AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Stop staring, Hannah.” He doesn’t look up from thedocument in front of him. The annoyed tone in his voice leaves me wanting to chuck Jackson’s stapler at his head.
“Stop clicking your pen,Liam.”
He pauses his clicking as he looks up at me before looking back down at the task in front of him.
Click.
SEVEN
LIAM
I swear this case is going to be the death of me. It feels like with every victory comes three more setbacks.
When my dad said he wanted me to start taking on more responsibility at the firm, I knew it would mean taking on bigger and more powerful clients, but all I can seem to think about with this case is how royally screwed I am if I mess up.
Do I need to stay with Hannah while she goes through these notes? Probably not, but I refuse to allow something to get missed, because at the end of the day it falls on my head, not hers.
That’s not even to say that I think Hannah will mess it up; she’s moderately competent. She graduated from the University of Tennessee with honors. Acting major or not, that is still a massive undertaking.
“Why do you want to work here anyway? It’s not exactly Broadway.” I toss one of my squishy stress balls up in the air. I’ve been wondering since she started at Baker & Park, and while I didn’t anticipate myself actually asking, now I’mcurious. “You’re not qualified,” I say, a coldness in my voice that the topic doesn’t warrant.
Hannah’s jaw tenses, a telltale giveaway that I’m getting under her skin. It’s also something I’ve been seeing a lot over the past week.
“If you must know…” she labors the words out as she grits her teeth, “it was your dad’s idea. It’s not long-term, but it’s necessary.”
“What? Can’t find work?” I chuckle, intending it as a joke to poke at her, but the expression glaring at me isn’t just that of disdain, but pain. I struck a chord.
She says nothing in response, much to my dismay. The game only works when she responds.
Whatever.
The wall clock ticks as we approach 7:00 PM, my stomach reminding me that I’ve once again worked through dinner.
Hannah brushes a piece of her golden-blonde hair behind her ear and I watch the way her hand traces down her neck as she gazes at her laptop. The expanse of skin that trails from her ear to her collarbone is far more distracting than it should be. She holds her hand there, causing my eyes to linger.
I clear my throat, pulling Hannah’s attention from the task at hand.
Shit.
“How are you doing over there?” I ask, not really concerned about it, but flustered when she catches me ogling.
Well, notogling.
Observing.
Hannah’s brows shoot up at my question, causing my stomach to squeeze like a vise.
“Oh—um,” she clears her throat, clearly unsure about mysudden onset of brain malfunction, “I’m actually having trouble finding the document they’re referring to.”
Wait, what?!
No, this can’t be happening. This is supposed to just be last-minute note compiling to prepare for my meeting with the client tomorrow. We can’t be missing documents.
This could lose me the client. They’re already feeling skittish after firing their old representation.
I jump out of my chair, causing it to spin behind me, and dart over to look at what has Hannah perplexed.
“Show me.”
