Chapter 2 #2
Ignoring him, I counter with, “Those kids deserve stability, and that is something only Stella can give them. I’m a divorce lawyer, Max, I’m not dead inside.
You know how compassionate I am.” I don’t tell Max, but Tate knows he’s the one in the wrong, and I’ve prepared him for the consequences.
Give Stella what she wants and needs, and he’ll still walk away with his penthouse along with several of his sports cars.
That’s all he needs. It’s all he asked for.
Oh, and his yacht. He wants to keep his baby.
Heartless bastard.
I watch Max as he eyes me suspiciously.
My conscience wins every time; that’s what makes me a great lawyer. I’m fair to everyone involved, and Max knows it.
Confidently, he sits straighter, squaring his shoulders. “My client and I appreciate your cooperation.”
“You are welcome. Now…” I close the file laid out in front of me, then lift my bag off the floor and stuff it inside. “…about the next meeting?”
“I’ll have Louise contact your secretary,” he replies, then adds, acting like he’s a fucking comedian, “That’s if you still have one.”
“One more job to do.” I sigh, suddenly dreading the thought of hiring a new one.
I’m surprised when Max offers, “I could find someone for you. Or why don’t you ask Joseph at reception,” he adds. “He knows everyone, and everyone knows him.”
“I can find someone myself, it’s fine,” I snap.
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I was only trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help.” My voice is sharper than I intended.
I’ve been doing just fine on my own for years.
Although if he’d offered me his assistance six months ago in helping me find a nanny, I would have welcomed it with open arms because that was the toughest decision of my life.
Hiring a nanny was not something I thought would be on my to-do list this year.
And it was the ultimate curveball. One I wasn’t prepared for.
Max raises an eyebrow, amused. “Wow. You need to work on accepting kindness without drawing blood.”
I bite back. “And you need to work on minding your own business.”
“That’s my cue to get the hell out of here,” he says as he scoots his seat back, grabbing his paperwork and laptop from the table. “Have a great fucking day, Ms. Bradshaw, and maybe sometime today you can find a way to loosen up. You make a mannequin look relaxed.”
“Well, at least I have things going on in my life to be stressed about.” If only he knew why I’m constantly wound tighter than a rusty bolt on a boat.
Clueless idiot. “I guess the only thing you need to worry about is who is going to keep your bed warm tonight.” I’m sure he has more names in his little black book than anyone I know.
At forty years old he’s still chasing tail and causing women’s panties to disintegrate with just one look.
The girls at my firm get themselves in a tizzy when Max is scheduled for meetings with me or fellow colleagues, appearing in their conversations more often than I’m happy with.
The blabbermouths speculate a lot. The hot topic always comes back to one thing… They assume that because he has a body to die for he could go all night.
Yeesh.
Although being fucked by a man, specifically Max, who knows what he’s doing, is something I know I would enjoy but have never had the pleasure, or displeasure, of experiencing.
But since Alfie entered my life, the dating game has sailed away from me, leaving me stranded on my own little island, waving it goodbye.
It’s long gone, and has disappeared beyond the horizon.
Being single sucks, but hey, Alfie is the only thing that’s important in my life right now. He’s my priority, and I love him in a way I can’t even begin to describe. That brown-eyed dumpling in a diaper has stolen my heart, and I pray to the powers that be that they don’t break it.
Shaking myself out of my side thoughts, I glare back at the man who is shooting me death stares.
He sneers. “Well, at least one of us will be warm tonight. Scorching hot, actually. Unlike yourself. Fuck.” He shivers, shaking his shoulders in exaggeration.
“Whoever shares your bed must get frostbite. You’re like a glacier with a fucking heartbeat, although I’m not even sure if you have a heart. ”
My fists clench so tight, they whiten at the knuckles around the handle of my workbag. Blood surges like wildfire through my veins, threatening to wipe out everything in its path as I fire back, “And anyone who sleeps with you must be brainless, or they lost a bet.”
Knowing he’s pushed all of my buttons this morning, a grin shapes his lips, and with that, he walks out of the boardroom with an air of smugness I hate without saying goodbye.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
During kickboxing classes at lunch, I’ll pretend it’s his face instead of the punching bag I’m pounding. That’ll make me feel so much better.
Sweeping my bag off the table, I head out the door, relieved that I don’t have to see Max for a few more weeks. It’s a pity, but also a blessing. If he just kept his mouth shut, he’d be the perfect man.
I walk into the reception area on the top floor of Hart Law and greet Tate with a bright smile.
“Tate,” I say, distracting him from his cell phone.
“Let’s grab a quick coffee to discuss what comes next.
” It’s probably the same thing Max is doing with Stella in his office right now.
Or fucking her on his desk. The latter is more than possible.
Although he did tell me earlier that he’s never slept with a client, and for once, I believe him.
“Great.” His whole face lights up as if I just suggested we go out on a date, something he asked me when I agreed to represent him.
To clarify, I say, “It’s just coffee. We need to discuss custody of the children.”
“Pity,” he says with a widening grin.
Presumptuous idiot.
Roll on going home time.