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“What?” Magda frowned at me. “Do you really hate women that much?”
“I don’t hate women!” I insisted. “I love women, but that woman? She clearly is only after her husband’s money. I don’t think the children matter one way or another to her.
“How can you say that? Of course, her children matter to her. Didn’t you see her crying when she left?”
I snorted. “Some people can cry at will. Dollars to donuts Sandra Martinez is that type of person.”
Magda looked downrightoffendedand she scoffed at me as she stormed toward the car, looking at me angrily when she pulled at the door handle and it wouldn’t open.
I lifted my hand with the key fob in it, clicking the doors open, and she wrenched open the door and slipped inside, slamming the door shut.
I winced. My car was expensive and it hurt me when my baby was treated so badly.
God, she was so young and so fucking naïve. How could she believe that Sandra Martinez wasn’t a snake?
She’d learn, but I wasn’t going to be the one to teach her.
MAGDA
Roarke Brentwood was such a pig!The way he talked about Sandra Martinez. She was a mother fighting for her children, fighting for what wasrightfully hers, and Roarke just dismissed her as a gold digger. He didn’t know anything about women, and at his age, it was appalling.
I was surprised when he told me he’d been married multiple times, and I still thought he seemed more like one of those guys who didn’t do commitment. Turned out, he was a serial monogamist, but I would bet that all of his ex-wives had a different story about the divorces than he did.
I couldn’t even stand being in the car with him, but luckily for me, he just cranked up his music – classic rock – and sang along while he drove us back to the office. I just stared out the window, glad that he wasn’t trying to talk to me, or worse,charmme.
One thing I could admit. Roarke had a certain level of charm. He dealt well with all the clients, male and female alike, but female clients seemed to love him. They clearly didn’t know this side of him I now did. And I couldn’t believe that at some point I’d almost let him kiss me.
That must have been a temporary lack of judgment. In law terms, temporary insanity. That was all.
I got out of the car and slammed the door, smiling when Roarke winced as if I was hitting him. Good. His two-seater sports car could take a beating, for all I cared.
I went into the office, hoping that I wouldn’t have to see him for the rest of the day.
When I opened my office door, a voice sounded behind me and I jumped, startled. It wasn’t Roarke’s low baritone, at least.
“Have a bad time in court?” Mark asked, and I smiled, relieved.
He followed me into my office as I put down my things and I turned to him. “It went as I expected, but it still wasn’t a good outcome for our client,” I admitted.
Mark hummed in sympathy. “Sometimes it goes like that.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, sitting down at my desk. “I’ve got plenty of paperwork to file, so I won’t be having lunch until later,” I said apologetically.
Mark smiled pleasantly. “No worries. I know how busy you are. Just checking in and being friendly.”
He gave me a little wave as he left my office, heading back toward his, and I smiled to myself. Mark was nice. So much nicer than Roarke. I didn’t have time for dating or relationships, but if I did, he would be amuchbetter choice.
Halfway through beginning the paperwork to file a couple of motions for the other case, I was working on, I came across the prenuptial agreement that the Martinezes had drawn up before they got married. I read through it and it was pretty standard, but then I read a paragraph that surprised me.
Oh, damnit. I needed to talk to Roarke.
I sighed heavily and got up from my desk, taking the file with me and going across the hall to Roarke’s office. He had a huge office with a beautiful view, but it was so messy in there you could barely appreciate how nice it was. His blinds were drawn, which was unusual, but I knocked anyway.
“Come in!” he called.
I opened the door and stopped in my tracks. I dropped the file in my hand and began to pick it up, blushing.
Roarke Brentwood was standing over me. I could see his shadow falling over me because he had the back blinds open. He was also shirtless.
