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I knew I must sound ridiculously frustrated by something so simple as a lost file, but to be honest ever since my night with her, I can’t seem to keep my shit together. The cause of my misery sent me packing after what I thought was the best night of my life. I thought I’d picked up the same vibes from her. Maybe I was wrong. Fuck, she had me craving a real date, candles, champagne—the whole nine yards—as soon as I learned her name, of course.
God, she must consider me a monster. Who else would take a stranger’s virginity? Inside the courtroom I was considered ruthless, but me as a man? I mean when I saw something I wanted I didn’t stop until it was in my hands, but with her? She had control from start to finish.
It was an offshoot I was even at that nightclub but I met the clients where they dictated, especially when they are footing the bill to the tune of three million dollars, provided I win the case. There was no doubt I’d win, and I said as much to my clients’ face. Thinking our meeting was over, I stood to leave, but then I saw her. Sitting all alone and never one to pass up an opportunity, I approached her. At first her cheeks blushed red by the minute but by the time I asked her to dance with me, everything about her turned hot to the touch.
I was determined to have at least one dance, maybe a sweet kiss before heading home. A prize for all the hours I’d clocked in. Never did I think it would end with a girl like her wrapped around my body, giving me her virginity.
I let the com button go and rocked back in my chair, hands scrubbing over my face.
For two weeks now I’ve been a walking bomb going off at the slightest thing. Scaring away three assistants and making another cry made me feel like a real asshole. Much more of my own crankiness and I’d have to kick my own ass.
“Mr. Sloan, I’m busy with Mrs. Morre through the next five hours of client meetings. But I did field a few calls for you. Three of which are from Mrs. Robin wanting to know if you would like to meet for coffee before trial begins, if you know what I mean, and the other two were potential assistants.”
My thoughts were cut into by my partner’s assistant, Trish when her strained voice sounded over the intercom.
“You can thank me with an iced latte for lunch.”
Trish. She didn’t beat around bushes and that was what I like about her most.
“How would you like me to respond to Mrs. Robin?”
I rolled my eyes. Sleeping with a client was never a good idea in my line of work. Not unless you were actually looking to ruin your law firm’s reputation. I wasn’t. No matter the cup size or dollar amount backing up their checkbooks. It took ten long grueling years to build this place up from the ground. Not the high-rise we currently rent, but Morre and Sloan. We handled most of the high-end corporate contracts for billion-dollar companies and Hollywood studios. Our name was among giants and there was not a damn thing I’ll do to tarnish what we’ve built.
I swung my door open and walked across the foyer and approached Trish's desk. She was parked outside her employer’s office door like a gatekeeper and believe me, she played an excellent linebacker when needed.
Trish had three slips of paper in hand waiting and ready when I came to a stop beside her desk. “You have a couple interviews for this afternoon.”
“You’re a goddess among mortals, Trish. Are you sure you don’t want to come over to my side? I pay better.”
Something about my expression must have screamed desperate because Trish chuckled and added, “I took the liberty of putting out a few silent feelers with some friends since you go through assistants like starlets do boy toys in this town—”
I cut her off. “Trish, you’re a sweetheart to think of me, but I don’t have time to interview people.” I braced my hands on the ends of her desk and turned up the thousand-watt smile that normally had ladies of all ages swooning. “What will it take to pull you away from Morre? C’mon, I’ll double your salary. Put your grandkids through college. Give you a fully paid trip to Vegas. You name it! What do you say?”
Trish, a woman who had gracefully aged in ways most women hoped for when they met their mid-sixties, pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up her nose and shot me a smile that said not a chance but with a cherry on top.
“Please,” I begged just as my partner stepped out of her office.
“At it again. Figures. Step back from Trish—she’s mine, Sloan.”
Morre, a woman my age with a bigger no-nonsense attitude about her than even me, pursed her lips in my direction and swooshed a stack of files in the air. “Back, beast. How many times are you going to fire your hired help anyway?”
“I didn’t fire, they left.”
“And that’s any better?”
“Not really, just stating facts.”
I frowned and sighed heavily. “Until I can find someone who can do their job without all the hand holding.”
Morre’s eyes lit up. “Problem is you. You’ve been a bear lately. All work and no play… you know what they say.”
For what felt like from the moment the ink dried on my diploma, work was the only thing that sat at the top of my priority list. A short list at that with only one item that made the cut.
Casual flings happened when I got the urge to have a woman’s soft, warm body wrapped around me, but the last time that happened was nothing more than a foggy memory.
The woman I couldn't get out of my mind made me want to change that. The more I thought about it, my whole life seemed meaningless.
How the fuck was that possible?
