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“Autumn Romano, this is Zane Montoya,” Jude says, introducing us. “Zane, this is Autumn Romano.”
“Miss Romano,” Zane grits out.
“Mr. Montoya.” I give him a blinding smile, just to piss him off.
“He’s one of the lawyers I intended to introduce you to, Autumn,” Jude says. “He just joined the firm, but he’s one of the best. He just moved here from New York.”
“Oh, really?” I flick my gaze up and down his body, one brow arched. “Was New York too much for you to handle, Mr. Montoya?”
“My siblings are here,” he says, his teeth grinding together.
Oh, he’s big mad.
“Autumn’s being sued by her father’s former business partner,” Jude explains.
“For what?”
“Ten million dollars,” I say sweetly.
Zane blanches. “You need a lawyer.”
“I mean, since a hitman isn’t an option, it appears so,” I mutter. “He really didn’t like being called a short-dick child predator.”
“I see.” Zane’s mouth compresses into a hard line.
“Someone caught the… altercation on camera and uploaded it to social media,” Jude explains, stepping to the left as a woman squeezes past. “It’s all over the internet.”
“You’re being sued by Jimmy Gatlin.”
So he’s heard about the video then. Lovely. Is there anyone left in the United States who hasn’t heard about the video? Actually, I don’t think I want to know the answer to that question. It might give me hives.
“That’s the one,” I confirm, scowling at nothing in particular.
Zane stares at me for a long moment, something dark and malevolent swirling through his eyes before he schools his expression. “Jimmy Gatlin is a prick,” he growls. “Good luck with your search for a lawyer, Miss Romano.”
“He’s hired,” I blurt, turning to Jude.
Jude blinks, clearly shocked.
“He’s hired,” I repeat. “I want him as my lawyer.”
“Why?” Zane demands, turning those captivating eyes on me.
Except… I’m not sure I know how to answer his question. For just a minute, there was something in his eyes that I need in this fight. A spark that says he’ll fight like hell to keep Jimmy Gatlin from getting a penny from me, not because he likes me or even because he cares if what I said was true, but because he lives to win.
But I need that. I needhim. And if I get to mess up his neat little world along the way? Well, that’s just a bonus. I find myself eager to cause problems for this man.
“Why not?” I ask instead of telling him that, batting my lashes at him. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to represent little ole me, Mr. Montoya.”
“Fucking hell,” he swears, those dark eyes narrowed on me as if he knows I’m trying to needle him into agreeing. “Conference room. Now, Autumn.”
My soul quivers at the command in his voice. And for the first time in my life, I want to obey. What the heck? I don’tobeyanyone. Except this man, apparently. Because I follow him to the conference room without a single word of protest.
Maybe he isn’t the only one in trouble here.
Crap.
CHAPTERTWO
