Chapter 15
NATHAN
Another four horrifically painful weeks have passed of working alongside Arianna, the woman who is hell-bent on making my life and my dick as hard as possible.
From her spellbinding perfume to the way she sashays around the place in her tight little dresses that I want to shred from her body. Every night I’ve jerked off in the shower, but the relief never feels like it’s enough.
It’s her I crave, every inch of her.
I told her she wouldn’t last the week, but now that I know her, I’ve learned just how stubborn she is.
She’s going the distance working for me, and I’ve been forced to watch her every move, and every man who walks by through the doorway of my office which has a direct view of her desk flirt with her.
How can you not like her? She’s captivating and beautiful.
Efficient.
Happy. Which irks me because she can barely bring herself to smile at me but with everyone else, she’s different. Herself, I think.
With me, she schools her emotions and retreats into herself.
Everyone loves her and for reasons I still can’t figure out, she’s the person everyone comes to for advice when she’s only worked here for a couple of months.
She knows everything about everyone, pays attention to the in-depth details about the cases I’m working on, what lawyers are representing who and why.
She’s memorized their court dates and knows when negotiations are taking place.
She even knows who Gloria had lunch with last Wednesday and when Keith from marketing is getting married.
She remembers the names of everyone’s spouses and children.
How is that even possible? And where has she been hiding for so long?
She’s fucking perfect.
Annoying.
But perfect.
Every day I arrive at the office to discover a coffee sitting on my desk, alongside a detailed schedule of tasks that need my urgent attention.
My desk is always cleared of any files and paperwork I may have left on it from the night before and for the first time ever, I never need to ask if all the required court documents are prepared, reviewed or filed electronically and physically, because I know they will already be done.
She’s magic.
I want to admit that having her in my work life has made work ten times easier for me since she started, but the truth is, I’m more frustrated than ever.
For the first time, I want someone I can’t have.
Nothing can happen between us.
I can’t shake her words that I have been replaying endlessly in my mind.
Which they shouldn’t, because I said them first.
Meant them then. Don’t mean them now.
“What’s with the frown?” Cole enters my office.
At the same time, Arianna’s chipper voice floats into the room like it does every goddamn day. “If you send me your court check-in list, I can chase them up for you.”
I glare at her through the open doorway.
Resting her phone between her ear and her shoulder, she continues the conversation with whoever is on the end of the phone, doing about a dozen tasks all at once.
“Does she ever fucking sleep?” I ask, annoyed that she runs this place like she owns it.
A vision of her and me running the company together plays out like a movie in my mind. As husband and wife.
What the fuck? Where did that come from?
“Only you can answer that.” Cole sits down on the sofa opposite my desk and gives me a hard stare before looking over his shoulder at Arianna and back at me again. “She did sleep that night at your place, right?”
“A little.” In between us fucking each other’s brains out.
“She’s got you rattled.”
“No, she doesn’t.” That’s a lie; my head is fucked.
“Yes, she does, and the sooner you admit it, the sooner we can have grouchy Nathan 1.0 back and not this extreme 2.0 version you’ve been lately. You were unbearable before, but now you’re?—”
“Needing to get your dick sucked to relieve all the sexual tension you two have.” Max interjects, walking into my office alongside Eli.
“Leave,” I bark. “All of you.” Idiots.
“I’m staying.” Eli dismisses me, and I think I’m going to pop a gasket any minute; he can raise my blood pressure in seconds. He further annoys me when he picks up the donut with multicolored sprinkles on top that Arianna left on my desk for me this morning and takes a bite out of it.
“Give me that.” I grab it out of his hand, making some of the topping drop off and scatter over my keyboard. “That’s mine.”
“Did Arianna buy it for you?” He scrunches his nose up and doesn’t let me reply. “Aw, isn’t that cute,” he says in a singsong voice that’s playful and exaggerated.
“Fuck off.” I hate it when my brothers tease me. “Isn’t there a bull somewhere you can wave a red flag at?”
Holding his hand to his heart, he pretends to be offended. “It’s going-home time, which you should be doing too and we’re heading to The Golden Spirit, are you coming?”
“Can’t.” I point at my screen. “I have client background checks to review, and I want to look at the previous cases filed against the airline she is suing.” I grab a tissue out of the box and wipe the sticky residue from my donut off my fingers.
Max lifts his head from the magazine he’s stuck his nose in and asks curiously, “What’s the case?”
“Vivienne Cavendish versus Regal Wings,” I reply, trying to remain cool. I haven’t seen that woman in a very, very long time and I’m surprised she wants me to represent her given our history.
“I thought she married that old fucker who owns the television channel, SFCTV?” Eli asks.
“She did, but he died recently during a private flight to Japan,” I state. “Nut allergy. The flight attendant failed to communicate the severity of his allergy to the crew, and they served him a stir fry meal where they used peanut oil.”
“Holy shit,” Cole exclaims in disbelief. “I remember seeing that on the news.”
“And she wants you to represent her?” Max asks, stepping into the conversation again.
I confirm with a nod. “Death caused by an in-flight incident and negligence. That’s what she’s suing the airline for and she’s asking for fifty million dollars.”
A descending whistle leaves Cole’s lips. “She’ll never get that.”
She won’t, but I know she needs it. Her deceased husband left her next to nothing and his children from his first marriage ensured she isn’t getting a cent more than was stated on their prenup.
“You underestimate me and my abilities.” I shake my finger at him.
Depending on how tomorrow goes, because I like to gauge my client’s ethics first in a face-to-face meeting, I was going to suggest we sue for more.
Although knowing Vivienne the way I do, her values aren’t that high, and she’s suing because she hasn’t got a dime to her name. Nothing more.
“Didn’t you fuck her?” Eli asks worriedly, clearly doubting if I should represent her, a thought that has already crossed my mind.
I sit forward in my seat, wanting to punch him in the face. “It was almost a decade ago, and will you keep your fucking voice down?” When my brothers follow my line of sight, they realize I don’t want Arianna overhearing that information, but we’re all met with a piercing glare.
She heard.
Asshole.
Tapping her fingers against the desk as if annoyed, she glares at me. Arianna gives the person she was on the phone with a curt farewell, slams the handset down, before removing herself from behind her desk, then she picks up a stack of files and storms off in the direction of the elevator.
“Interesting,” Eli pipes up.
Then Max. “Oh, yeah, bro, she heard that and is totally into you. She’s jealous.”
“Are you going to make a move on her?” Cole asks, and the heightening curiosity bounces between all three of my brothers.
“She’s my secretary.” As if that isn’t obvious.
Eli rolls his eyes. “Who you’ve already slept with. I think your rule about not dating staff has already been broken, don’t you?” He tilts his head to the side slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as if challenging me.
He’s right; my own law book of sorts was burnt to smithereens the minute she stepped inside this building.
Max adds, leaning over my desk, “And as you know, the clause in all of our employee contracts states, Should an employee wish to pursue a personal relationship with another employee, they must immediately notify their supervisor. ”
He quotes it verbatim as if he’s a walking encyclopedia.
Smart fucker.
Which he is; he wrote the contracts.
Cole chimes in, looking smugger than a fox in a henhouse.
“Unless your relationship interferes with her performance, then I see no reason why you can’t be together.
In fact, it might make you more pleasant and easier to work with.
And technically we have the final say, and we give you permission to date Arianna. ”
“I don’t date.” Well, that was until Arianna made me question everything about my non-existent life outside of work. I have no balance, very little fun, and no one to share my day with, which is something I have wanted to do every day since Arianna parked herself outside my office.
What I wouldn’t give to unpack my day and ask about hers over a glass of wine, in the bath, just the two of us.
This obsession I have with her is getting out of hand.
“Do you have a date for next Friday?” Max asks, bursting my dream bubble.
“Next Friday? What’s happening next Friday?” I immediately check my online calendar, and staring back at me on my computer monitor are the words I dread every year. The Connecting Kids Charity Ball.
I usually accept the invitation, secure a couple of tables for family and friends, then at the last minute make my apologies and use courtroom preparation as an excuse not to attend.
Out of guilt, I send a donation toward The Connecting Kids Foundation, a nonprofit dedicated to providing fostered children scholarships, mentorship, and resources to prepare them for life after foster care including housing and business startup grants.