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Even if I’m at least fifty percent sure hedidjust hear her say she needed dick.
Fumi stands, clearing her throat and taking a breath before she turns to smile brightly and professionally at our boss.
“Good morning, Mr. Black.”
“Ms. Yamaguchi,” he growls. She darts past him and out the door.
When we’re alone, Gabriel closes my office door and then leans against it.
“How’s the Chesterman case going?”
It’s funny. Up till last week, even given how cool I am with Taylor and Alistair, Gabriel Black has always thrown me off a little. I mean he throwseveryoneoff to varying degrees, ranging from “a little” to “pee-your-pants”, which is kind of his evil superpower. It’s also what makes him a viciously ruthless and successful lawyer.
But now, in the three days since I last saw him, I’ve come face to face with a more ferocious darkness.
A more lethal villain.
A more consuming force of nature.
And I’m realizing that it’s a little tough to be intimidated by anyone, even Gabriel Black, after you’ve fucked the God of Hell.
Four times.
“Great, actually,” I beam. “I spoke to the family’s personal counsel last week, and I think they’ll be amenable to a settlement. Nobody on their side wants to see the inside of a courtroom.”
He nods slowly. “Good. Keep me up to date, but feel free to proceed as you see fit.”
“Of course, Mr. Black. Thank you.”
I smile. He doesn’t. He just stands there, his dark brow furrowed.
“Is there something else I could help you with?”
“There is.” He clears his throat. “Ms. Crown and I just got out of a meeting with Gavan Tsarenko.”
I nod. Gabriel’s eyes narrow slightly.
“He’d like to speak to you.”
A shiver runs down my spine. I have no illusions that this has to do with anything other than my father, Gavan’s top captain.
“Oh? When did he want to set up a meet—”
“Right now.”
My pulse grows weak.
“Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all.”
He nods, getting ready to go. “Good. Oh, and you’re still fine for tonight?”
I resist the urge to grimace. Tonight, I’m meeting a potential new Crown and Black client for a pitch dinner. On the one hand, I’m honored that the name partners have the faith in me to do this solo.
On the other hand, Howard Kenmore, the potential client, specificallyrequestedme. Howard is fifty-three, disgustingly wealthy, and has a very public history of dating petite blondes less than half his age, the last two of which wore thick-rimmed glasses.
Obviously, this begs the somewhat troubling question of whether I’m going out tonight to pitch Howard on Crown and Black, or to audition to be his next girlfriend.
