Anything To Be With You

22. Its Garbage

It's Garbage

Dani

"Daniella!" Luke roars.

"What!" I scream back.

"Get in here!"

I look towards Carrie’s desk and strangle myself for the eighteenth time this hour. I am tired and bitchy from lack of sleep. Carrie giggles as I kick my chair back, which hits the wall and march my ass into his office.

"What now!" I fume.

"What is this mess?" Luke points to the computer monitor.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I round the desk and look over his shoulder.

"This! It makes no sense."

"I typed up what you sent me. What’s the problem?"

"It’s garbage!"

"How?"

"It’s not what I wrote," Luke barks.

"Not what you wrote!" I yell. I go to my desk and snap a picture of his original email, stomping back in and shoving my phone in his face. "See! The exact same."

He pushes my hand out of his face. "Finish the rest."

I take a deep breath through my nose. "Fine." I force through my clench teeth. I march out and slam the door behind me, knocking something off the wall.

"Fuck!" Luke roars.

"Language!" I holler back.

I flop in my chair and drop my head in my hands. This case is turning Luke into a stressed-out beast. His demands are getting more ridiculous by the minute. I thought everything was going to get better after our non-dinner date. Sneaking kisses and time alone. Treating me like a human and not a pile of shit. But after last night and this morning, our peace has ended.

"Daniella!" Luke howls.

I look over at Carrie again. "Help me," I mouth. Picking up the phone receiver, I call into his office.

"Get in here." He barks.

"That’s not happening."

"In here! Now!" he slams the receiver down in my ear.

I stay right where I am. I’m finished with his fucking temper and it’s not even noon. The office door whips open, and Luke marches out.

"Office. Now." He growls.

"No." I reply.

"No?"

I lean back in my chair. "Nnnnnnnnnnooo."

He rounds my desk and grabs the back of my chair. He wheels me into his office and slams the door, locking it.

"What’s up your ass?" I question as he squats in front of me.

"Daniella, I am seconds away from firing your ass and hiring one of the bimbos that worked at the mayor’s office."

I snort out a laugh. "Yeah, since they would be so much better."

Luke narrows his eyes at me. "Daniella."

I grind my teeth. "Whatever. Just send me the new copy so I can get it entered."

Luke leans forward. His hands are gripping the arms of the chair hard enough that they start to creak. "You are trying my patience, Ms. Carter."

I lean in, my nose brushing his. "And you, Mr. Archer, are driving me insane." I hiss.

His eyes darken as his eyes move to my mouth. I push the chair away with my feet. If he thinks he can just kiss this away, he has got another thing coming. But God, his kisses are the sweetest tasting thing.

Luke pulls the chair back in front of him. "I’m not playing, Sweetheart."

My heart jumps at the endearment. "Neither am I, Dimples."

His eyes flash with heat. Luke grunts as he stands and slumps behind his desk.

"Sent." He grumbles.

"Thank you." I roll myself over to the door, unlocking it and wheeling myself out.

I find Carrie’s waiting at my desk with a smirk on her pretty face. "You have a visitor." Carrie sings.

I groan. "Please tell me it’s not Helen."

"Nope. This one is very handsome," she points over to her desk.

"Bubba?" I call as I stand.

He raises his hand as he walks over. "Hey, Ma."

"That’s your son?" Carrie does a double take. "Okay, one: sorry I called your son handsome. And two: how did he, come out of there?" she points to Mason then to my vagina.

I slap her hand away. "He is very handsome, and I had a caesarean. He was only six pounds when he was born." I meet Mason halfway and he surprises me when he hugs me. "What are you doing here, Bubba?"

"Meeting Spencer at Union station and I have time to kill. Did you want to get lunch?"

Oh God. I think I’m going to cry. "You want to have lunch? With me? In public?" my voice comes out as a squeak.

Mason rolls his eyes. "Not if you’re going to cry."

I wrap my arms around him again. "I’m totally going to cry." I shake him a little and get a sigh.

I turn to Carrie. "This is my very handsome son, Mason. Mason, this is Carrie."

Mason grins. "Hey—" he clears his throat. "Hi."

Carrie beams and extends her hand. "Hey, nice to meet you. You look just like your mom," Carrie says.

Mason takes her hand and smiles as he rolls his eyes. "That’s what every teenage boy wants to hear," he mutters.

I snort, grabbing my purse and open Luke’s door. "I’m going to lunch—"

"Like hell you are."

"—with Mason." I raise a brow, daring him to tell me no again.

"You have an hour."

That’s what I thought.

I shut his door and skip over to Mason.

"Ma, come on." He nods towards Carrie.

My baby boy is embarrassed of me. Parenting win. I smile up at him and slip my arm around his.

"Come on, Bubba. I have an hour."

Luke called me thirty-seven times while I was out. He couldn’t even let me have a peaceful lunch with my son. Which doesn’t happen often.

"He’s fuming," Carrie mentions as I walk in, leaving a doggie bag of wings at her desk.

"Lucky me." I mumble as I squeeze out my hair. It started raining when Mason and I left the restaurant.

I go straight to his office and walk in. Stopping dead when I catch sight of him. Luke’s pacing around his desk, phone in one hand, the other balled into a fist at his side.

"I understand that. However, with the evidence Mrs. Dobson has given me—yes. Okay, well…uh huh."

I start backing out when his head snaps up and his body turns slowly towards mine. It’s like something out of the movies. Like he can smell me or something. His eyes roam over my wet hair and clothes before motioning for me to close the door. The moment I do; he prowls towards me. Backing me into the door, pressing his warm, hard body against mine and bringing his face to my hair. Which, I must say, is weird.

"Okay. Okay, I see…yes…yes. Thank you." He hangs up and chucks his phone across the room. It hits the wall and shatters into pieces.

"Ah, who was that?" I ask as his head finds the spot between my neck and shoulder and his large hands drop to my hips.

"Doug’s new lawyer," he mumbles into my skin.

I wrap my arms around his waist. "Who is it?"

"The Shark."

"Who?" I ask.

"John Whitlock."

"For fucks sake. That's Josh's father."

Luke pulls back. "Josh is a Whitlock?"

"Unfortunately." I drop my forehead against his chest. "He's not going to go easy on you. Are you going to change your game plan?"

"Big time. I'm going to have to start from scratch."

"And what does this new plan entail?" I ask, lifting my head off his warm chest.

"You."

I point to my chest. "Me?"

"Yes."

"How am I the plan?" I probe.

His lips meet mine in the briefest of kisses. "I need you to come to court with me."

I lean back. "And do what? Cheer for you? Cheerleader outfits do not work on this body."

Luke groans and closes the gap between us again. "Why did you have to put that image in my head." His fingers flex on my hips.

"Add it to your spank bank," I tell him.

"Already done, but no. I don’t need you to cheer for me." He drops his forehead to mine.

"Then why do you need me there?" I’m not fully understanding where his train of thought is headed.

"You’ll throw John off his game."

I push him back and slip under his arm. "I’m gonna to pass on that."

Luke turns from the door. "Are you serious? This is a make-or-break case for me. If I win against The Shark, it'll be something people talk about for years."

"Yes, I'm serious. I am not going to allow you to use me to win a case."

Luke throws up his hands. "Fine. Remember that when they take you to court for custody of Mason. I will not allow you to use me or Mark to win that case."

I balk at his words. "Don’t you dare bring Mason into this."

Luke crosses his arms over his chest. "Do I look as if I care."

Oh, he’s going to care when I stab him in the trachea with a pen. I grind my teeth together to keep my tongue from saying what I really want to say. "Fuck you." I say instead and push past him. I start packing up my things.

"What do you think you’re doing?" Luke says from the doorway.

"Leaving. I'm done dealing with you today." I answer.

"Fine." He says, slamming the door to his office.

The doorbell rings at nine-thirty. I don’t bother getting up. Whoever it is can kiss my ass. I’ve already had Carrie call me multiple times since I left, leaving a dozen messages on my voicemail. Which I deleted. Probably should’ve at least listened to them or sent her a text. I like that girl. It’s not her fault that her cousin is a fucking dickhead.

The doorbell rings again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

"Ugh!" I force myself off the couch and over to the door. "Axe, I swear to God, if this is you being an ass, I’m drowning you in the toilet." I open the door, but it isn’t Axe standing on the other side of the door.

"Archer?" I look past him but don’t see his truck. "Did you walk here?"

"I did." He answers.

"In the rain?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I had a lot to think about." His eyes rake over my body, making me shiver.

I should leave him out there, but he looks so pathetic. Standing there soaking wet, with his hair plastered to his forehead and his shirt stuck to his…very, hard, chest.

Damnit!

I move aside and let him in. "Kitchen. I’ll get you something dry to wear."

I hurry up the stairs and rummage around Mason’s room. Thank God he's at Spencer's for the night, I don't think he'd be pleased with me in his room. I grab a pair of gray sweatpants—because that’s all he seems to have—and a random shirt. "That's where all my cups went." I mutter to myself, spying ten cups on hid dresser. I'll deal with that later.

I head back into the kitchen and hand over the clothes. "There’s a washroom you can use over there." I point to the door off the living room.

"Thank you," he says.

I wait until Luke shuts the door and dump myself into a chair. Nine-thirty at night and he decides to make house calls.

Luke walks out moments later, and I mentally kick myself for lending him Mason’s clothes. The shirt has attached itself to his chest. I can see every ridge of his muscles as clear as day, and those gray sweatpants leave nothing to the imagination.

Note to self: buy Mason darker sweatpants.

Standing, I stick my hand out. "Gimme."

Luke hands over his wet clothes and I shove them in the dryer, hitting the thirty-minute button. "They’ll be wrinkled but dry. You have half an hour."

Luke nods as I sit back down at the table. I wave a hand at the other chair. "Sit. You’re making me uneasy."

Luke does just that, clasping his hands and resting them on the table.

"Why are you here, Archer?"

"To apologise."

"Uh-huh. And you didn’t think a simple phone call would suffice?" I ask.

He runs a hand through his hair and a whimper escapes my throat.

Double damnit!

"Carrie said you weren’t answering your phone," he runs his hand through his hair again.

I lean back and grab him a dish towel off the over door. "It’s clean." I toss it to him.

"Thanks." Luke dries his hair, causing it to sick up every which way. "I apologise, Daniella." He exhales. "Learning that Doug managed to snag John as his lawyer is stressing me out. I've argued against John a handful of times and he demolished me every time." Luke tosses the towel on the table. "I should have never asked you to play pawn or said those things about Mason."

"What you said hurt. I don't think you realize how much." I admit.

"I'm truly sorry. I was panicking and not thinking how my words would affect you," he stares at me. Those ice blue eyes pleading with me to forgive him.

"Let me make one thing very clear, Archer. You are not to use me as a pawn in any court case or bring Mason into any argument."

"Deal."

The dryer buzzes. I stand and grab his dry clothes, handing them over. "I’ll drive you back to the office," I say and swipe my purse off the end of the banister.

"Thank you. Let me just change." I grab his arm before he even takes a step.

"Keep them."

He raises a brow. "Won’t Mason know he’s missing clothing?"

"Nope. And I would prefer my son not have anymore gray sweatpants."

Luke kept his word.

We've had multiple arguments since that night two weeks ago, and not once has he brought up Mason. Even when Mason called ten times in five minutes asking where his shoe is. Six other pairs but he has to have his red ones all the time.

The gentle strumming of a guitar comes through Luke's door.

"What is that?" I stand from my desk and step closer, pressing my ear to the wood.

Soft singing follows soon after. I flatten my body against the door, straining to hear. The voice is stunning. Soft yet masculine, pouring heart and soul into the song. I close my eyes and lose myself in the beautiful song.

"Dani?"

I jump back, smashing my hip against my desk. I hiss and squeeze my hip with my hand, trying to stop the throbbing pain.

"Yeah?"

Carrie walks over and tilts her head. "Were you listening at Luke's door?"

"I was." I grunt, stretching my hip.

"Why?"

"I heard singing and a guitar being played."

Carrie's hazel eyes widen as they shift towards Luke's office door. "Maybe he has his Spotify on." She says, inching towards the door.

"To my knowledge, Metallica has never done an acoustic version of The Unforgiven ." I state, rubbing my hip. I'm going to have a nasty bruise.

Carrie knocks on the door. When she gets no answer, she tries again.

"It's open," Luke calls.

Carrie walks in with me right on her heels. Luke is sitting at his desk, books open and spread out over his desk.

"Ladies," he greets.

"Dani says she heard someone singing and playing guitar in here." Carrie says.

Panic flashes in Luke's ice blue eyes. "Is that so."

Carrie and I both nod.

"Well," he clears his throat. "I can assure you, there was none of that going on in here."

A look passes between him and Carrie.

I narrow my eyes. He's hiding something. The panic in his eyes, clearing his throat, sharing a look with Carrie. He's lying. I open my mouth to call him out, when I'm grabbed by the arm and dragged out of the office.

"Thought so. Bye, Luke." Carrie says, shutting the door behind us.

"What's going on?" I question. "I know I heard something."

"Nothing's going on. Maybe the music was coming from outside." Carrie brushes off my comment and heads back to her desk.

I glance back at Luke's door.

I know I heard something.

I barge into Luke's office, finding him as we left him a few minutes ago.

"Did you need something, Daniella?" he asks.

The panic has left his eyes, being replaced with a questioning look.

"No." I close the door and sit behind my desk.

I shake my head and get back to work.

Guess I'm hearing things.