13. Caleb
Caleb
" Y ou look like someone hit you with a tire iron." Bennett leans back in his desk chair, scotch in hand. "Twice. In the feelings."
Logan glances up from his laptop where he's still sorting through Luminous's security data. "He's been like this for the last twenty minutes. I've explained the same bypass vulnerability three times and he just kept staring at his phone like it holds the nuclear codes."
Bennett sips his scotch. "Work or Serena? I'm guessing Serena because I've never seen you this distracted by work."
I give him the finger, but he's not wrong.
I've been reading our text exchange so many times the words are burned into my retinas.
My pulse hasn't been normal since she said yes.
Every time I think about tonight, my chest gets tight and my hands start doing this ridiculous trembling thing I haven't experienced since taking the bar.
I make a noise halfway between a groan and a laugh. "She said yes," I admit.
Bennett raises an eyebrow. Even Logan looks up, his precise attention flickering for half a second from the code.
"To what?" Bennett asks.
"Another shot. Dinner. Tonight." The words stick in my throat, half choked by the gravity of it all. "She said she regrets not showing up that night. And she wants to try again."
"Fuck," Bennett says, almost reverently. "Forcing her to spend time with you paid off sooner than expected."
"I know." I release a slight laugh, my hand doing that twitchy tap-the-table thing. "I mean, I knew it'd happen. But I was expecting it'd take a few more dinners and maybe a little more tactical positioning."
"Classic overachiever," Bennett says, grinning. "You could have just held a boombox outside her window, Cusack-style."
I glare at him. "That movie isn't even about a lawyer."
He shrugs. "The principle stands."
"What plan are we even talking about?" Logan asks distractedly.
"The plan where this guy waived his fee for a deeply discounted rate of Quality Time," Bennett explains. "Don't you ever listen?"
Logan shrugs. "I do. But I don't play games like you two. Besides, I’m pretty sure making her date you for legal help is coercion. And can I please get confirmation on whether I'm allowed to backdoor the network from an overseas server or not?"
"It’s not coercion when it’s a choice. And you have my blessing to backdoor anything you like," I say, waving him off. "Just don't make it obvious enough to give Luminous a heads up. I'm betting one of their own people planted the log evidence."
Logan nods, hands already spidering over his keyboard like a concert pianist. "You want the password trail or the badge clone first?"
I consider. "Password. If they're running single sign-on, that's the fastest way to torpedo their entire theory."
He hums, pleased, and plunges back into the code. Bennett is just grinning at me over the rim of his glass.
"I'll say it one more time: don't fuck this up," Bennett says, and of course, he means Serena, not the case.
"I'm trying to avoid that," I say, but it comes out so dry that Bennett snorts and coughs into his scotch. "In fact, I'm going to get ahead of it tonight, if it kills me."
The door bursts open with enough force to rattle the glass walls.
"What the actual fuck?" Dominic stands in the doorway like an avenging angel in Tom Ford, hand clutched to his chest. "A secret meeting? Without me? In Bennett's office?" He staggers forward dramatically. "I'm wounded. Devastated. Our sacred brotherhood, shattered. I may never recover."
"It's not a secret meeting," I say.
"Then why wasn't I invited?" He stalks in, eyeing the scotch. "Logan's here. Logan doesn't even drink scotch."
"I drink scotch," Logan protests.
"You drink craft beer and shame," Dominic corrects, helping himself to Bennett's decanter. "So what are we discussing that's so important you'd exclude your most charming friend?"
"Caleb finally got Serena to agree to a do-over of their date," Bennett says, and I could murder him for the gleeful tone.
Dominic freezes mid-pour. "No fucking way. She actually responded to the hostage situation you call a payment plan?"
"It's not a hostage?—"
"It absolutely is," Logan interrupts without looking up. "You literally held her legal representation ransom for dates. That's textbook coercion."
"I offered it as a payment option and she chose it. That’s romantic," I argue.
"It's unethical," Dominic says, but he's grinning. "Also brilliant. Very you." He drops into the chair across from me and I roll my eyes. They can call it coercion all they want. I know the truth. She’s mine, and she knows it. "So what's the panic? Why do you look constipated?"
"He doesn't know how to act like a normal person," Bennett supplies helpfully. "Hasn't been on a real date since—when was it, Caleb? Law school?"
"Fuck off."
"No, no, he's got a point," Dominic says, warming to the topic. "You hook up. You never date. And now that I'm thinking about it, I don't remember the last time you even looked at another woman. From where I'm sitting, I'm pretty sure you've been celibate since the gala."
I feel heat creep up my neck. "That's none of your?—"
"Six months," Bennett announces, the traitor. "Six months of nothing but pining and what I can only assume is an aggressive relationship with his right hand."
"Jesus Christ, Bennett."
"Payback," he says simply. "For all the shit you gave me about Layla."
Dominic nearly chokes on his scotch. "Six months? Holy shit, your dick must be ready to file for separation. No wonder you look deranged."
"The Jergens stock must be through the roof," Bennett adds. "We should check if you qualify for a bulk discount at this point."
"I will literally throw you out that window."
"The wrist strain must be astronomical," Dominic continues. "We should get you one of those ergonomic?—"
"Don't you start," I point at Logan. "Unless you want us discussing how you turn into a stuttering teenager every time Audrey walks into a room."
Logan's ears go red. "I don't?—"
"You absolutely do," Bennett says. "Last week at Carmichael for the NeuroTech meeting, you walked into a glass door. That you could clearly see. Then apologized to it."
"She had her hair in those pigtails," Logan mutters. "It was fucking adorable."
"See? We all have our things," I say. "Can we please focus on the case?"
"What case?" Dominic says, just as there's a knock on the door.
"Enter," Bennett calls out, and Jenna strides in with her usual terrifying efficiency, carrying a stack of folders.
"Background checks," she announces, setting them on the table one by one.
"Serena Morgan, clean as a whistle—shocking no one.
Lisa Park, drowning in debt from her divorce and making questionable financial decisions.
Maya Bolton, recent cash deposits that don't match her salary and some interesting Google searches about offshore accounts.
James Washington, boring as unseasoned toast. And Brittany Adams is too new to have developed any interesting pathologies. "
"Who's your money on?" Bennett asks.
Jenna doesn't hesitate. "Lisa Park or Maya Bolton. If it's about money, it's Lisa. If it's about ambition, Maya. Both are plausible for both the leak and the frame job." She straightens, smoothing her already perfect skirt. "Will that be all?"
"For now," Bennett says. "Thanks, Jenna."
She nods and turns to leave, her heels clicking precisely on the floor.
"God, she's magnificent," Dominic sighs once the door closes. "Like an ice sculpture that could kill you with a spreadsheet. The way she just eviscerated those people's entire lives in thirty seconds? I think I'm in love."
"Don't even think about it," Bennett warns.
"Why not? She's single, I'm single?—"
"She's my assistant and she'd eat you alive."
"Promise?" Dominic grins. "I love a woman who could destroy me."
"You love anything in a skirt," Logan mutters.
"Not true. I'm very particular. I only like women who are completely unattainable or wildly inappropriate." He gestures at me. "Like Caleb here with his whole 'falling for the client' situation."
"She wasn't my client when I fell for her," I point out.
"Details." Dominic waves dismissively. "The point is, you're all sitting in Bennett's office plotting romance and revenge like we're in a fucking Shakespeare play."
"Why are we in my office, actually?" Bennett asks, looking at me.
I grimace. "Because if the other partners knew I was doing this much pro bono work for a woman I'm trying to sleep with, they'd have my balls in a vice."
"Trying to sleep with?" Dominic sets his empty glass on the table. "This is a lot of effort just to get your dick wet, my man."
"No, it's—" I run a hand through my hair. "It's more than that."
"Obviously," Logan says. "You don't pine for six months over someone you just want to fuck."
"Exactly," Bennett agrees. "Which is why you can't screw this up tonight."
"No pressure though," Dominic adds cheerfully. "Just your entire future happiness riding on one dinner."
"You're all assholes."
"Yes, but we're your assholes," Dominic says, pouring another finger of scotch and raising his glass. "To Caleb finally getting his shit together."
"To Serena not running away this time," Bennett adds.
"To me finding something illegal enough to destroy whoever framed her," Logan contributes.
They all look at me expectantly.
"To not fucking this up," I say finally, and we drink. Please God, don't let me fuck this up.
"Now," Dominic sets his glass back down, all business. "Let's discuss what you're wearing tonight. Because if you show up in another gray suit, I'm disowning you."
"Not all my suits are gray."
"All of your suits suck, though," he says. "Bennett, tell him."
"Don't look at me. Layla influences my wardrobe choices now."
"Whipped," Logan coughs.
"Happily," Bennett agrees.
“There is nothing wrong with my suits,” I insist, checking my watch.
Two hours until dinner. Two hours until I get her across from me again, close enough to touch. Two hours until I prove she’s mine. And if anyone or anything gets in the way this time, I’ll level the whole damn city.
"I should go," I say, standing.
"God, you want to impress her so badly it's almost cute," Dominic says. "You should make her a mixtape. Or write her a sonnet."
"Fuck off," I say, but the image of presenting Serena with either is so unhinged I almost want to do it just for the look on her face.
"Text if you need backup," Bennett adds.
"Or if you need someone to run interference," Logan offers. "I can crash the restaurant's system, create a distraction."
"Please don't commit cybercrimes on my behalf."
"I'm literally doing that right now," Logan says, gesturing to his computer. "This is felony-level hacking."
I shake my head, gathering my jacket and phone. "You're all insane."
"Go get her, tiger," Dominic calls. "And remember—confident but not cocky, intense but not scary, romantic but not creepy."
"So basically be nothing like himself," Bennett summarizes.
"Try not to mention the six months of celibacy," Logan adds without looking up. "Women find desperation unsexy."
I flip them off as I leave, but their laughter follows me all the way to the elevator. My hands are still shaking slightly as I press the button. Two hours. In two hours, I'll either fix everything or fuck it up permanently.
No pressure. Just the only woman I’ve ever wanted, and the last chance I’ll ever get to keep her.