Page 33 of Dirty Judge

“Take today to read through this guidebook—” She pointed to the book in my hands. “Judge Ashton will answer any questions you have when he finishes the morning arraignments, and then tomorrow I’ll start walking you through everything. Do you have any questions before I show the other clerks to their places?”

“Can I see where they’re going, in case they might want to trade places with me?” I asked. “I mean, book smarts aren’t everything and they might be better off here.”

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” She walked away without another word.

I plopped down in the chair, surprised at how plush it was.

Grabbing the guidebook, I flipped open the first page and made a mental note to get the hell out of here before lunch.

1. Do not undermine my authority.

1a. Follow my rules to the letter.

1b. Never question my rulings or thoughts on the law.

I was only sixty pages into Judge Ashton’s employee guidebook and I was itching to take out a red pen for edits.

This man was dedicating twenty pages to explain every office rule when he could’ve condensed this into a simple list.

I flipped the page and finally made it to a new rule.

1c. Never give me YOUR thoughts on the law. (Unless I ask for them…and I won’t.)

Ugh.

As I clicked my highlighter, the sound of heels clacking against the floor made me look up.

For some strange reason, everyone in the office was running to the exit door.

Papers and files fluttered in their wake, and they didn’t look back.

“Is something wrong?” I asked. “Is this a fire drill?”

None of them looked back to answer.

Within seconds, they were gone.

I was all alone.

“Okay, then…” I shut the book. “Maybe it’s lunchtime.”

I slung my purse over my shoulder and stood to my feet right as the back door swung open.

I waited for another employee to run past me, but it was Him.

Him in robe, coming directly from court.

I tried to look away, to get the hell out like everyone else, but my feet were refusing to move.

Stopping at his desk, he slowly took off his robe, revealing a white button-down shirt and dark gray slacks.

“Mara?” He slid a pair of reading glasses off his face. “What time am I meeting my new…”

His voice trailed off as he looked over at me.

Run, Olivia. Just run…

My feet still refused to get the memo, and I was helplessly rooted to my spot. Somehow, this man had become even sexier since the last time I’d seen him, and I didn’t appreciate the effect he was having on me.