9. Cade
9
CADE
THE FOLLOWING WEEK, MONDAY MORNING
I stroll into the office feeling optimistic about the week ahead.
After attending to my morning correspondence, I make it a point to stop in on the paralegals, not usually a customary practice at the onset of each week. Naturally, I’m keen to observe Kennedy’s integration into the team.
When I get there, the renovation crew has already descended on their office, working on plans for the remodel. In the middle of this organized chaos, three of the paralegals are huddled together around the tables now crammed in the middle of the room, reviewing case files.
My attention is drawn straight to Kennedy. Standing by the bookshelves in a cream-colored suit with matching pencil skirt, her long legs are showing to their best advantage. When she moves gracefully from the bookcase back to the desk, her neat, chocolate-brown ponytail sways behind her. Her eyes are focused on the notes in front of her, and she seems to be the only one who hasn’t noticed me come in.
I nod to everyone who has.
They respond formally before explaining their need to retrieve a few things from the file room, and Kennedy and I are alone.
“Getting along with everybody so far?” I ask, stepping closer and smelling her perfume. Amber and sandalwood. It’s the same perfume she was wearing back then. That night.
She looks up, a friendly expression on her face. “Yes, absolutely. No problems at all. Everyone has been incredibly accommodating.” She clears her throat and refocuses on the stack of file folders in front of her. “Except Soren Dahlberg, but I don’t mind.”
She turns a few pages in one of the folders, busying herself.
“Did you have a nice weekend?” I ask.
Without glancing up, she says, “Fine. And you?”
“My weekend was pretty good,” I tell her, slipping my hands into my pockets. “I went out riding to Providence with my biker buddies. Great weather. Great day. Evening, too: I was able to talk to my brother on Skype on Saturday night.” By then, I realize that she likely doesn’t care and that I’m lingering too long. But what can she say about it, really? I’m the boss. I can linger all I want.
She puts the file aside and quickly scans the room to make sure nobody else is here. When her eyes land on mine, she whispers, “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Do what?” I ask in a voice equally hushed, arching a brow in question.
“Try so hard to make small talk,” she says, her voice still low. “You’re right. The past is the past. I’m doing just fine, so there’s no need to make things weird.”
“Oh, I’m the one making things weird? I thought you were the one doing that. I’m only making conversation, the same as I would with any other employee. You just happen to be the only one in the room right now.”
Her shoulders relax and she leans back. “Maybe that’s because,” she suggests with a playful smirk, “the other paralegals made a hasty exit when you walked in?”
I respond with a light chuckle. “Could be.”
“Judging by how on edge they seem around you, I doubt you’re always this approachable.”
I shrug off her teasing. “Striking the right balance between being friendly and observing boundaries is essential for promoting cooperation and respect among colleagues.”
“Just as long you don’t treat me any different from the rest,” she chirps back. Then she glances at her watch and looks back up at me for my answer.
“I’m not. As I said.”
In our silent exchange, our eyes hold each other’s gaze for longer than usual. Her forest green eyes reveal a depth of emotion I can’t quite interpret, yet I can’t look away.
“Great,” Kennedy says, “Well, in that case, my weekend was just fine, as I said.”
I offer a nod, preparing to take my leave. “Good, I’m glad.”
“So, how’s your brother doing? Joey, right?”
I stop. “You remember Joey? He’s stationed in Japan these days. He’s a bit homesick, not that he would admit it to his big brother, but other than that, he’s doing fine.”
The file in front of her emits a soft crackle as she closes it shut. “When will he be home?”
“It’ll be a while. But hopefully I’ll see him for Christmas.”
“I hope so too.” She rises to her feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to my first meeting with Mary Larkin.”
“Already? That’s excellent.”
“Thank you again for trusting me with this.” She swiftly gathers her belongings and swings her bag over her shoulder before pausing for a moment. “And you don’t need to worry. I’m going to handle it professionally.”
“Don’t doubt it. Good luck, Kennedy. Show them what you’ve got.”
Kennedy actually gives me a smile this time. It soars straight to my heart.
“I should get going,” she says. “Do you need anything else from me before I go?”
“No, nothing at all.”
Without a goodbye, she heads for the door, leaving another trace of her scent as she goes. I inhale sharply, fighting to keep the memories at bay.
Before leaving for my appointment at the courthouse, I take a detour to the front desk. The elegant woman on duty is in her early fifties, and today she’s wearing a low bun with loose curls. As per usual, she perks up immediately when she sees me coming.
“Mr. Gladwell, so nice to see you.” She smiles brightly. “Did you have a good weekend?”
“It could have been better,” I grumble. “When my three o’clock shows up, will you have them wait here in the lobby? There’s too much construction on the tenth floor, and I don’t want any visitors upstairs.”
“Certainly, sir.”
I return to the office after working hours, and it’s as good as empty. How the meeting with Mary Larkin went, I’ll find out soon enough. Kennedy didn’t call or leave a note, which I take to mean that things went smoothly. I’m confident she worked her charm, or at the very least, extracted some valuable intel.
Trading my dress shoes for my biker boots, I’m mentally halfway out the door, eager to meet up with Oliver Humphries and his brother Miles, who reminds me so much of my younger brother, Joey. They share the same dark hair, tattooed skin, rebel soul.
Joey takes after our mom, so good-hearted, with a life-loving spirit, and I take after our dad, the go-getter, the grinder, or, in much less positive terms, the workaholic. Joey and Dad used to drive each other nuts. Mom was the family’s peacemaker, trying her best to create harmony. But with family members as controlling as Dad and as rebellious as Joey, it was a fool’s errand.
My brother and I were always close, but after the death of our parents we got even closer, despite our very obvious differences. While I worked my ass off in school, talking my way out of any sticky situation, Joey took a different path. He seemed to effortlessly find trouble at every turn. He didn’t just stumble into it, either—he embraced it with open arms. I’ve lost count of the number of times he landed in hot water, including that one incident in college that nearly made headlines.
Joey was always a loose cannon, charging into battle if he so much as even got a whiff of something unfair. But after that bastard in the black Chevy truck killed our parents in a hit-and-run, it was as if the ground opened up under my brother. It shook him so hard that it knocked whatever sense he had clean out of him, leaving him angry, lost, and unsure of where to put all that anger.
A few months later, after I met Kennedy, Joey joined the armed forces. Not the obvious choice for a guy like him. Maybe he figured that boot camp discipline might do what I couldn’t—give him a direction that didn’t land him in a holding cell.
That righteous fury he felt, though?That’s something we both inherited from our parents. The need to stand up for something, even if it damn near breaks you. I get it. I understood and still understand Joey’s frustration. At times, the legal system can seem like a farce. It doesn’t always succeed in delivering the justice it purports to uphold. In fact, way too often, it fails to live up to its own lofty ideals.
The memory of that late afternoon, the screech of tires and the shattering of lives, yeah, it still haunts us. That young drunk bastard who killed our parents almost got away with it.
Thankfully, Soren Dahlberg from Sanford & Partners made sure the little shithead would be serving time as a guest of the state instead of being served brunches at his dad’s country club. At one point, his rich daddy even offered Soren a blank check if he’d “reconsider” the case. Soren didn’t budge, didn’t even flinch. As far as the trial went, it didn’t hurt that he and the judge shared a few, well, extracurricular interests. End result: No amount of Daddy’s money could buy off the court, and for once, justice was actually served.
Years later, Soren was the first man I ever hired. He’s more than my right hand. I trust him unequivocally. He’s the one who manages our finances, handling everything from overseeing the business’s financial aspects to bonus distributions for successful cases. He’s direct, he’s honest, and he doesn’t play games. Sure, he’s not exactly a pet lover, and his heart might not skip a beat at the thought of helping older folks cross the street, but those are the worst things anyone can say about him. Trust me. Nobody is perfect and we all make mistakes. Men like him are a rarity in the shit world we live in. Soren’s rock-solid character sets the bar for the kind of man I aspire to be.
Anyhow, Joey and I remain in contact as best as we can, but it isn’t always easy. Hanging out with the two Humphries brothers reminds me of how much I miss my own brother. I enjoy our motorbike rides, but when Oliver brings Miles along, it’s extra special.
Helmet in hand, I head for the bathroom down the hall because mine is under construction.
The construction crew that’s working their way down the halls seems to have removed the signs on the bathroom doors. I quickly scan the area and spot a countertop nearby where I casually set my helmet before entering the bathroom. Thankfully, hardly anybody is left in the office at this hour, so I don’t have to try too hard to remember which bathroom is the women’s and which the men’s.
It’s a good thing the place is empty, too, because the moment I step through the swinging door, I realize I’ve chosen incorrectly. But before I can make it back out, a voice echoes through the tiled room.
“Haha, no! Stop!” The female voice exclaims, snort-laughing from behind one of the locked stall doors. “No, not when I see him every day now. It’s bad enough he was the best I ever had. The best in bed, anyway.”
That should be enough to make me even more determined to leave, but I freeze when I realize who the voice belongs to.
“This one time, he devoured my clit, and I swear, I came, like, in less than ten seconds… Oh , I already told you that?… Ufff , I know, Harper!”
Who is she talking about?
Is she talking about me ?
I brace myself against a sink.
“It was mind-blowing ,” she says, sighing. “For real. I know that’s how guys like Cade get away with being such jerks, otherwise.”
Ha.
So she is talking about me.
“No way… He doesn’t need the boost to his ego, believe me. If his head were any bigger, they’d have to include widening his office door in the remodel.” She snort-laughs again.
Well, I do have to agree with her there. My head is pretty big. And I don’t necessarily assume she’s talking about the one on my shoulders, either.
“No worries, of course not. Never again. I just need to keep on being cool and professional. But I can’t do that without venting to you about how crazy it makes me feel, seeing him every day and being flooded with all these memories. Knowing we are never going to sleep together again.”
Whoa.
Hold the goddamn case file.
Did I hear that correctly? I sensed she was guarding herself, of course, but I had no clue that she was entertaining thoughts of sleeping with me. That it makes her crazy she can’t ever slee?—
Suddenly, the latch clicks and her stall door opens.
I spin around and head out the door. When it swings shut behind me, I can still hear her inside, talking on the phone as she washes her hands.
“No, I haven’t forgotten about our bet,” she snorts. “Harper! Stop pestering me! I’ll do it! Yes, I know I pinky-promised. I just need a little more time to get settled in… No, I’m not procrastinating…”
Glad I averted that encounter, I try to process what I heard and reach for my helmet.
For as much grief as she’s caused me, at least I know how she feels underneath that cool exterior. She still wants me.
That’s when Kennedy bursts out of the bathroom like a hurricane, careening straight into me. The collision sends my helmet clattering to the ground.