Misadventures with a Lawyer Page 5

  Was she upset? Nervous? Scared?

  “Good morning, Ainsley,” I said before I realized I’d even muttered the words.

  She raised her eyes and met mine, and her endless sea of green captured me. God, did I want her.

  She stepped into my office and stood in the entry. “Good morning, Mr. Newstrom.”

  “Close the door, please,” I asked.

  As she did, her body seemed timid. Like a rabbit was being stalked by a fox and said fox just invited her into his den. The door clicked closed, and Ainsley slowly turned back to face me. Her eyes were once again focused on the floor.

  “What can I help you with this morning, Mr. Newstrom?”

  She was scared, and rightfully so. She’d told the owner of the firm she was working for in hopes of landing a position once her bar results came in to, more or less, fuck off.

  “I wanted to thank you for the evidence you found to support our client.”

  She nodded. “It was nothing.”

  “Ainsley,” I said and stood from my seat. “Please, come sit down. I think we need to have a talk.”

  She closed her eyes, and her throat moved as she swallowed. She nodded and approached one of the chairs across my desk. The perfume she wore filled the air with a light floral fragrance. It wasn’t too heavy and was perfect for her. She sat down and set her briefcase on the floor next to herself. Ainsley then crossed one leg over the other, her skirt just short enough that I could barely see the underside of her thigh.

  I imagined my hand running up the outside of her leg while I settled between her thighs, ready to claim her as mine.

  “Yes, Mr. Newstrom?” she asked, breaking my thoughts.

  With a sigh, I crossed to the front of my desk and leaned against the edge of it. “Saturday morning, when I came into the office—”

  “Yes, I’m so sorry,” she blurted out and cut me off. “I don’t know what I was thinking, and honestly, it never should have happened.”

  I raised my brows. She still refused to meet my gaze.

  “Is that how you really feel?”

  She lifted her gaze and met mine. “I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

  “Are you really sorry you wrote that letter to me?”

  She tried to meet my gaze, but her eyes darted back and forth as if she wasn’t sure which eye to focus on.

  I pulled my lips into a smirk and lifted a brow. “To say it surprised me would be an understatement.”

  She nodded, blinked, and then looked to my chest, back to my eyes, and then to the floor once more. “If you don’t mind,” she started, “can we forget it ever happened?”

  A blush crept up her neck to her ears and then her cheeks. I wanted to watch her squirm in her seat. I cleared my throat to give her my thoughts on the subject. No, I didn’t want to forget it. I wanted to explore our options and see where we ended up. I wanted to take her right here on my desk. I wanted to grip her ass as tight as I could while I fucked her from behind.

  Instead, she squared her shoulders and sat up straight in her chair. “I have work to do, sir, so if you don’t mind…” She began to stand, when the intercom buzzed.

  “Mr. Newstrom,” the receptionist called, “you have a visitor. And I’m sorry, sir, she insisted on seeing you.”

  As she finished her sentence, my door opened. On the other side was my ex, Patricia. The woman was long and lean, her bottle-blond hair pulled into a ponytail. She had bright-blue eyes, was tan by way of spray tanning, and was the vainest person I’d ever met…aside from myself.

  She smirked and stepped inside. She waved off Ainsley as if she weren’t in the room.

  “Chase, darling,” she began. “There’s a fundraiser in a few weeks, and your firm has donated quite a bit of money for the cause. It’s a black-tie social event, and we must go together.”

  I raised my brows. Who the fuck did Patricia think she was talking to?

  “Of course I know about the event. My firm puts it on, so yes, I’m aware.” I glanced at Ainsley and found a small grin tugging at her lips. “Furthermore, I’m already going with someone else. Now, unless you have anything related to the case I’m working on, Ainsley and I are quite busy this morning. We have a court appearance to prepare for.”

  Patricia glanced down to Ainsley and sneered in disgust. That told me everything I needed to know about Patricia…as well as myself. For the first time, I saw myself through someone else’s eyes, and to be quite honest, it was extremely disappointing.

  “So what are you saying?” she asked.

  “We have court,” Ainsley repeated and stood from her chair. “Mr. Newstrom, I’ll grab everything we need for today. I’ll see about scheduling a celebratory party for our defendant, if you’d like?”

  I nodded. “Sounds perfect. I appreciate that, and I know our guy will too.”

  “Who are you defending?” Patricia asked.

  “Well, if you were actually interested, you should turn on the news,” Ainsley told her as she turned and walked out my office door.

  “Well, she’s just a little bitch, isn’t she?” Patricia said.

  I smiled. I couldn’t help myself. “No, she’s a promising up-and-coming future attorney who just took the bar. She has a bright future ahead of her. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do. I’m sure you’ll find a date for the event. Or go stag. No difference to me, Patricia.”

  I stepped past her and held my door open. Looking at the woman now, I didn’t know what I ever saw in her. It was crazy I once thought she could’ve been the love of my life.

  At least until I’d caught her fucking my former best friend Mitch.

  Patricia huffed and walked past me as she left. “You’ll regret not taking me, Chase,” she warned. “You know I have the connections to make you big.”

  “Amy,” I called to our receptionist. “Please make sure Patricia leaves and that the door closes on her way out.”

  “Yes, sir,” Amy called back.

  “Fuck you, Chase,” Patricia growled.

  I smirked and shook my head. “That ship has fucking sailed.” I closed the door to my office and the words that ship has fucking sailed haunted my mind. They were the same words that Ainsley had written in her letter.

  With a sigh, I crossed my office, picked up my briefcase, and put inside everything we needed to get this case dropped. Soon, Lance Vanderbilt would be exonerated. The question, though, was what would become of Miranda Cooper? Lance’s family could countersue, but would he agree to it? He was a nice kid, but his family was wealthy, and everything rode on their name and image.

  I looked at the clock. We had an hour before the court session began. I walked toward my office door and reached for the handle just as the door opened. Ainsley stood before me.

  Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, we were both motionless, speechless. There was a longing in her eyes that passed between us, and then it was gone.

  “We should go,” she said.

  I nodded and held up my briefcase. “Lance should be a free man before the day’s end.”

  “Then let’s go get this done.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ainsley

  “Not guilty,” declared the jury foreman.

  The new witness’s testimony had been thrown out, and Lance was now a free man. His name and standing would require some massive cleanup, but we already had a PR firm working on just that.

  Lance shook Chase’s hand and then turned to me. “You both are amazing. Thank you so much.”

  “It was all Mr. Newstrom,” I told him. And it was. He was the attorney. I was basically his errand girl.

  Miranda Cooper’s parents screamed out something about injustice as their daughter, in tears, kept saying, “I’m sorry,” to Lance.

  There was sadness in his eyes. He was happy to be free, but the cost was the friendship he had with this girl.

  It was unfortunate she’d gone after his family’s money. Greed was a nasty sin. As was lust. I looked over to Chase and found
him watching me. My stomach fluttered with butterflies. I smiled and looked away.

  I needed air. It felt like the courtroom was closing in the closer I stood next to Chase. I glanced at him again, and he was closing the distance to me. Shit. Double shit. What am I supposed to do now?

  “Well done, Speire. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  I smiled and offered a slight shrug. “Yes, you would have. It just may have taken you longer.”

  He chuckled. “Listen, now that this is done, I’d like to ask—”

  My phone rang, and it jolted me where I stood. I didn’t know if Chase was about to ask me out or ask me if I had received my bar results. I didn’t know what I would say if he asked me to grab a drink. It wouldn’t be Scotch, that much I knew.

  But why would he ever ask me on a date? He was so far out of my league. In my dreams and home with my trusty BOB were the only places I could imagine myself with Chase and not have to worry about rejection.

  “I’m sorry. Hang on,” I said and fished my phone out. It was my sister. “Hey,” I answered. “I’m in court.” Well, sort of. The case was over, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “Obviously not or you wouldn’t have answered. I watched enough Law and Order to know that much.”

  I laughed into the phone. She was a stylist in downtown Fort Worth and loved what she did. She was a sort of therapist for the majority of her clients.

  “Well, you got me there. But listen, let me call you back. We just won and need to pack up.”

  “Oh, did the rapist get off?” she asked.

  “That’s not very nice. He was set up.”

  “Sure, whatever. Call me when you get time. We’ll go have a drink to celebrate your win.”

  “Love you. Goodbye.” I hung up without giving her the opportunity to say anything further.

  “Who was that?” Chase asked.

  “My sister. Well, congratulations today on your win. You deserved it. Unless there’s anything else, I need to run. Leave whatever needs to be completed on my desk, and I’ll have it done ASAP.”

  He nodded. “Very well. Enjoy your afternoon.”

  I met his gaze once more. I didn’t want him to ask me whatever he had planned, so I hurried out of the courtroom before he changed his mind and I combusted from overheating with lust.

  I pulled up to my sister’s shop in Fort Worth. The day was still young, and the atmosphere was busy with women getting their hair washed, cut, and colored. In the back sat pedicure massage chairs, and behind that was the massage parlor and facial rooms. My sister did it all and made pretty good money at it. She loved what she did and had tried many times to get me to go into business with her.

  “I’m not one to have enough patience to work with hair or listen to why so-and-so’s husband won’t have sex with her,” I’d told her many times.

  “It’s not all about that,” she had countered. “It’s fun and you get to make great…and interesting friends.”

  Eight years later, I was out of school and waiting to hear if I’d passed the bar.

  “Ainsley!” my sister, Everly, called as I opened the door to her shop. She was a complete extrovert. Everly could talk to almost anyone anywhere. She never knew an enemy.

  Her hair was shoulder-length and blond with caramel lowlights. She loved wearing dark-red lipstick. Today’s outfit consisted of a halter top, denim capris, and ballet flats. She wore a black smock to protect her clothes. The front of it was lined with hair clips, her sheers and clippers, and a dust brush.

  “Hey, sis,” I said as I stepped inside.

  She stopped what she was doing long enough to meet me halfway for a hug. “What brings you by?”

  With a sigh, I lowered my eyes to the floor. “I think I fucked up,” I whispered.

  She tilted my head up and looked into my eyes. Her green eyes had specks of gold and looked just like our mother’s. “Did you fuck your boss?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet.”

  “Oh, hell,” she whispered and laid her hands on my shoulders. “Let me finish up Mrs. Gilbert, and I’ll clear my schedule for the rest of today.” She turned to the receptionist and grabbed her book. “I need you to mark me out after my current appointment. Family emergency.”

  The receptionist nodded and punched a few keys into the computer and then picked up the phone to start making the necessary calls.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Go finish up. I’ll wait for you.”

  She touched my cheek and then pointed toward the back wall. “Room three is empty. Go wait in there. The room is dark and is relaxing. There are essential oils in there to help in meditation.”

  “Okay,” I told her and made my way to the back. The smell of hair color and hairspray faded as I walked into the back massage area.

  Room three, as she directed, was indeed empty. I closed the door behind me. On the wall just inside was my sister’s license to perform esthetician work, with an image of her. She was beautiful and had an infectious smile.

  With a sigh, I walked over to the massage table and ran my hand over the top. It was soft and warm. Curious, I lifted the blanket and found a heating pad turned on at the ready. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, I set my purse down, removed my shoes, and climbed onto the table. I lay down on my back, laid my head on the bed pillow, and closed my eyes.

  The heat was welcoming, and the smell of eucalyptus was nice. Images of Chase drifted through my mind. From his business suit to his workout clothes, the man was sexy as sin. My mind went to a dream I often had of Chase…

  He slid his hands down my sides, and his lips captured mine. He was soft like velvet and tasted like the juiciest plum. I wanted to devour him.

  He tilted my head up and pulled my body firm against his. He slipped a hand behind my head and tangled it in my hair. Giving my hair a firm tug, he yanked my head to the side and nibbled up and down my neck.

  I gasped and slid my fingers under my skirt and panties. Pressing my fingers against my clit, I moved them side to side, my mind telling me it was Chase who had his fingers inside me.

  “I need you,” I whispered.

  “Let me fuck you,” he teased back.

  A sudden knock on the door brought me from my daydream with a gasp. I quickly pulled my fingers from my sex, straightened myself, and sat up.

  “Hey, sis, you in here?” Everly asked and peeked inside.

  “You said room three,” I told her and prayed the blush on my cheeks wouldn’t give away what I was just doing.

  She stepped inside, and I hoped she couldn’t hear my heart beating five hundred miles an hour.

  “Okay, so let’s talk.” She locked the door and climbed onto the table next to me. “Spill. What happened?”

  I gripped the table I was sitting on and closed my eyes. I told her about almost missing Ashley’s wedding, drinking a fuck ton of Chase’s Scotch, and writing the letter.

  “Okay, so you wrote a nastygram. No harm no foul. Right?”

  I opened my eyes and looked at her. My brows were pressed together with a plea for her to read my mind without me saying as much. I bit my lip and felt my eyes burn with the threat of tears.

  “Oh, shit,” she whispered. “How did he get the letter?”

  “I passed out on his desk. I woke up Saturday morning, and he was standing over me.”

  “Oh, shit,” she repeated. “Okay, so tell me this. Was he frowning or smiling?”

  “More smiling than frowning.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  I looked to my hands and twisted my fingers together. “He had this sly smile, like a Cheshire grin.”

  “Oh, hell,” she squealed. “You realize he wants you as much as you want him?”

  I frowned and met her gaze. “And you’ve officially sniffed too much hair product.”

  “Oh, my God, sis. Do you not see what is right in front of you? If he was smiling, smirking, whatever, if he looked like he wanted to ea
t you alive, this is a good thing!”

  I bit my lip once more. “Really?” I whispered. I had a hard time believing this, but he had smiled.

  “Yes,” she insisted. “And as your sister, I encourage you to go for it.”

  “Go for what?” I asked. “I’m so not his type.”

  “What is his type, then?”

  I sighed and shrugged. “Tall and thin. Model perfect, hasn’t eaten for days, and hangs on every word he says as if they’re absolutely interested.”

  “And they have no idea what he’s talking about, am I right?”

  I nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Well, you will know what he’s talking about when you converse, and there’s a chance you are his type but he didn’t realize it until you pointed it out to him.”

  “I pointed nothing out other than I’m a damned fool who should have never touched his Scotch. Said letter would never be in existence.”

  “You’re a pussy,” she stated.

  I frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re a fucking pussy, sis. Tall, dark, and gorgeous wants you, and you’re too scared to pounce on him like the sexy feline you are.”

  I laughed at her explanation. “Number one, I’m not a fucking cat. And two, I’ll never pounce on him.”

  “Why the fuck not?” she asked. “What’s stopping you?”

  “Well, the simple fact that I’m working at his law firm and he could throw me away in disgust.”

  She groaned and hopped down from the table. “Do me a favor and fucking go for it, okay? Please, do us both the favor. Hook up with him, get married, and have children so Mom will quit asking me when I’m getting married and having babies.”

  I laughed and hopped down from the table. I pulled Everly into a hug. “Well, you are older.”

  “And I rather like my single life, thank you very much,” she told me. “I’m not ready to settle down.”

  “I’m not either.”

  She smiled and cupped my cheeks. “You may not have a choice once you go for Chase Newstrom. He may sweep you off your feet.”