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L.L. stepped out of the elevator on the twenty-second floor, draining her to-go cup as she crossed the threshold into Kensington & Marks, where the hustle and bustle hadn’t yet started. Only a handful of employees tended to get a jump on the day before ten o’clock rolled around.
Given her diverse, international clientele, whom she mostly worked with remotely via email and Skype, L.L. didn’
t necessarily have to be in the office bright and early at seven-forty-nine. But she felt most creative first thing in the morning, when her mind was fresh and the day was new.
“Hey there, sunshine,” Jace Kensington greeted her with a chaste peck on the cheek.
He was a good-looking guy with shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. His habit was to leave his tie hanging on the back of his door with his jacket when there weren’t clients roaming about. His hair wasn’t quite as dark as Tague’s and better behaved, though L.L. secretly liked the purposely mussed style Tague wore. Nor was Jace as tall as the hunky lawyer she’d just met, and certainly nowhere near as formidable.
A tingle of excitement cascaded down her spine at the mental image she conjured of her breath-stealing blind date. Tague Mason had swept her right off her booted feet with his skyscraping height, solid build and tailored clothing. Not to mention his chiseled facial features—a slightly squared, strong jawline, prominent cheekbones and the complementary slash of a nose that had the tiniest imperfection at the bridge, which lent a rugged tinge to the otherwise aristocratic quality.
As for his smile... Lord, it’d taken some work to coax a grin out of him, but when she finally had...
Whoa. It wasn’t only her spine he made tingle—despite that grin being a purely cocky one. He made her pulse race and her insides sizzle.
Yet L.L. was more than capable of getting her feet securely beneath her after such a titillating encounter.
She’d met plenty of attractive men since coming to New York. She’d never dated any of them more than once, and would certainly never get so wrapped up in one that it threatened to derail the speeding train that was her career.
Nor would she be roped into a romantic entanglement that would leave her devastated. Thoroughly wrecked.
Been there. Done that.
Which made it all the more helpful—safe, even—that she wasn’t the perfectly coiffed, looking-to-land-a-well-to-do-husband sort. She and Tague Mason were certainly on different, polar-opposite trajectories. All they had in common, really, was the knack for witty banter and the thirst for good champagne.
Simple enough for L.L.
And she breathed a little easier.
“So how was the weekend?” Jace asked, stealing her from her thoughts.
“Same ole, same ole,” she said, pushing aside the last vestiges of desire incited by the illustrious attorney she’d just met. “One crazy-wicked deadline and then long-distance-phone-chat-sister-drama for about, oh, four hours. Dinner at Fenore on Saturday. Have you been yet? I had to book seven weeks in advance, even after dropping our dear friend Meg’s name a half-dozen times.”
“I hate when new restaurants open in this city and we have to resort to groveling to get in during the first year.”
“Even having a connection to a culinary bigwig doesn’t mean jack these days.”
“Neither does a lofty bribe.”
“That’s because the hostesses are all saving their spare table or two in hopes George and Amal show up,” L.L. commented. “With Cindy Crawford and her husband in tow.”
“When my own namesake lands on deaf ears on this island…” Jace grunted. “That sucks royally. The Kensingtons helped put Madison Ave on the map, back in the day.”
“What is the world coming to?” she said with a tsk.
“No shit.”
They crossed the open reception area with its gorgeous deep teal, textured walls that had waist-high river-rock trim to complement the gleaming, pale hardwood floor. There was a gourmet coffee and juice station with a few high-top tables and stools scattered about, along with comfy sofas in the wifi lounge and a state-of-the-art gaming room. The cubicles were all contemporary and cozy, the entire atmosphere crafted to inspire creativity.
They entered L.L.’s office and she dropped her empty cup into the receptacle next to her desk. She asked, “How do you feel about courtside tickets for the Knicks game on Friday night? I have two freebies from a client that I need to unload.”
“Aha.” Jace greedily rubbed his hands together. “I was hoping you’d invite me.”
“I was planning on it, but something came up and so you can have both of them.”
“L.L., you’re the biggest Knicks fan along the Eastern Seaboard and you’re handing over courtside tickets?” He eyed her with obvious concern. “What gives?”
“Nothing,” she assured him. “Don’t worry about me. As it turns out, I have a date.”
