In Your Corner
Page 100
“Hmmm. Sounds like someone I know with a newly fuzzy head, but his housing issue is that he wants us to live together since I spend all my time at his place anyway.”
Claire and Penny share a glance. Then Penny whips open the makeup kit and places it on Claire’s desk. “Just a tiny bit under the eyes. You’re looking a little tired.”
“That’s because Jake and Max had it out in the practice ring yesterday and Jake won. He was…” I hesitate and my cheeks burn. “Very pleased.”
Ray snorts a laugh. Penny gives me a touch-up. Claire fluffs my hair. Ray muses about why people make a big production out of simple things. I wonder what the hell is going on.
Finally, I grab a notepad and pen and walk down the corridor to the newly appointed meeting room. Along the way, I check out the two rooms that will become offices for the new associates I hired: Jill, to help with the paying clients, and a friend from the community legal aid clinic to manage the pro bono side of the firm. We are busy at Amanda Westwood, LLP. And I hope it stays that way.
The door to the meeting room, a normal-height slab of beige wood, stands ajar. Taking a moment to compose myself, I step into the room, ready to meet my newest client.
Light floods across the thick, cream carpet through floor-to-ceiling windows. Dust motes dance in the sunbeams. A small, polished oak table with four comfy, cream leather chairs takes up the center space. I inhale the scents of leather and furniture polish and a whiff of something else, sharp and clean like an ocean breeze.
Familiar.
Across the room, the client is pouring himself a glass of water from the tray on the credenza. From the back, he takes my breath away. A tight, white T-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders and follows the frame of his body down to a narrow waist and a deliciously sexy pair of worn, ripped jeans that hug his perfect, tight ass. No more suits and ties for my carpenter and licensed amateur fighter who has dreams of going pro. He is back where he wants to be, doing what he loves to do, and looking damn fine as he does it.
I close the door. As the latch clicks, he turns to face me.
My heart squeezes as it always does when I see him. I place my legal pad on the table and close the distance between us. “What a nice surprise,” I whisper, brushing my lips over his. “You look beyond hot in those jeans. Did you come to sex me up?”
“Mmmm.” He nibbles my ear. “I need an attorney.”
“Mmmm. You have one.” I run my tongue over the seam of his lips until he opens for me, and then I slip inside to taste him. Two seconds later, he hauls me against his body, hand fisting my hair, as he devours my mouth.
“Down, girl,” he mumbles against my lips, although now he’s the one in charge. “Seriously, I need an attorney.”
“Why didn’t you just talk to me about it last night?” I stroke my hand over the Team Redemption logo on his shirt, and then lower, toward his belt.
Jake grasps my hand and pulls it away. “This is why. You’re too distracting.”
“Um…who came home all pumped from his big fight, stripped off my clothes, and carried me into the shower with him?”
“Only after you decided to check if I was wearing your present.” He backs away and perches on the edge of the table.
With a soft harrumph of disappointment, I fold my arms. “What’s the problem?”
He pulls a file folder from his briefcase and holds it out to me. “I’ve got this property, a heritage property. It’s empty and I need someone to live in it, or the neighbors might deem it abandoned and call for it to be torn down.”
My head falls back and I groan. “Not another one. You and your vacant heritage homes. Well, I’ve helped you out once already at an incredible sacrifice to myself. Really, I should be working from a sterile, characterless prefab office overlooking the Bay.”
Jake’s eyes sparkle and he motions to the folder. “Just check it out.”
“Fine.” I open the file. It contains a key and a bundle of real estate documents.
I give Jake a questioning look and he taps the top paper. “Read.”
So I read. And a sob wells up in my throat.
“This company…?” I tap the page.
“Belongs to me.”
“You bought my grandmother’s house?” My words are barely a whisper.
“Yeah, baby, I did.”
I grab a tissue and dab at my eyes. “But we weren’t even together when the sale went through.”
“You’re mine, baby. Always were. I needed some time to clear my head, but I never stopped loving you.”
“I can’t tell you—”
He cuts me off and pulls a shopping bag off the chair. “Bought you another present.”
“I don’t need another present. This is the best present I ever got.”
“This one’s better.” He shoves the plastic bag toward me.
Smiling through my tears, I reach inside and pull out a pair of fight gloves. My smile becomes a grin. “Does this mean I passed Pulverize or Perish?”
“Try them on,” he urges. “The fit is critical. Once you find the perfect fit, you’ll never want anything else.”
I slide my hand into the glove and my finger hits cold metal. “There’s something inside this one.”
“Pull it out.”
So I do.
A diamond ring glitters in my palm. Eyes wide, I meet Jake’s warm gaze.
“You can’t live in that big house alone,” he says softly. Taking the ring from my hand, he slips it over my finger. “Perfect fit.”
Claire and Penny share a glance. Then Penny whips open the makeup kit and places it on Claire’s desk. “Just a tiny bit under the eyes. You’re looking a little tired.”
“That’s because Jake and Max had it out in the practice ring yesterday and Jake won. He was…” I hesitate and my cheeks burn. “Very pleased.”
Ray snorts a laugh. Penny gives me a touch-up. Claire fluffs my hair. Ray muses about why people make a big production out of simple things. I wonder what the hell is going on.
Finally, I grab a notepad and pen and walk down the corridor to the newly appointed meeting room. Along the way, I check out the two rooms that will become offices for the new associates I hired: Jill, to help with the paying clients, and a friend from the community legal aid clinic to manage the pro bono side of the firm. We are busy at Amanda Westwood, LLP. And I hope it stays that way.
The door to the meeting room, a normal-height slab of beige wood, stands ajar. Taking a moment to compose myself, I step into the room, ready to meet my newest client.
Light floods across the thick, cream carpet through floor-to-ceiling windows. Dust motes dance in the sunbeams. A small, polished oak table with four comfy, cream leather chairs takes up the center space. I inhale the scents of leather and furniture polish and a whiff of something else, sharp and clean like an ocean breeze.
Familiar.
Across the room, the client is pouring himself a glass of water from the tray on the credenza. From the back, he takes my breath away. A tight, white T-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders and follows the frame of his body down to a narrow waist and a deliciously sexy pair of worn, ripped jeans that hug his perfect, tight ass. No more suits and ties for my carpenter and licensed amateur fighter who has dreams of going pro. He is back where he wants to be, doing what he loves to do, and looking damn fine as he does it.
I close the door. As the latch clicks, he turns to face me.
My heart squeezes as it always does when I see him. I place my legal pad on the table and close the distance between us. “What a nice surprise,” I whisper, brushing my lips over his. “You look beyond hot in those jeans. Did you come to sex me up?”
“Mmmm.” He nibbles my ear. “I need an attorney.”
“Mmmm. You have one.” I run my tongue over the seam of his lips until he opens for me, and then I slip inside to taste him. Two seconds later, he hauls me against his body, hand fisting my hair, as he devours my mouth.
“Down, girl,” he mumbles against my lips, although now he’s the one in charge. “Seriously, I need an attorney.”
“Why didn’t you just talk to me about it last night?” I stroke my hand over the Team Redemption logo on his shirt, and then lower, toward his belt.
Jake grasps my hand and pulls it away. “This is why. You’re too distracting.”
“Um…who came home all pumped from his big fight, stripped off my clothes, and carried me into the shower with him?”
“Only after you decided to check if I was wearing your present.” He backs away and perches on the edge of the table.
With a soft harrumph of disappointment, I fold my arms. “What’s the problem?”
He pulls a file folder from his briefcase and holds it out to me. “I’ve got this property, a heritage property. It’s empty and I need someone to live in it, or the neighbors might deem it abandoned and call for it to be torn down.”
My head falls back and I groan. “Not another one. You and your vacant heritage homes. Well, I’ve helped you out once already at an incredible sacrifice to myself. Really, I should be working from a sterile, characterless prefab office overlooking the Bay.”
Jake’s eyes sparkle and he motions to the folder. “Just check it out.”
“Fine.” I open the file. It contains a key and a bundle of real estate documents.
I give Jake a questioning look and he taps the top paper. “Read.”
So I read. And a sob wells up in my throat.
“This company…?” I tap the page.
“Belongs to me.”
“You bought my grandmother’s house?” My words are barely a whisper.
“Yeah, baby, I did.”
I grab a tissue and dab at my eyes. “But we weren’t even together when the sale went through.”
“You’re mine, baby. Always were. I needed some time to clear my head, but I never stopped loving you.”
“I can’t tell you—”
He cuts me off and pulls a shopping bag off the chair. “Bought you another present.”
“I don’t need another present. This is the best present I ever got.”
“This one’s better.” He shoves the plastic bag toward me.
Smiling through my tears, I reach inside and pull out a pair of fight gloves. My smile becomes a grin. “Does this mean I passed Pulverize or Perish?”
“Try them on,” he urges. “The fit is critical. Once you find the perfect fit, you’ll never want anything else.”
I slide my hand into the glove and my finger hits cold metal. “There’s something inside this one.”
“Pull it out.”
So I do.
A diamond ring glitters in my palm. Eyes wide, I meet Jake’s warm gaze.
“You can’t live in that big house alone,” he says softly. Taking the ring from my hand, he slips it over my finger. “Perfect fit.”
