“That would be telling, and where would be the fun in that?”His tongue traced the red flesh of his lips.His hand snuck higher, drawing figure eights on Baz’s thigh.
This was by far the weirdest way anyone had ever hit on Baz.He had no idea what to make of it—he needed to snap out of it.
This,them, could not happen.Aya would kill him if she found out he jeopardized the case by hooking up with the opposition, not to mention Ian—
Ian.The name froze Baz inside out.Had he put Sami up to this?Was this a trap?
God, that should have been his first thought.He blamed the gin and Sami’s ridiculously beautiful eyes for slowing his brain.
What was the plan here?Was Sami supposed to seduce Baz into giving up their strategy?Make him more amenable for a worse settlement?If so, they really were underestimating him.
He clasped Sami’s wrist to stop the movement.Theyou should leavewas at the tip of this tongue, but then, Sami turned his hand in the grasp and glided his palm along Baz’s.His hooded eyes and lascivious gaze held Baz’s common sense hostage.The brown of his iris was shaped like a star, with specks of green filling the gaps between the six prongs.How the hell was that even possible?
“Yeah.We’ll have fun together,” Sami muttered.
Baz couldn’t find the words to tell him he was wrong.
“Sami,” a female voice said behind them.Only when Sami looked away could Baz do too.A Brown woman stood by the door in a lavender-colored, loose suit.Long, silky black hair framed the young face.A golden septum piercing sparkled under the lights.“You coming?”
“I gotta go.”Sami hopped off the stool.He grabbed Baz’s drink and finished it in one go.A single drop escaped the corner of his mouth, trailing a glistening path down his jaw, over his exposed throat… Baz swallowed.
“Knew you were a gin man.”Sami pumped his eyebrows and slammed the empty glass onto the counter.“Thanks for the delightful company.I’d invite you to come along, but you’d kill the vibe, so enjoy being miserable, I guess.”His fingers trailed along Baz’s shoulder as he walked past.
A breathless chuckle escaped Baz.Unbelievable.That was the only word he had to describe Sami and this whole fucking day.With the last bit of willpower, he delivered a heartfelt “Fuck you” from the bottom of his soul.
Sami smirked over his shoulder.“Keep wishing for it.See what happens.”His voice was a low rumble that sent a hot flash through Baz’s body.Only the delayed effect of alcohol, of course.
Sami fell into the woman’s arms.Her lips moved; whatever she said made him laugh.With his arm around her waist, they walked out.
So she was, what, his girlfriend?That checked out.Anyone who didn’t have any inhibitions about representing evil corporations against cancer patients wouldn’t hesitate to cheat either.
No thanks.Hell would freeze over before Baz fell for Sami-fucking-Adam.
Chapter seven
Baz’sthighswereonfire.
He forced his trembling muscles to press against the stacked weights until his legs straightened.This was his favorite moment, the peak, the undeniable proof of his strength invigorating his body.It was why he got up at six every day before work.With a body exhausted from being pushed to its limits, it was much easier to think.Not thatthinkinghad done him much good the last two days.
Grunting, he bent his knees to lower the weight down to its starting position.He climbed off the machine and wiped his face with the towel lying next to his water bottle.
Snippets of his fight with Eevee pushed themselves to the forefront of his mind.They were invasive bed bugs, biting him and keeping him up at night.Much like the pest that was Sami-fucking-Adam who had managed to attach himself to the memories with his stupid smirk and intoxicating boldness.
Baz still felt the ghost of his touch on his thigh, threatening to divert Baz’s focus from things of actual importance: the case, getting the kids justice, making partner.Thatwas all he could allow himself to care about.
His taut muscles carried him to his office in his new Armani suit, single-breasted and woven out of grayish-blue virgin wool.His crisp white shirt was freshly pressed; his brown dress shoes were well on their way to being worn in and would hopefully stop giving him blisters any day now.Look the part, become the part—today, Baz needed to look like a kickass lawyer.
His priority was getting the settlement on the road, one that would suit all forty-two plaintiffs.The sooner that was done, the quicker he could forget all about those hazel eyes.
He found Aya in the kitchenette on the partners’ floor.The coffee machine hummed as it filled her favorite half-blue-half-purple mug with that heavenly treat.
“Can you get Tammy to call Ian and arrange a settlement meeting?Preferably soon.”
“Good morning to you too, Baz.”
“Will you?”
Aya glanced at him over her shoulder.Subtle golden makeup sparkled around her dark eyes, contrasting her black hijab.“Do you want her to pretend she works for you, so Ian thinks you have a secretary?”
