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Me:I’m pretty sure I did just that tonight when I refused to come home with you. Lose my number, and if you need me, call my paralegal, Caroline.
Should I block his number? This wishy-washy way of mine is driving me crazy. I’m not a wishy-washy wallflower, so why am I still looking at my phone?
Unknown:The girl has jokes. Who would have known? Sexy, good in bed, and fucking funny. By the way, I don’t chase women, they fall at my feet. You’re special, please know this.
Me:Now you’re the funny one. I can’t imagine women falling at your feet.
It’s a lie, why wouldn’t women throw themselves at his beautiful body?
I turn off my phone before he can lure me any further. It doesn’t help my mindand the one thing I can’t turn off,like my phone, is my mind. Luciano De Santos isn’t going anywhere, this much I know. And a memory from my childhood pushes to the forefront of my mind. It’s motivated me for years, and the conversation floods my senses, bringing me back to reality,my reality.
When I was a young girl, one of my father’s parishioners, Mrs. Webster, asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her without a second thought I was going to be a lawyer. I must have been no more than six years old.
I’ll never forget our interaction. She had let out a sweet chuckle and patted my head.“Oh, honey, you’re way too sweet to be a lawyer. They lie, cheat, and do whatever they want in order to get ahead in life.”
It’s funny after almost twenty-four years, I never forgot the look of pity on her face. At the age of six, I understood I could be whatever I wanted. More so, I could be any type of lawyer I wanted to be. I didn’t have to lie, cheat, and steal to become one. In law school, I was witness to too much politics in the field, but my love for the study of law and justice never wavered.
I sit on my bed, remembering the past and the pact I’d made myself so many years ago. I’d not lose myself to the job. I’d become the type of lawyer that would prove Mrs. Webster wrong.
It may be one reason I’m a little high-strung at times, not allowing lines to become murky. And as I think of Luca, the way he wants me, I remember the promise I made to myself. Becoming involved with a client will muddy those waters. It’s why I must stay away from Luca De Santos.
CHAPTERFOUR
“Mr. De Santos, I’m sorry to disturb you.”
I tip my head from the computer, staring at my secretary. I’d left a message with Anisten this morning, after a week of radio silence.
But, I don’t have time to think about her. Behind Shaelyn is the large body of a man I know too well.
“Mr. Murphy is here.”
In Shaelyn’s three-inch heels, her voice is strained. She knows I hate disturbances. However, as this man is one of the few on my anytime, anywhere list, I wave her off. “Send him in,” I order, “and, Shaelyn?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“Please add Ms. Atkins to the list. She gets through no matter what I’m doing, just like Murph, my sister, and my parents.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll add her right away.” She leaves, but the door stays open, and in strolls Finnegan Murphy. He has been my best friend since the second grade. I was a runt back then, and every other kid wanted to pick on me. Unlike me, Murph has always been a giant motherfucker and took me under his wing as my protection, and since that day has been my fucking ride-or-die.
“Tell me there’s a reason for your mid-afternoon visit. I swear you need a hobby, Murph. Being simply a trust fund baby isn’t a job title, you know, right?” I tease, busting his balls, and he makes his way to my bar, giving me the middle finger.
“Nah, who needs day-to-day burdens like you? I’m rather busy, you know. I just came from our favorite place. I mean, Dungeon Elite has always been the kink club for us, Luc, but now, man— this new member elite level rocks, dude.”
I look up from my computer. “Rocks? You have an Ivy League education and the best you can say isyeah, dude, this rocks?”
He pulls for items on my charcuterie board that Shaelyn makes me every day since I seldom eat lunch, but for some reason it makes her feel better knowing I have food.
“Maybe I should have lunch here since you don’t. By the way, Shaelyn, what’s her deal?” Murph has a type—dark hair, petite, and an olive complexion. I know it too well.
I continue to respond to Harry concerning some items he and Heaven had discussed today, and since she’s not replied to my texts, I’ll find a way to get her into my office. However, in all of my thoughts about Anisten, I can’t help but hear Murph’s question.
“You stay away from my secretary.” It’s a statement. It’s not meant to come out as a threat but my mood is affected by Anisten. One could say I’m lashing out from my own frustration, but I don’t let up. “I don’t need more people disappearing on me. You tend to make a habit of that, you know.”
My harsh words hit him hard, and he stops mid-drink. It’s a low blow. I know it. I had gotten over his bro-code foul years ago, and it’s the only time Murph and I have ever gone to physical blows. But in it all, he’s still my best friend.
“Fuck, asshole. What’s crawled up your ass? I don’t know how many times I’ve apologized for what happened with Isabel.”
He slams down his gin, his drink of choice, and tosses his plate of olives and cheeses on the bar.
