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Yet, he maintains a searching gaze, indicating he's awaiting a more elaborate response.
But how can I oblige? Even just mentioning Maria seems to send a jolt through my stomach. Not exactly butterflies, but not indifference either.
Amidst contemplating what to prepare for Maria's dinner tonight—an issue I probably should have sorted out days ago—my thoughts also venture to the possibilities that might unfold after dinner if she'll let me.
“Last week, I told the kids what lawyers do, and the kids had plenty of questions. This week, Maria had them draw their future aspirations, which they then shared. She's planning to showcase their artwork; it's all very cute,” I explain, feeling a hint of relaxation as I recall the children's animated expressions while they colored.
The drawings depicted a range of professions: a ballerina, a firefighter, a doctor, a construction worker, and even a lawyer. I made an effort to interact with as many kids as possible, providing encouragement for their ambitions.
“That's nice to hear. She's always had a talent for connecting with kids.” Her father beams, swiftly adding, “And I'm pleased to hear you're doing well too.”
“Thank you, Tom. I appreciate it,” I reply as I observe him rise from his seat.
“And just to reiterate,” he begins, his expression turning serious, “you've heeded my advice?”
It's clear he's alluding to his demand to keep my hands off his daughter, a directive I've disregarded. But admitting that is out of the question.
“Hands off,” I affirm briskly, hoping that brevity might make it harder for him to discern my falsehood.
“Well, that's reassuring. I'll let you get back to work then. You know where to find me,” Tom says as he heads toward the door.
“Take care,” I call out just before the door closes.
Once he's gone, I allow my head to slump onto my desk. Why does he have to be so affable? While I've encountered some difficult colleagues in my legal career, Tom isn't one of them.
My wet dreams involving his only daughter feel like a betrayal.
But I’m not stopping now.
CHAPTER12
MARIA
Tyler’s gray Lexus turns into his building’s private parking lot right before I do. Amused that he’s obviously running behind, I follow him and park in the space next to his.
He looks sheepish as he climbs out of his car, opening one of the rear doors to produce a few bags of groceries.
By the time he’s shutting the door, I’m already coming around to where he stands. The florescent glow of the parking garage lights is highlighting his frazzled state of being.
His tie hangs around his neck with a few of his buttons undone. His brown locks are mussed up, which I imagine were styled better this morning.
“I’m sorry, I’m running a bit behind,” he says as he spots me. He shifts the grocery bags into one hand while he grabs mine with the other.
The gesture is effortless, as if it’s the obvious thing to do, and I try to hide my giddy face in my shoulder.
The elevator ride to Tyler’s apartment is silent. I’m leaning into his side while he’s pressing endless kisses to the crown of my head. He definitely turned out to not be a douche bag.
His apartment looks exactly like a place a lawyer’s salary can afford. It’s all navy blues, sleek blacks, grays, and whites. Large windows make up the sitting area that has a flat screen TV that’s larger than my desk at school. The floors are dark wood except in the kitchen, where they turn into a pretty black and white tile. The brand-new, stainless-steel appliances, spotless granite counter tops, and beautiful navy-blue cabinets give it a homey, yet modern feel.
“This is nice,” I tell him, giving a slight spin in the room as he sets the groceries down on the counter.
He lets out an exasperated huff as he unpacks the food. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I am going to go upstairs and change out of this suit. I will be right back, but help yourself to anything,” he says, halfway out the kitchen door by the time he’s finished talking.
Cooking this meal for me might be overwhelming. I know how taxing the job of a lawyer is, and I don’t want to cause added stress on him.
He comes back in a pair of crisp blue jeans that hug his strong thighs and show a deliciously toned ass. An old law school T-shirt reveals powerful biceps I have been wondering about since the day I saw him in my father’s office for the first time.
