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Not that she’d ever do such a thing. She’d steered well clear of the girly gossip about the enigmatic partner. Cameron Lord had attained almost cult status among the secretaries and other support staff. His nickname among the girls was Lord Hunk, and despite the conservative suits and reserved manner, his appeal couldn’t be denied.
Young compared to the other partners, handsome, elegant and aloof, hisbackstory wasfodder for speculation among giggling girls in the breakroom. He wore no wedding ring, but there was always an elegant woman on his arm for corporate events, though, apparently, never the same one twice.
She’d once overheard the girls in the secretary pool comparing him to Richard Gere’s character in the old movie,Pretty Woman. “I’d be his Julia Roberts any day of the week,” she’d heard Brenda confide to her desk mate.
Jess had never entertained such dreams. She had zero interest in getting involved with someone at the office, no matter how sexy and mysterious he might be. Several of the other associates and even one of the managing partners had asked her out over the two years and change she’d been with the firm, and she’d always politely but firmly declined. That was one quagmire she had no intention of stepping into.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but admire Mr. Lord. He had a reputation as a whiz kid who’d climbed quickly up the ranks. Around forty, he took good care of himself, his body lean, his skin and eyes clear. He dressed impeccably in perfectly-tailored suits and elegant Italian loafers. Hewasnice to look at, there was no denying. He had dark, wavy hair and piercing gray eyes. A lot of women she knew would have killed for his thick fringe of dark lashes. His face was angular, his nose strong. Yet his mouth was surprisingly sensual, the lips full and soft. Though she’d never have admitted it aloud, she’d had the occasional fantasy of kissing those lips.
While she’d always found him very attractive—who didn’t—she’d never seriously considered him as potential dating material. Not only because he was a senior partner and possibly already in a relationship, but because, she’d assumed, he would be as vanilla as an ice cream cone.
To discover that hewasin the scene—at least to the extent that he’d shown up at a BDSM club wearing the uniform, gear bag in tow—had thrown her for a complete loop. It had forced her to rethink everything she’d thought she knew about the man, and blown away her protective shield against his considerable physical charms in the process. Her mind naturally segued to an insane fantasy of beinghissubmissive. Of giving herself, heart, body and soul, to Cameron Lord…
In bed, her hand had slipped between her legs as she imagined kneeling naked in front of him—not the staid, self-contained partner in his bespoke suits and elegant silk ties, but the Master in black leather, a cane and a coil of rope in his hand.
She must have passed out finally somewhere near dawn. She’d slept through her alarm, missed the express subway train and been forced to take the local that stopped at every station.
Now, setting her heavy briefcase on the desk of her small, windowless office, she removed her sneakers and replaced them with work pumps. More folders had been added to her inbox since she’d left the evening before. She had a pile of contracts to review. She needed to put the bizarre events of the night before out of her mind and focus on the day ahead.
But first, coffee.
She passed by the hallway that contained the partners’ elegant row of offices as she headed to the breakroom. Was Mr. Lord already in his office? Had he put two and two together last night? Did he plan to do anything about it?
Once back at her desk, coffee mug by her keyboard, she booted up her computer, more or less ready to face the day. Her edgy, nervous mood eventually calmed as she immersed herself in her work. She was just finishing the draft of a letter to opposing counsel outlining the firm’s final position when Brenda stuck her head around the door. Brenda, a forty-something redhead with a voluptuous figure and a sharp mind, was Jess’s favorite secretary in the pool shared by the associates.
“One of the top dogs wants to see you,” Brenda said with a smirk.
It took Jess a moment to switch gears and process what Brenda had just said. Then her stomach swooped unpleasantly. Was this it? Was she about to get fired?
No. That was crazy. She hadn’t broken any laws, and she certainly hadn’t been at Spankees in any professional capacity. And anyway, he’d been there, too. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.
In spite of herself, her nipples tightened as she recalled his slow, sexy gaze moving over her naked body. Perhaps that had been a good thing. Maybe he’d been too busy staring at her body to notice her face.
It suddenly occurred to Jess that Brenda hadn’t said which “top dog.” There were nine partners, and she answered to all of them. Maybe she was panicking for nothing. She looked up, hoping her face didn’t betray her nerves.
“Who exactly is asking for me?” she asked, pleased her voice came out calm and well-modulated.
“Lord Hunk,” Brenda breathed, reverence in her tone.
Jess’s pulse began to race. Keeping her expression under control, she managed to speak with a calm she didn’t feel. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“No,” Brenda said. “I didn’t actually speak to him. Marion told me. All she said was that he wanted to see you in his office at your earliest convenience.”
“Okay. Thanks, Brenda.”
Brenda continued to hover at the door, her face a study in excitement and curiosity. “Do you have any idea what he wants?”
Jess shrugged. “Not a clue.”
Brenda made a small clucking noise of encouragement. “I’m sure it’s something good. You’re lucky. All that work you’ve been doing on the Lansing deal must be paying off. This might be your big break—a chance to be noticed.”
Or fired.
Jess did her best to keep her face blank. She had no intention of giving Brenda fodder for the mid-morning coffee break. Flashing a nervous grin, she managed, “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
She grabbed her suit jacket from the coat rack in the corner of the office. She put it on over her blouse and smoothed down her skirt. Pulling open a side drawer, she removed the small makeup bag she kept there. She opened the compact to inspect her face. She looked tired. And nervous. She applied a little fresh lipstick and smiled to make sure there was nothing in her teeth.
She briefly considered taking a quick gulp of the unopened single malt scotch a client had given her, and which she kept in her bottom desk drawer.Don’t be ridiculous, she silently chided herself.
Whatever happened, happened. She wasn’t going to stress out over it in advance. She’d graduated in the top ten in her law class at NYU. She was a second-year associate, hopefully on a path to partner at a prestigious Manhattan law firm. She’d worked her ass off for the firm. She’d handled herself well in court the few times she’d been allowed to present. What she did on her own time was nobody’s business.
Grabbing the elegant, monogrammed leather portfolio her parents had given her at graduation and her lucky Montblanc pen, she left her tiny office. She focused on her breathing as she moved down the thickly carpeted corridor to Mr. Lord’s corner office.
Marion glanced up from her computer screen as Jess approached. “You can go right in. He’s expecting you.”
