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Something passed between us. It was a slight shift in the air. The look on his face was one of approval, and it made my heart ease a little bit. If we could not be friends, that was fair and fine, but I needed him to have faith in me as my boss.
“Okay.” He went back to eating his tacos.
“Okay.”
I wondered just how long this ceasefire between him and I would last. One thing I have realized about Daniel Sinclair is that he always managed to come with turbulent waters.
Chapter twelve
Court Date
Selena
Aftermylittledinnerdate with Daniel, we returned to pretending that neither of us existed. Or at least he did. I saw him once during the weekend when I was walking out for my morning run, and he didn’t even bother greeting me properly. He nodded and walked into the lobby like I was a mere stranger.
I guess that was the dynamic that we were going with.
I still had not reached Lucas, and my patience was thin. But on the bright side, I did not receive any more texts fromhimor whomever was texting.
When I walked into the office, I was engulfed in a bear hug from Brandon, who spun me around as if I weighed next to nothing. Compared to his six-foot frame, I likely weighed a quarter of what he did.
“Okay, okay, you big ogre, you can put me down now.” He set me down on my feet, but he kept hold of my shoulders. “I was gone for one day.”
“Yeah, but you left me with Lisa. I barely survived.”
“I can hear you, you idiot.” Lisa threw her stress ball at Brandon’s head, narrowly missing it by an inch. “I meant to miss.”
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Sure, you did. You can’t aim for shit, never get a gun, or you will miss the—ow!” This time, she managed to hit him with her eraser and smiled.
“You were saying?”
Brandon grumbled some inaudible words under his breath. “You see? Never leave me with her again. I was abused all day.”
I laughed at his antics; my gaze then turned to Lisa, looking at me like I was the last thing she wanted to encounter—the feeling was mutual.
“You said you weren’t sick.”
“Sudden shift in health.” I shrugged; I didn’t need to explain myself to her. “I need to prepare for my meeting with Daniel.”
“Mr. Sinclair.” My steps faltered at her voice.
“What?” I turned to look at her again.
“You called him Daniel. He is not your friend or your peer. You are a paralegal; you aren’t on the same level as him, so you will call him Mr. Sinclair.” There was ice minced in with her words. Her gaze narrowed at me in accusation, like I had committed the greatest felony known to man.
“Of course, just a slip of the tongue.”
Her glare intensified. “Mhmm, I’m sure that’s what it was. Need I remind you of the rules? You need to act professional at all times.”
“Of course,” I bit out. “Won’t happen again.” She was not my superior, but I knew better than to try and start a war with her. I had dealt with women like Lisa before, and it was best to avoid conflict because they could go nuclear at any given moment.
I walked to my desk and settled in. I saw a file on my keyboard. It probably had to do with the LeVrous case. When I went to open it, I stopped short when I saw the small sticky note that had rather neat handwriting that read:
Alberto told me to give these to you.
The sticky note rested on what looked to be coupons for Alberto’s taco truck. There were six of them, and each was valued at a hundred dollars. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who these were from. His handwriting was oddly neat for a man.
These coupons would likely last me a year or two. I had no idea why Alberto would gift me so much, but I was thankful nonetheless.
