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“They enjoy laughing at your misfortune?”
He nodded and watched as she set her box down then retrieved the broken glasses for him. Handing the once square tortoiseshell frames to him, her delicate finger brushed his palm, and an immediate spark between them had him fighting the urge to hold onto her hand.
“I’m sorry I stepped on them.”
“It’s my fault. I think I have a backup pair in my office.”
She nodded. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on looking through Mrs. Tovar’s extensive magazine collection,” she said, eyeing the contents of the box he’d set on the table.
He turned to face the table. His heavy box was filled to the brim with magazines, and hers was filled with feathers in every shade.
“What in the world?” he asked.
“Maybe an almost fifty-year-old woman has a hobby of reading younger women’s magazines while making feather boas?” Hailey proposed.
“Or maybe this case is going to be more interesting than we thought,” Finn said.
Chapter Two
Hailey
By early evening,Finn sat at the other end of the conference table, wearing his thick, black military-issued glasses. He looked boyish and rugged at the same time if that was possible. She almost felt bad for breaking the other ones. Almost. It wasn’t really her fault she’d stomped on them.
After an entire day together, she finally had a chance to study him while his eyes bounced back and forth between two documents. His tawny-brown hair was askew from the numerous times he’d run his hands threw it out of frustration. And his brow was furrowed with concentration, but nothing could mar his gorgeous face.
Finn Maguire was the kind of handsome that caused people to take a second look. Women immediately batted their eyes when Finn walked into a room, and men stood up straighter. Not that better posture could compete with the lines of his square jaw, full firm lips, and green flirtatious eyes. In the rare opportunities she had to look at him without getting caught, he always looked like he was in on a joke no one else knew. Mischief played in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth, until today when she gave him a hard time about messing up in court and as each new box of junk or unlabeled paperwork arrived.
“Do you need a second set of eyes on those?” she asked.
He gave no response as he continued to swing his head back and forth from one document to the other.
“Finn,” she said louder.
“What, babe?” he said without glancing up.
She could tell the moment he realized what he’d said, and his shoulders slumped. He set the documents down and pulled off the glasses.
“Sorry, I think my brain is officially fried.”
Trying not to laugh, she looked over the latest inventory document sent over from the defense team.
“So you don’t call all fellow lawyers babe?”
“No, I don’t actually call anyone babe. I don’t know why I said that. Too much time around my brothers and their wives probably.”
She looked up to see his grimace and enjoyed the view of his muscular frame as he stood to stretch. He’d lost his suit blazer after court, and his business shirt was expertly tailored to highlight his muscular chest and broad shoulders.
“It’s seven o’clock,” he said, looking at his simple black watch.
His shirt sleeves had been rolled up hours ago to reveal tan skin and light golden hair along his forearms that flexed without him even trying. It was clear his body was ripped under his expensive suits by the way everything fit him so well. He had the kind of strength that indicated a dedication to fitness.
“It’ll take us until morning to get through all of this, which is obviously why they sent so much crap,” she said, standing across from him along the wide conference table.
With his hands on his waist, he scanned the room before his eyes landed on her again.
“You think there’s some golden ticket buried in all this, and that’s why they included so much nonsense? They hope we won’t find it in time for tomorrow?” he asked.
“Bingo.”
