“Excuse me?” My eyes widened. “The person you hired as a temp gets to replace me on my own case?”
“I’m not replacing you,” Tyler said. “You’ll just be under me now. I’m sure that’ll feel familiar for you.”
“Oh, I see.” Mr. Walsh put on his reading glasses. “You were Mr. Hudson’s understudy during your drama years, right?”
“That’s how it always made it seem.” I rolled my eyes, and he handed each of us a folder.
“Here’s a list that opposing counsel sent over this morning,” Mr. Walsh said. “Can I trust you to give Mr. Hudson a formal tour after I introduce him to the remaining members, Miss Heritage? Seeing that you two have a history, I think that’s a great idea.”
“It’s a fucking terrible idea,” Tyler and I muttered in unison.
“Ah, so now all the stage plays are coming back to your minds.” Mr. Walsh nodded. “Do the two of you know any Shakespeare?”
I didn’t bother answering that. I headed for the door.
“I’ll be waiting on my tour from you later.” Tyler called out to me from behind. “I’m sure that we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“I guarantee that we don’t.”
Chassie
Sophomore Year Incident #1
Cambridge, Massachusetts
“Since when do GQ models take pre-law courses?” My best friend Amy nudges me while we sit at the back of the lecture hall. “I hope the professor doesn’t expect us to pay much attention if he’s part of our mock trial project.”
“You say that about every cute guy in this class, Amy.”
“Well, this guy puts any guy I’ve ever seen to shame.”
I look up from my notes and see a guy in a grey hoodie walking across the front row. He’s completely oblivious to the fact that the entire room is staring at him, that every woman’s jaw is slowly unhinging in awe; every guy’s eyes are narrowed in utter envy.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” The professor claps his hand once the guy takes a seat. “As you know, we’ve had to make some changes to the course regarding some weaklings who dropped out last week. Alas, we’ve had some new students enroll, and today we have our last addition.”
He motions to the sexy guy in the front row.
“This is Tyler Hudson,” he says. “He hails to us from Yale, so I have no doubt that he’ll be able to keep up with us. Feel free to introduce yourself and tell us a few interesting things, Tyler.”
“My name is Tyler Hudson, and as the professor said, I transferred here. I’m looking forward to—” His eyes meet mine, and he suddenly stops talking.
Butterflies flutter in my chest as his lips part, and I’m convinced that he must be looking at someone else.
My hair is in a permanent state of frizz that makes my glasses appear ten times larger, and my ‘waited too late’ braces will be stuck in my mouth until I’m twenty-one.
He blinks a few times before continuing. “I have an appreciation for theater arts, basketball, and—” He pauses to wink at me. “Beautiful things in life.”
“Thank you, Tyler,” the professor says. “You can have a seat now.”
He looks me—definitely me, over one last time before obliging.
“Today’s class will be the shortest we’ll ever have,” the professor says. “Per the syllabus, today is ‘Pick your partner’ day.”
Amy squeezes my knee under the table.
“And since I wasn’t born yesterday and I know that none of you will pick new people like I asked you to—” He pauses. “I’ve taken the liberty of randomly pairing you all with one other person for the group project.”
Ugh. The room fills with groans and annoyed whispers.
“Assignments are up here in the white folders.” He tosses a stack of them onto his desk. “I’ll see you next week with the work for the mock trial, and remember: Whatever grade your partner receives, will be the same one that you receive.”
He laughs and picks up his briefcase, completely unfazed by the second round of groans and whispers.
Amy saunters down the steps to figure out who her partner is, but I remain seated.
Please don’t let me get someone lazy for this assignment, God. Please.
I watch as my classmates pair off, as Amy mouths, “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Ten minutes later, only four people remain in the room: me, Sexy GQ guy, and two people who were snoring in the back row.
“Are you Kelsie?” Sexy GQ guy asks.
“Well, I’m your partner.” He motions for me to walk down the steps, and I take my time so I won’t trip in front of him.
“Tyler Hudson,” he says, extending his hand.
“Kelsie Heritage.” I try not to react as his skin touches mine, as he lets his fingers linger against mine for way longer than necessary.
When he finally pulls it away, he clears his throat. “One of the first things we’re supposed to do is determine who will be lead, so I went ahead and emailed the professor. I determined that it should be me.”
“You did what?”
“I told him that I’ll be lead,” he says. “I figured that you didn’t want it.”
“Did I say that?” I crossed my arms. “Did I even utter a word about this assignment to you?”
“No, but your grades told me all that I needed to know.” He smirks. “I would never willingly partner with someone who is only getting ninety-fives on the test.”
“A ninety-five is a goddamn ‘A’ the last time I checked.”
“It’s not a hundred, though.” He shrugs. “That’s the only thing I make.”
Okay, fuck this guy. “You know what? You can have first chair. It’s a mock-trial, i.e., not fucking real, so feel free to knock yourself out. I have to get to—”
“Argument 101.” He interrupts me. “I have that course as well.”
“Let me guess, you cross referenced our schedules already.”
“Yeah, I used an app,” he says. “Apparently, a sophomore on this campus designed it for herself, and she had to be forced to share it with everyone else.”
“She sounds like a very ambitious person.”
“Maybe a little too ambitious.” He steps forward, closing the gap between us. I can’t help but inhale the sexy, woodsy scent of his cologne. “You and I are currently tied for the number one rank in the class with a perfect GPA.”
“You’re a transfer student from an inferior school,” I look into his eyes. “I wouldn’t worry about being number one in anything right now.”
“I see.” His lips curve into a smile, and I swear I’m tempted to invite him back to my room right now for sex.
He looks that damn good.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone past seventeen who has braces,” he says. “They’re a good fit for the woman I’m about to beat in every class, though. Good job.”
And he ruins it.
“Congrats, Tyler Hudson,” I say, stepping back. “You’ve just made an enemy out of me for the rest of the semester.”
“I can’t say the same. I’m looking forward to seeing you in every class we share.”
“If you think I’m going to talk to you outside of assigned projects, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“I don’t expect you to talk at all.” He looks me up and down. “You don’t ever have to say another word. I only want to appreciate the view.”
“Don’t worry.” I head toward the steps, and I can feel his gaze on my ass. “I’ll be sure to sit far the hell away from you, every chance I get.”
“Does this mean you want me to walk with you to our next class?”
“Fuck no …”
Tyler
Present Day
Manhattan, New York
The fountain pen’s ink dripped onto the desk, far away from the temporary salary agreement with this strange firm.
If I had any sense at all right now, I would go down to Human Resources and tell whoever would listen that I was no longer intereste
d in working here.
That I couldn’t.
It wasn’t because of Mr. Walsh talking in tangents for an entire hour about nothing at all, the endless line of female associates walking by me and winking, or with the last guy I met who said, “You and me? This is war …” before walking away.
If the other firms were any worse than this one, I could possibly handle those off features.
The main problem was “Chassie.”
My restraint wasn’t that strong when it came to her.
It never was, honestly.
She’d always been fucking gorgeous—even in college when she had wild, frizzy hair and braces. But now?
Now, she was a vixen with curves and tempting lips that made me envision her in my bed. Thoughts of her wrapping those nude stilettos around my waist while I pushed up her tightly fitted grey dress were still running through my mind.
Even her sexy sarcasm had gotten better over the years, but I knew she was still clinging on to her ridiculous “enemy” storyline. That it would probably be like pulling teeth to get her to be cordial with me.
To make matters worse, the temporary office Mr. Walsh offered me was as grand as one of the partners’ offices.
Chassie’s office was half my size, and I could sense—even all these years later, she’d find a way to blame me for it.
As I mulled over the pros and cons of working here, the door to the office opened.
Someone cleared a throat, and I looked up.
Kelsie.
Well, Chassie.
“Yes, Miss Heritage?” I couldn’t help glancing at her stilettos. “How may I help you?”
“I’m here to tell you that I won’t be able to give you a tour today.”
“Will you be giving it up to me tomorrow?”
“Why do I feel like that line is a double entendre?”
“Because it is.” I smiled. “Tomorrow?”
Her cheeks flushed red, but she kept her tone firm.
“The tour will come to you via one of the interns today,” she said. “Seeing as though I’m now second chair on a case where I’ve already done most of the work, I’m going to enjoy the rest of my day in my new apartment.”
“I looked over your work a few minutes ago.” I leaned back in my chair. “You haven’t done shit but drawn doodles in the margins. Surely you’ve become a better lawyer than that after all this time.”
“I keep my notes in a personal binder.”
“Can you make some copies of them for me, then?”
“Not since you’re first chair.” She shrugged. Then she looked around my office. “Especially not with a brand-new office that you don’t deserve.”
“I’ve won eighty cases and brought in fifty-million in settlements since we last saw each other,” I said. “What have you done?”
“Lasted in this conversation longer than I ever thought possible.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, and forty case wins and twenty million in settlements, in far less time.”
“So, you’ve done your research on me?”
“I looked up ‘insufferable bastard’ in the dictionary, and your entire biography appeared.”
I smiled. “Look, Kelsie.”
“Chassie.” She crossed her arms. “Kelsie died.”
“Okay, Chassie.” I tapped my fingers against the desk, mentally undressing her. “I’m not even sure if I’m going to work or live in this city yet. I have a temporary apartment and a temporary work contract.”
She raised her eyebrow.
“If you’re committed to being hostile to me, just because we had a few not-so-good-encounters in the past, then I may need to reconsider staying here.”
“Please do,” she said. “And please stop trying to be the bigger person. It doesn’t look good on you.”
“I’d like us to have a conversation about some things when you get a chance,” I said. “I think we need to clear the air.”
“Okay. Let’s start the conversation with you admitting that you purposely sabotaged me because you were jealous that I was doing better than you. You can also admit that you cheated off my paper for our final exam in Pre-Torts I.”
“You cheated off me in Criminal Pathology.”
“I was sneezing.”
“With a pen in your hand?” I noticed her nipples hardening through her dress. “Tell you what, though. Show me the proof that I cheated on that final exam, or it didn’t happen.”
“I have a gut feeling that you’re guilty.”
“Then you already know that lines like that never hold up in court,” I said. “Would you like to have a seat and talk to me like an adult?”
She sucked in a slow breath, looking as if she was on the verge of clearing the air, but she then turned around and walked away.
I waited until I could no longer hear the sound of her heels clicking against the marble floor.
Then I signed the contract with a “Yes” and hand-delivered it to Human Resources.
We have unfinished business …
Tyler
Present Day
Manhattan, New York
* * *
Later that night
“Oh my god … OHHHH GODDDD!”
Loud, guttural moans sounded through my new apartment walls while I was in the middle of eating spaghetti.
They were coming from the woman who lived next door, and she and her guy had been going at it for hours.
When I’d picked up the keys to this place earlier today, the building manager had raved about how “peaceful and quiet” living here would be, but my first night here was already proving that to be a lie.
Sighing, I turned up the television’s volume and opened my case file.
“I’m about to come—oh, Ohhh!” Her moans could still be heard over the highest setting. “Oh, god, please! Oh…”
Silence.
Hopefully, that last orgasm will be enough for tonight.
I picked up my phone and scrolled down to Chassie’s number.
Me: Hey. This is Tyler. New number. Can you send me the notes you supposedly completed? It would save me a lot of time this weekend & help me get better prepared for Monday.
Chassie/Kelsie: Hey. It’s highly inappropriate to text a colleague at this time of night. (We aren’t friends.)
Me: I’m asking you to send the files nicely, Chassie. (I’m aware. Good to know that you’re still a night owl.)
Me: Send me your damn notes.
She never responded.
I started to call her, but the woman started moaning again.
This time, in a British accent.
What the hell?
The woman’s voice showed no signs of stopping anytime soon, so I decided the case files could wait a little while longer.
I put on my headphones and went out for a run around Lower Manhattan to clear my mind.
When I returned, I stepped into the shower and stayed under the streams until I couldn’t take it anymore. Until I’d washed away the final naughty thought about bending Chassie over my desk.
I pulled back my covers and grabbed a file from my nightstand. Now that my neighbor was finally done with her fucking, maybe—just maybe, I could get some reading done.
I put on my reading glasses and turned the page.
“Ohhhh yes!” Her voice sounded ten minutes later. “Ohhhh, please more!”
Jesus Christ.
Chassie
Present Day
Manhattan, New York
Dirty Like This.
Men Like Him.
Sexy Pilot.
The Twisted Affair.
I stared at the stack of new audio manuscripts that weren’t due for another month, trying not to take a sneak peek.
It was three in the morning, and I’d already recorded fifteen sex scenes for other titles.
Desperately, I wanted to focus on my work for the firm, but anytime I picked up my notes, all I could think of was Tyler.
Him stealing the show like always, looking sexy as ever w
hile doing it. Him insinuating that he was better than me.
For whatever reason, that still cut deep, and karma hadn’t served him an appropriate dose of karma at all.
Just as I was about to force myself to look over some interview questions—so I could one-up him before he did it to me on Monday, my phone pinged with a new email.
Subject: New Erotic Romance. Are You Available to Narrate?
I immediately opened it and accepted. Then I slipped into my soundproof room and cued up another sex scene.
My “real work” could wait another day.
Tyler
Present Day
Manhattan, New York
On Saturday morning, I awoke with a headache and my neighbor’s breathy, “Yes Daddyyyy!” running through my brain.
I assumed it was kink-play; my mind refused to believe it was anything else.
Since my neighbor was bound to be quite the nympho during my short-term stay here, I decided that I should play nice. I planned to send her a plant or some flowers and kindly ask her to keep things down at night so that I could work.
Getting out of the bed, I walked over to my dining room and pulled out Chassie’s assigned case.
Her not working on something as easy as this didn’t make any sense.
From what I remembered in college, a case of a person being wronged by a big corporation was what kept her up at all hours of the night.
She’d even outwork me when we came across mock cases like this.
Confused, I worked in silence for five hours—filling in easy things she’d missed, writing notes in places where they should be.
My Enemy Next Door: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 3