Misadventures with a Lawyer Page 3

  I kicked off my shoes and poured more liquor into my glass. I took another sip and stared down at the personalized letterhead notepad on his desk. Next to it was a quill he said he brought back from Venice.

  I smirked. Tonight called for a note. No, a letter. The letter of all letters to the world’s worst but sexiest boss.

  Dear Mr. Chase Newstrom—

  I drew out a long line after his name and then tapped the pen on the paper.

  You, sir, are an asshole. Not just any asshole, mind you, the world’s biggest asshole. Your asshole is so big that it would take the world’s largest tampon to seal you over. You have no idea what you did tonight, nor do you actually care. Which is a problem. The world is not about you, it doesn’t revolve around you, and if you took a minute to smell the fucking roses, you’d see there was life revolving AROUND you.

  I took another sip of Scotch and licked the residue off my upper lip. I decided I really liked Scotch. I wasn’t sure how much this liquor was, but I knew it would be a shame to let it go later when I would need to pee. I continued with my hate mail.

  I had a wedding to attend this weekend, and thanks to you, I now have to skip it.

  Thanks to you, my friends will never forgive me. Thanks to you, my friend, who is the bride, will most likely kill me. Thanks to you, my parents will disown me for putting my job first. Thanks to you, I’ll be the laughingstock of my friendship circle. Well, the circle I had, which is completely gone now, so thanks for that.

  I paused and took another sip of Scotch. My eyes grew blurry as the words spilled out of me.

  You walk in here with that tight ass of yours, in your designer clothes, and you smell so good. Even the days you come in with your workout clothes on. The sweaty clothes cling to your body like some sort of drive-me-crazy carnal paint. You take my breath away when you step into a room. Your eyes seduce me in ways that only my erotic dreams can handle. You make me weak in the knees, and I can’t look at you longer than a few minutes for fear of lunging into your arms.

  And if given a chance, I would ruin you for any other woman. I would do things to you you’ve never experienced with anyone else. Hell, I would let you ruin me for any other man.

  I wasn’t sure what I would do that was so miraculous, but damn it, I would definitely go down trying!

  I find myself longing for you, wondering what you would feel like inside me, to have you on top of me, or your face between my legs. I close my eyes and fantasize about seducing you, straddling your body and claiming you as my own. There have been many nights I wanted to tell you how I felt, but you barely even know I exist. It hurts so much to know there’s something you want so desperately but no matter what you do, you’ll never have it. Much less deserve it.

  But I do deserve it, Chase. I deserve the world and so much more. I’ve worked my ass off to get to where I am today. So maybe the joke’s on you. So why don’t you take your tight ass and your well-built body I could bounce a quarter off of and go to hell. Go jerk off to whatever woman is floating your boat this week. I’ll pray for you that your dick doesn’t shrivel up and fall off!

  I drank down the rest of my Scotch and poured what was left of the liquor into my glass.

  And no, I’m not going to buy you more booze. So go fuck yourself, Chase! Because you’ll never get the chance to fuck me. I would have gladly bent over your desk and let you touch me. I would never commit that type of fuck-and-run with anyone else, but with you, I would.

  But not now. Not ever. That ship has fucking sailed!

  Never to be yours…

  Ainsley Speire

  After I signed my name to the letter, I swallowed back the contents of my glass and slammed the glass down. I licked the Scotch and ran my hand over the note I wrote. I nodded to myself and smiled, proud of what I’d written.

  “I’ll show him who’s in charge here,” I said with a hiccup.

  I swiped my arm across my mouth and laid my head down on my arms. I closed and opened my eyelids slowly, as if I were in slow motion. I was tired and needed a nap. Maybe all of this was a dream. I mean, after all, I would never in a million years have written a letter like that to my boss.

  No fucking way. He would have absolutely fired me.

  I would just tear it up later. He would never have to know.

  Intending to close my eyes just long enough to burn through the liquor, I felt myself drift off into fantasies of Chase.

  My favorite one was him holding my body against the wall. He held my wrists above my head while he kissed me. He pressed his knees between my thighs and his erection against the heated folds of my pussy.

  He would move his hands over my body, massaging my full breasts and teasing my nipples through my bra. I needed him as much as he needed me, but before I could tell him the words, “fuck me,” darkness took me under completely and I faded into the oblivion.

  Chapter Four

  Chase

  Saturdays were meant to be spent on ourselves, doing things like going to the gym, catching up on laundry, and watching college football. I worked all week so I could enjoy the weekends, yet here I was again driving to the office on a Saturday.

  I spent countless hours running my practice. Empires weren’t built overnight, after all. Running a successful law firm meant long hours and, sometimes, blood, sweat, and tears. I was no one’s bitch when it came to law, and I damn well wasn’t going to work for someone else. I was too much a hard-ass and too confident in my own abilities.

  As the doors to the elevator opened to my floor, I prepared myself to review the notes Ainsley would have left me regarding any information and evidence she had found. I would then prepare what I needed for Monday, with her assistance whenever she decided to show up, and then we’d reconvene in court on Monday and prove Lance’s innocence. Bam, done. Celebrate and get laid.

  I stepped out into the bright open area of the empty reception of my firm’s office, again appreciating the cleanliness. First impressions were important. Some of my clients might be shady, but it didn’t mean my office had to be.

  To maintain a pristine environment, I expected a lot—or maybe more accurately, nothing—from my staff. Don’t bring your problems to work. And don’t wallpaper anything with photos of your family. My employees were here to do a job, not take away from the professional environment by posting pictures of dogs, cats, and however many kids they had.

  I loved my family and my niece and nephews, sure, but no one would find their pictures plastered anywhere in my office. Some called me a cold, callous asshole, but if that helped me win my battles, then I was all for it.

  When I pushed my key into my personal office door, surprise rolled through me to find it unlocked.

  What the hell? Did Ainsley forget to lock my door?

  Upon opening it and entering my office, my senses were assaulted by the strong scent of…Scotch? I frowned and looked around the room. Piles of papers were stacked here and there, and food containers littered my table. And there, head down on my desk, was a passed-out Ainsley Speire.

  In one hand she held a glass with just about enough liquor left for a shot. In the other, she held the quill pen I had brought back from a trip to Venice. Next to her was my most expensive bottle of Scotch, completely drained. And partially tucked between her arm and the desk was a handwritten note of some sort.

  Everything I loathed about dirtiness crept over my skin like a centipede on a leaf. A growl erupted from Ainsley, and I frowned. Was that a snore?

  Her hair fell in tendrils over her face, and she looked peaceful. I moved a few strands of her hair, and repugnance pulled at my lips. She had been drooling.

  On my desk. Perfect.

  I moved her hand, causing the pen to fall to the floor, and then I pulled the paper out from under her arm and held it up.

  “Dear Mr. Chase Newstrom,” I started out loud.

  Maybe Ainsley would wake before I got to the end. I lifted my brow and adjusted my stance. I glanced down at her and then continued t
o read while she slept off the booze.

  “You, sir, are an asshole.” I paused and looked down at her again. “Asshole, huh?”

  I returned to the letter and read to myself about the wedding events she had planned to attend starting yesterday.

  Shit. I forgot about her wedding plans. Okay, I may be an asshole. Well, she could have reminded me, so really, whose fault was it?

  “Thanks to you, my friends will never forgive me.” I snorted. “Yeah, whatever. Your friends will get over it.” I skimmed down until the word ass grabbed my attention.

  You walk in here with that tight ass of yours, in your designer clothes, and you smell so good. Even the days you come in with your workout clothes on. The sweaty clothes cling to your body like some sort of drive-me-crazy carnal paint.

  This last part made me chuckle. I continued reading to myself.

  You take my breath away when you step into a room.

  I paused and looked down at Ainsley. Had she always felt this way? How had I not seen it? I turned my back to her and paced the room as I read.

  Your eyes seduce me in ways that only my erotic dreams can handle. You make me weak in the knees, and I can’t look at you longer than a few minutes for fear of lunging into your arms.

  I stopped once more. I’d had staff members crush on me before but not quite like this. I continued her letter until the end and then paced until I heard movement from the desk.

  I turned to face a waking Ainsley slowly rising from her slumber. I glanced down at the letter and read a choice excerpt.

  “So maybe the joke’s on you. Why don’t you take your tight ass and your well-built body I could bounce a quarter off of and go to hell. Go jerk off to whatever woman is floating your boat this week. I’ll pray for you that your dick doesn’t shrivel up and fall off! And no, I’m not going to buy you more booze. So go fuck yourself, Chase, because you’ll never get the chance to fuck me. I would have gladly bent over your desk, but that ship has fucking sailed! Never to be yours.” I paused and met her gaze. “Ainsley Speire.”

  I folded the note, smirked, and took a step forward.

  She looked down and slowly swiped her sleeve across the drool she’d left behind.

  “I—” A blush crept up her neck to her cheeks.

  “Nice letter,” I said and took another step toward her. “Did you enjoy my Scotch?”

  Her skin flushed further with a bright shade of red. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “No, you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have raided my liquor cabinet.”

  “Am I fired?” she asked.

  Ainsley met my gaze once more and bit her bottom lip. Her shirt was disheveled. It was what she had worn the day before, and the first few buttons were open. The top of her breasts barely crested the material, but it was enough to send a thrill of erotic thoughts through my mind.

  How had I not seen Ainsley like this before? Yes, she was a woman, but I’d never seen her as anything but an employee. She had just taken her bar exam, and I guessed a part of me had looked at her as someone green, someone who knew nothing about nothing, and I liked my women smart. I wanted someone who understood their body and knew how to use it, not someone new to sex who had no idea what it meant to be sexy.

  Was this the real Ainsley? Was I only now seeing her for the first time?

  “We will see, Ms. Speire,” I finally answered. “We will see. But I promise you I am intrigued by this little note of yours.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled. “Oh, shit.” She quickly held her hand over her mouth.

  I chuckled. “Do I need to read this to you again?” I held it up, and her skin flushed crimson once more. If she didn’t watch herself, she would have no blood left throughout the rest of her body. “It’s quite eye-opening, you know?”

  “Mr. Newstrom, I didn’t mean… What I mean to say is… I’m sorry. I just…well? My friends—”

  “I could give a rat’s ass about your friends. You are here to work for me and earn your stripes. You want to be a part of a successful law firm? This is how you get shit done. You stay the extra hours. You do the research. You expect the unexpected, and you prepare for it.” I held the letter up once more. “However, I didn’t expect this from you.”

  She held her face in her hands and remained seated in my chair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She wiped at her face, and her makeup from yesterday smeared across her cheeks.

  Ahh hell, she was crying. I hated it when women cried. I was a hard-ass, but I did have a soft spot for women I may have made cry. Unless they deserved it, but that was a totally different topic.

  “Ainsley, look,” I said and stepped behind my desk. I crouched down in front of her to try again. “I do not apologize for making you stay late. However, I am sorry you missed your friend’s wedding. That was a jackhole thing for me to do. If you had told me, reminded me, I would have understood and let you go.”

  “What?” she asked. “You would have let me go if I had reminded you?” She sat back in the chair and shook her head. “I think I’m pretty much fired here, so I’m just going to say what’s on my mind.”

  “I haven’t said that,” I reminded her.

  “I reminded you all week about my best friend’s wedding. I had reminders on your calendar and mine. I even mentioned something about it during the court case this week. I’m a bridesmaid, and I didn’t even show up for the rehearsal. I canceled my hair and nail appointments with her, and if I’m lucky, she’ll still let me stand for her. But I can’t expect to be there if I’m here. I was here working for you while you decided to go out on a date. So yes, Mr. Newstrom, I drank your Scotch.”

  She stood from the chair and paced the room.

  I stood to full height and set the letter on the table. I felt like the worst boss ever. With a sigh, I motioned to the paperwork. “Why don’t we do a quick review of what you found last night?”

  She rubbed her head and stood in the middle of the room. “I need a shower, to brush my teeth, and maybe throw up. Not all in that order.”

  I opened my desk drawer and then pulled out a bottle of Tylenol and walked over to my liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of water. “Here.” I handed the pills and water to her. “Take a moment, and then go to my bathroom. There’s an extra toothbrush there you can have.”

  She nodded and popped the top to painkillers, took two pills, and then swallowed. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome. Now go clean up. I’ll go through what you’ve found. And Ainsley?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You said you still might be able to stand for your friend. What time is the wedding today?”

  “Two p.m.”

  I nodded. “Call your friends. I’ll have my driver take you home and then take you to the wedding.” I smirked at my next set of words. “I’ll send along some of my best Scotch with you as well.”

  She groaned. “I am never touching Scotch again for the rest of my life.” Ainsley turned toward the bathroom, and I chuckled in her wake. She paused by the door and turned to face me. “Thank you.”

  I looked up and met her gaze. “For what? I can’t imagine why you’d be thanking me. From what I recall, you’re furious at me. The words, ‘that ship has fucking sailed’?”

  She covered her face again. “I wish I could have destroyed that before you found it.” She looked at me with a shrug. “The ‘thanks’ is for letting me go to the wedding. And sending something as a gift. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”

  She pulled her phone from her pocket, dialed a number, and brought the phone to her ear as she closed the door behind her.

  Walking into my office today, I hadn’t expected to find the note from Ainsley—nor Ainsley, for that matter—but it had opened my eyes to something I hadn’t realized before.

  Ainsley was a woman with needs. She wanted me, and I never saw it. Hell, I never saw her. She’d called me out on that in her letter.

  I was an asshole, and yet she still
wanted me. Why? I thought women wanted the theoretical knight to rescue them from the theoretical tower where the theoretical dragon held them hostage.

  Fuck… Am I the dragon?

  With a groan, I folded the note and placed it in my desk drawer. I needed to focus on my case and getting Lance free. Ainsley and her fucking lust note would have to wait. I pulled my phone out and sent a text to my driver to have the limo ready in ten minutes.

  I reviewed the notes she left for me and was happy to discover this new witness was nowhere to be seen during the party. Ainsley also had the social media giant, Facebook, open to our apparent witness’s page.

  Lo and behold, he was lip-locked with the accuser, Miss Miranda Cooper.

  “Well, if that isn’t a bunch of shit. How the hell did the prosecutor not get this information? Or were they just grasping at straws?”

  Many times, lawyers tried to take down giants for the exposure. If this court-appointed attorney had gone up against my firm and won, it would have gotten him reputable points. However, looking like an ass clown would only sink his reputation even further.

  Ainsley stepped out of the bathroom, and she appeared freshened. Her hair was smoothed back into a ponytail, the smeared makeup was washed away, and her face was no longer red with blush.

  “Thank you for the toothbrush,” she offered in a soft voice. “I appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” I said and stood from my seat. “You did good finding all this information on our guy. I guess my problem now is, why did the prosecutor not discover this as well? Seems it was a waste of time, honestly.”