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There wasn’t a card. The courier had nothing to offer but a smile and a wave of his hand when I tried to give him twenty dollars for his trouble.
He told me that Mr. Colt had taken care of it.
It seemed too good to be true, and now I know why.
Dylan Colt, looking like sex in a suit, is waiting for me on the sidewalk outside of my office. I thought he was gorgeous when he was eighteen. That lanky, messy-haired quarterback had nothing on this square-jawed, tall, breathtakingly handsome man.
“Eden.” My name flies off his perfect lips as I approach him. “I see you got your watch back.”
His eyes graze my arms.
I took off my blazer when I was in the elevator since it’s almost ninety degrees outside. My sleeveless blouse isn’t sheer, but it’s thin enough that I know he can see the lace of my white bra underneath it.
It hardly matters at this point.
The man sucked on my nipples. He knows exactly what my breasts look like.
“We’re having a drink together.”
I raise a brow at that declaration. “No, we’re not.”
“We are.” He flashes me one of his dimpled smiles.
My core clenches in need.
Traitor. My body is a traitor.
“I’m prepared to offer your client a deal if she’ll sign off on the terms of the settlement that Kurt proposed in mediation,” I say, clinging tightly to the hope that his drink invitation is business related.
“I’m going to ignore everything you just said because we both know that my client has suffered immeasurably because your client can’t keep his dick in his pants.”
“Your client’s vagina isn’t as innocent as you think it is,” I blurt back.
That draws the attention of a gray-haired couple passing us on the sidewalk.
Dylan glances at them. “We’re lawyers. Ignore us.”
The woman gifts him with a bright smile. “It’s hard to ignore you.”
With a scowl on his face, her husband grabs her hand, tugging her forward.
“Have a drink with me, Eden.” Dylan gestures down the street. “We need to talk, and not about the Alcesters.”
He’s right. We do need to talk.
“I have dinner plans at seven, so one quick drink.”
His brows draw together in curiosity. I don’t need to tell him that my dinner plans consist of take-out and three hours of binge-watching my favorite show.
Noelle is hanging out at her parents’ apartment tonight since Kurt needs to be at the hospital at six a.m. tomorrow to be prepped for the surgery.
His gaze falls to his watch. “I can work with that. There’s a place a block over. We can walk there.”
I fall in step beside him, being careful not to let my hand brush against his.
I wouldn’t have slept with him if I had known that he would be my archenemy in court. I can’t make the mistake of touching him again.
***
