Chapter 12
“Mr. Callahan?”
“They’re here?” I asked, not looking up from the papers on my desk.
“Yes, sir,” my assistant answered.
“Who came on Colson’s behalf?”
“Vance Hawthorne. And Preston Colson himself.”
I glanced up, a slow smirk curling on my lips. “Oh, Annie girl, you just made my day.”
Preston Colson was a grade-A douche. He grew up in Cliffside and went to school with me, Lucas, and Blake, and we’d hated each other since elementary school.
I was never one for grudges, but in Preston’s case, if he had no haters, it was because I was dead.
He always thought he was better than everyone and was one of those “Do you know who I am?” guys because of daddy’s and mommy’s money and last name.
These days, he ran Colson Legal Group alongside his dad, and they were known for their long list of high-end clientele, including hotel chains, like the one my client was suing for retaliatory discharge.
My client, Mike, was a thirty-year-old Bayport local and single father of two who used to work as a maintenance technician in Isle of Palms for Luxe Resorts, a hotel chain with properties all along the coast of the Carolinas.
He injured his back on the job while removing debris from the hotel grounds after a tropical storm.
After some time off, his physician told him he could return to work, but only under certain restrictions, including no heavy lifting or prolonged standing.
However, when he returned to work, his job duties remained the same because they refused to honor the doctor’s light duty recommendation.
Mike’s injury eventually worsened, and his doctor took him out of work for a month to get physical therapy.
Right before Mike was set to return to full-time employment, he received a letter from Luxe stating that his position was being eliminated because they were cutting back on the number of maintenance workers they had on staff. He was terminated.
And that’s where I came in.
Considering Luxe initially tried to deny Mike’s workers’ comp claim—with no leg to stand on, might I add—and then magically got rid of his position right before he was about to come back, it was clear to me exactly what they were doing.
They just didn’t expect him to take legal action, probably assuming he wouldn’t be able to afford it.
Pro bono can be a wonderful fucking thing.
The day Mike walked into Pierson I’d been calling him that since middle school, and he fucking hated it.
“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out. ”
I turned and left the conference room without another glance, heading back toward my office.
That really set the tone for the rest of my Friday.
Everything else went smoothly, and by the time five o’clock rolled around, I was in a decent mood and ready to start my weekend.
Hell, hopefully, the day I had would continue through the night, and I would find someone at Agora later to get me out of this goddamn second slump that I was now three fucking months into.
It was mid-January. It was a brand new year.
And I had a feeling things were finally going to change for the better. At least I hoped they were.
I slipped a few things into my outgoing mail tray and put away the case files I’d been working on before standing from my desk. My head snapped up when I heard quick footsteps approaching my door, and Gabe appeared a moment later. “Oh, thank God, you’re still here,” he said, somewhat out of breath.
“I was just about to head out. What’s up?”
“I just got a call from a client, and they need me to meet with them. I don’t know why, but they said it was extremely important.”
My brow furrowed. “Okay…what does that have to do with me?”
He held up a manila envelope. “I ended up scoring Liam Halloway and his businesses as a client for us, and I need to give him these copies of our contract agreement. He told me to just give them to Morgan, and she could give them to Grace. So I planned on stopping by Morgan’s on my way home to do that, but now I have to go meet this client. ”
I knew where this was headed, but I played dumb. “Okay. Again, what does that have to do with me?”
Gabe sighed. “Look, I know this is probably the last thing you want to do…and I wouldn’t ask you unless it was important.”
I grinned forcefully. “Then don’t ask me.”
He tilted his head with a smile. “Can you please drop these off at Morgan’s apartment?”
“No.”
“Seriously, Wes?”
“Look, I had a really good day today, and now you want me to sully that by asking me to enter the depths of Hell itself?”
“It’s Morgan’s apartment…”
“Exactly.”
“You wouldn’t even have to go in. You knock. She opens the door. You hand her the envelope and then be on your way. You’re headed in that exact direction…your complex is across the way from hers.” He stared at me. “Please.”
I clenched my teeth and my fists with a groan. “Fine. But you owe me so big for this. This is worse than that time you asked me to proof your Whitman briefs.”
“Dropping an envelope off to Morgan is worse than reading over all those pages?”
“Yes,” I hissed.
Gabe chuckled with a nod. “Okay. I owe you. Happy?”
“No.”
He handed me the manila envelope before turning for the door. “I’ll text her and let her know you’re coming instead of me so she can mentally prepare herself for the five-second exchange with you.”
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in my car in the parking lot of Morgan’s apartment complex, staring at the entrance.
I didn’t just give Gabe a hard time about doing this simply because it was Morgan and the last thing I wanted to be doing.
It was also because I’d finally gotten to a place in my new slump where I wasn’t thinking about how the last person I had sex with was her.
I didn’t need me dropping this stupid envelope off to stir up those deliciously horrible thoughts.
I let out a breath, got out of my car, and walked inside the complex, not even bothering to grab my jacket. I rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, stepped out, and walked to the end of the hall, stopping in front of door 607. And I knocked.
“It’s open!” I heard Morgan’s faint shout. Either Gabe forgot to send her a message, or he did, and she hadn’t read it yet because I knew there was no way in hell she was willingly inviting me into her apartment.
When I walked inside, the door latched shut behind me, and I let out a low whistle as I glanced around.
Morgan’s complex was the sister to mine, and it had the same layout and same hardwood floors, but it looked entirely different.
Where I had plain gray walls, she had a slightly off-white color that brightened the entire space.
I always had a feeling her place was nice, but I figured it would be like any other girls’ apartment I’d been in before—fluffy rugs, framed calligraphy quotes on the walls, the cutesy throw blankets and pillows.
It wasn’t that at all.
I was no expert in decorating, but growing up in Cliffside and around wealth, I knew enough to know that while Morgan’s apartment was unassuming, it was filled with really nice furniture. Even I could recognize the custom Eames chair in the corner of her living room.
As I took a few steps further inside, I caught a sudden whiff of a familiar scent and paused.
I shook my head and closed my eyes, tensing my jaw while exhaling an annoyed breath through my nose.
Because there were those damn thoughts and images I was trying to avoid, all triggered in an instant by the soft aroma of rose that lingered in the air.
I remembered the feel of her skin. I saw her face as she fell apart. I heard her whimpers and moans.
When my eyes snapped open, I had only one thought, one I blamed entirely on my continued sexual stagnation and my stupid dick.
I wanted her again.
I heard footsteps and looked over to see Morgan coming down the hallway. Her brow furrowed when she saw me, and she slowed her steps. “What the hell are you doing inside my apartment?”
I smirked. “You did tell me to come in.”
“Yeah, because I thought you were Gabe. Had I known it was you, I wouldn’t have.”
“I’m wounded,” I quipped. She rolled her eyes, and I took that moment to look at her.
She wore a pair of skinny jeans and a white tank top underneath a slouchy oversized cardigan that hung off one arm, revealing her bare shoulder peeking out from beneath her long brown hair.
It only fueled my thoughts further. I cleared my throat.
“Gabe had something come up last minute and all but begged me to drop this off for you.” I handed her the manila envelope for Liam.
“He said he was going to message you and let you know I was coming instead of him.”
She took the envelope and turned, slipping it inside what I assumed to be her work bag before looking at me again, casually folding her arms. “He might have, but I haven’t looked at my phone since I got home.” She gestured to where her phone was lying on the counter.
I nodded, holding her stare. I couldn’t help but notice how she seemed slightly on edge. It was subtle, but I saw it. And something in my gut told me I knew exactly why that was. I had a feeling that the same thoughts crossing my mind were crossing hers as well.
And I intended to test that theory.