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“How far away is it?”
“Three miles, give or take.” He took several bites of his noodle dish that looked like it had enough peppers to light his mouth on fire.
“You ran a mile and a half with that to-go bag full to the brim, and nothing spilled or got wet?”
“Three miles one-way, it’s six roundtrip,” he said, with a cocky side grin that dazzled her.
He pushed the purple box across the table toward her.
“My reward? I didn’t even tell you what you really wanted to know.”
“You will, eventually.” He didn’t laugh or even dare her to contradict him with his steely green eyes. He just glanced at her before continuing to eat.
The feeling of dread her past life always conjured started to creep in, but she pushed it down, focusing on the intricate box. There were faint sketches of flowers on the top folded into the shape of petals. She pulled one, and the box opened to reveal four mini cakes, each intricately iced and decorated.
“We can share these if you tell me why you think you deserve the junior partner slot,” she said.
“I’m not sure I deserve it, but it’s in my nature to compete. I know I don’t want to be anyone’s lackey anymore, and I’d rather run my own caseload. I know from my previous career that perseverance usually wins the day, but you have that in spades,” Finn said.
“So they pit their two bulldogs against each other for a little sport to see who will win the dogfight.”
“You might be the toughest woman I know, but you deserve better than a dogfight.” He pointed his chopsticks at her. “Is this how all firms choose their junior partners?”
“In private practice or criminal law, it could be even worse depending on the partners holding the golden ticket. A friend from law school said her firm basically required an oath that each junior partner wouldn’t quit or have children within the first five years of making partner. She had to sign an NDA, and there was an unwritten requirement for all female junior partners. I’ll let you figure that piece out.”
“But life is full of choices. Why would she willingly put herself through that?”
“Student loans, her boyfriend was at another firm, and they couldn’t afford to live in the city if she quit.”
“So we play their game or go to the public defender’s office and work double the hours for more than half the pay.”
She laughed until she realized he wasn’t kidding.
“That might be an option for you, Maguire, but I’m not going to spend my life scrimping to save for my piece of the American dream on a public servant’s salary. Not to mention the student loans I’m still paying off.”
He shrugged. “I may not have student loans, but I paid my way with service in the military and I’m more turned off by the hours than the pay.” He eyed her after polishing off his dinner. “You ready to fight over those cakes?”
“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. I’m more of a fruit person.” She pushed the box back over to him.
“After years of eating MREs, I learned to appreciate the one piece of chocolate after every meal. Now I’m like a toddler and need a sweetie after I eat my meal.”
Unable to resist, she smiled at his honesty.
He took out a white encrusted square with green leaves made out of icing and one ripe red strawberry on top. She watched, riveted. His lips surrounded the cake, and he devoured it all with a moan. Only the strawberry remained, and he stood to lean across the table to offer it to her.
“I don’t like fruit on my cake,” he said, daring her to let him feed her.
She gulped before opening her mouth to him, it was like he cast a spell on her with his hotness. Everything seemed to slow down, and she watched as his eyes darkened to the color of a stormy sea before he gently set the strawberry on her tongue. It didn’t matter that he was careful enough not to touch her. They’d just crossed an imaginary line between professional and personal, a line she’d spent years etching out and struggling to maintain with every hour around him.
Instead of overanalyzing why she’d let that happen, she concentrated on chewing the perfect burst of strawberry in her mouth.
He didn’t meet her eyes. Had he felt the odd fissure of connection between them?
Clapping his hands, he broke the spell and started cleaning up his side of the table.
“You finish while I crack this code, and then I say we each tackle fifteen boxes. Whoever finds the most damning information gets to take point in court tomorrow,” Finn said.
“That sounds fair.”
