I made amends of sorts. I actually extended the olive branch a few days after I called her “doe-eyed” and she threatened to sue me.
I went to her office and, after she invited me in, said, “Look… I want to apologize for what I said the other day. I was more than a little unsettled when you walked in, and it had nothing to do with that bullshit about you being ‘doe-eyed’. In fact, I’m not even sure what the hell that means myself.”
She just stared at me impassively, and I think she was making me work for my forgiveness. Still, I made sure she really understood my position. “It’s important to me that my business stay business, and my personal remain personal. Understand?”
“Totally,” she agreed.
“I mean… the other night, we were explosive,” I said.
“To the moon,” she added on.
“And that has no business in this office.”
“No place at all.”
“No matter how hot that experience was.”
“It’s not even an issue.”
“So… we’re in agreement?”
“I have no clue,” she said with a smile, and I had to fight the urge not to return it. “But if what you’re trying to
say is that what we had was amazing, but that it is over and done with, then I’m in full agreement.”
“Then we can put that in the past and never think about it again?” I asked to make sure we were on the same page.
“It’s already gone from my mind,” she said with a confident nod of her head.
So apologies were made and we agreed not to talk or think about it ever again.
But give me a fucking break. We might not be talking about it but I know every night this week I’ve gone home and jerked off, thinking about that one night I had with her. I have to wonder if she was doing the same or if she has seriously put it out of her mind.
I’ve thought a lot about this fascination I have with her, and at first, I thought it all boiled down to sex. Amazing, phenomenal sex. But the more I reflect on my interactions with Mac this week, the more I realize that I’m attracted to a whole lot more than just her body and the way she can make me come. She intrigues me on so many other levels.
During a meeting this week with Lorraine and Mac, I saw firsthand how Lorraine tried to bully Mac and how she tries to hold herself out as Mac’s boss, which isn’t how things work around here. Lorraine is in a different division, and I’m Mac’s immediate supervisor. It was exhausting watching Lorraine try to jockey for some type of position or hold over her, and I was relieved when I asked her to go ahead and leave so I could talk to Mac about the Jackson case she had brought with her to the firm.
When the door closed behind Lorraine, I asked her, “Is she always like that?”
“Yeah,” she said with an almost embarrassed admission.
“Well, if you have any problems with her, just let me know.”
“Not going to happen,” she said bluntly.
My eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“I can handle Lorraine on my own. I won’t be running to you if I have an issue.”
I said nothing more than, “Suit yourself,” but that right there garnered more respect from me than anything she had done up to that point, and with each passing day, she was becoming more and more intriguing to my senses.
Mac brought me up to speed on her Jackson case. It’s going to be a tough fight to get justice for her client, who suffered a traumatic brain injury. The other side claims Mr. Jackson was speeding when their client, who was driving a tractor-trailer, turned left in front of him causing a head on collision. They also claim Mr. Jackson didn’t have his headlights on. Both of these issues are tough, but they can be fought with the right expert witnesses. I told Mac that she would need a biomechanical engineer and an accident reconstructionist to get the job done.
Just before our meeting wrapped up on the Jackson case, I told her, “You know this case is a major uphill battle.”
“Yeah… I sort of figured that out when seven other law firms turned it down,” she said glumly.
“Then why did you take it?”
Mac chewed on her bottom lip, considering her answer for a moment. Then her eyes filled with resolve and she said, “I just really liked Miranda and Larry Jackson. I felt sorry for them, and they remind me of my parents. Strong, hardworking… they didn’t deserve this, and their life has been ruined because of it. I know those are stupid reasons to take a case…” she had trailed off, seemingly a bit embarrassed by her reasoning.
So, probably my downfall ultimately will be due to the fact that Mac has a heart of gold, which only amps up the attraction. I know I may come off as an asshole more than ninety-five percent of the time, but the truth is, I have a big heart too. I just don’t let women in it. No, all of my heart is spent on just a few things… my family, which includes my amazing mom and dad who live in eastern Pennsylvania, my seven-year-old son, Gabe, and my law practice. And I’m not talking about love for the business of law. I’m talking about my love for the passion of law. I chose to devote my career to helping people achieve justice. I’ve represented people from all walks of life that have had horrific things happen to them. They were then spit upon by an unfair system with no one to take up their fight. That’s where I come in, and the only way you can effectively do that is to really have love for your clients. For their pain, their misery, and their despair.
I take it all on. I’ve cried in private when the story is too tragic. I’ve spent countless of hours and had many sleepless nights, making sure I’m doing my best to protect them. When I win, I share in their triumph. When I lose, I keenly feel their anguish, because it becomes my anguish.
Mac is essentially the same. She took an improbable case because her client didn’t deserve what happened to him. Didn’t matter she would have a huge fight… she wasn’t about to let the wrong go unanswered.
And that right there probably fated me to not be able to let her go from my mind.
Because she’s me.
I recognize in her the same qualities that fuel my passion for the law, and that right there has her earning even more of my respect. That makes her all the more sexy and desirable.
Yeah… I’m not going to be able to let her go from my mind, but I’m still resolved that I won’t have her again physically. I just can’t go there since she’s my employee. Not to mention, I’m still firmly against the whole concept of sleeping with just one woman. It sort of defeats the whole “angry, loner, I’ve-been-stomped-on-by-love” vibe I have going.
Not going to have her physically again.
I’m resolved.
But surely, there’s no harm in walking down to her office and seeing what she’s up to on this fine Saturday. I mean… she may have a question about the Jackson case or something.
I walk down to her office and step inside her open door. She’s immersed in some document she’s got in her hand, but she must sense I’m there because she turns her head slightly and when she sees me, she jerks in her chair.
Putting her hand on her chest, she laughs, “Geez… you about gave me a heart attack.”
I smile at her in apology and walk all the way in, taking a seat opposite her desk. “Sorry. I was walking by and saw you… thought I’d say hello.”
She grins goofily and waves her hand at me across the desk. “Hello.”
Okay, no helping the fucking smile that comes to my face because… fuck, she’s funny. “So… how are you settling in?”
“Good. Everyone’s been really nice and helpful.” She holds up a document and shakes it in the air. “I decided to figure out what the hell a biomechanical engineer is… a little light Saturday reading.”
“I have some good articles for you to read. I’ll email them over to you.”
“Great,” she says with a smile.
“How long have you been here?”
She looks down at her watch before bringing her gaze back to mine. “Oh… only a little over seven hours. How about you?”
“A few hours. I have depositions next week in Chicago in a complex litigation case I have to get ready for.”
Mac lets out a huge, pent-up breath and sinks back into her chair.
“What’s with the long-suffering sigh?” I ask with my eyebrow cocked and my head tilted.
“Nothing,” she says, her voice sort of dejected while she messes around with some papers on her desk, refusing to meet my eyes. “I just can’t wait for the day when I can be a real litigator and handle depositions, go to court hearings, and make arguments to a jury.”
“That takes time,” I reassure her. “But… how about you sit in on these depositions with me next week, watch how they’re handled, and I’ll have you handle some smaller ones for me after that?”
Fuck, why I offered that I have no clue. It would be absolutely idiotic of me to bring Mac to out-of-state depositions with me. I need to rescind that offer immediately.
Her head snaps up, and she looks at me eagerly. “Really? I mean, you don’t even know what type of lawyer I am.”
Okay, so the eager look in her eyes is pulling on my heartstrings, and I swear, it has nothing to do with the fact that ninety percent of the time, just being nea
r her is pulling on my dick.
“True enough.” I agree with her assessment because I know diddly about her. “But there’s only one way to find out.”
Mac leans forward in her chair, and I practically groan because her full breasts sway against the tight t-shirt she’s wearing. “Thank you, Mr. Connover… I mean, Matt. Or Mr. Connover if that works for you. But just… thank you!”
Well, hell… the “Mr. Connover” just threw a bucket of cold water on my cock and made me cranky. “It’s just Matt, okay? God knows I know you well enough for us to be on a first-name basis.”
Mac’s eyes go wide since I’m blatantly mentioning our intimate time together—even after I specifically told her that we needed to forget it.
I stand from the chair and head to the door, changing the subject quickly. “Have you hired an accident reconstructionist on the speed issue in the Jackson case?”
“No. I wasn’t sure where to start with that.”
Glancing at my watch, I decide I can give her a few more minutes. I walk back and stand near her desk. “I have to get back to work but show me the accident report really quick, and I’ll direct you where to go.”
Mac scrambles up from her chair and rounds her desk. She needs to scoot in between her desk and me to get to the bookcase that houses several binders. She murmurs ‘excuse me’ as she tries to slide by me, but her butt grazes up against my crotch. It’s hardly a touch at all… almost as light as a breeze, but I fucking feel it straight through to my toes, causing me to hiss under my breath.
Mac quickly steps away and spins around to look at me with fearful eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
The apology is way too late because lust courses through my bloodstream, causing my cock to swell and my anger to rise that I react so quickly to just the tiniest of touches. My eyes close tight, and my hands curl into fists. My heart is racing and although I know she didn’t mean to do it, it enraged me all the same.
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