Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
L ila
I am playing with fire and I am definitely going to be burned. I cannot believe that Max and I haven’t kissed or killed each other yet.
I cannot believe that we only met each other this morning. I feel like I’ve known the man a lifetime.
And I might just be a little crazy because I have an overwhelming desire to feel his lips on mine.
I now understand what it is to be both drawn to someone and want to run away at the same time. Max confuses and enrages me in the most delicious of ways, and if he wasn’t my boss, I’d go all in to see what sort of crazy he could bring to my life. I've always thought a great love affair could take my acting and emotional vulnerability to the next level.
However, he is my boss. I need the paycheck more than I need oxygen, and I don’t really need the emotional entanglement of being with a man like Max. Though, the more I think about it, the more I think that Max could be the perfect man to break my heart. My acting could really go to the next level if I got involved with a man like him.
I peek at him on the other side of the elevator. He's staring at something on his phone and there's a slight frown on his face, that for once is not directed at me.
The elevator doors open and we step out into the lobby of what appears to be a penthouse apartment. It's luxurious to the point that I wouldn't be surprised if the King of England himself stepped out. The expansive floors are all shining white marble and there's a huge crystal chandelier glittering from the embossed ceiling. A tall man with prominent features, who I recognize from my research as Jack Whittington, stands there waiting for us. I'm taken aback by how tight his gray suit fits his body. The trousers look like they could have been let out a little bit because his bulge is there for all to see.
"Do my eyes deceive me or do you look like you could become my third wife," Jack asks in dulcet tones as he takes my hand and kisses my palm. My heart races as I stare at him. It's weird because I really don't find him attractive, but still I'm drawn to him. I guess that's the magic of men with money. My palm tingles as he reluctantly lets go of my hand and takes a step back. He hums something under his breath and I feel my uncomfortability monitor rising quickly.
I hear Max clear his throat and turn to look at him. He's frowning slightly as he steps forward with his hand held out. "I'm Max Spector. It's good to meet you, Jack. Or would you rather I call you, Mr. Whittington?" He stands in front of me so that he is now next to Jack and I feel like he's just become my shield. I wonder if he's done that on purpose or not. Is he being my knight in shining armor or just trying to cockblock me?
He's either sweet or a douchebag.
I need to stop thinking about him as anything other than my boss.
Note to self: This is real life, Lila. This is not a play. Or a role. Max Spector is not your leading man. This is not going to end up with me receiving a Golden Globe or an Oscar.
Those golden statues would be like my babies, if I ever won one.
The only golden baby I could possibly end up with would be puking all over me with chubby cheeks and irresistible blue eyes. And I’m not quite ready to be a mother. Not that Max is ready to be a father. Or that I’d even want him to be the father of my children.
I need to stop letting my imagination run away with me.
"Call me Jack." Jack gives me a smoldering smile, then turns to size up Max. He holds out his hand and gives it a solid shake. I watch as the two men take stock of each other. Jack nods as if he's impressed by what he sees. "I've heard good things about you."
"Really?" Max says, though there's no surprise in his tone. Suddenly, I want to Google Max and find out everything I can about him. Our interaction in the car had been taut with tension, and I'd almost felt like he was going to pull me onto his lap and devour me. Or maybe that had been wishful thinking. He’s gorgeous, and I’m drawn to him in ways that I've never been drawn to any other man before in my life.
I need a lobotomy.
"So, are you another one of the attorneys at the firm?" Jack turns back to me and looks me up and down. I feel his eyes on my legs and shiver slightly, but not from warmth and butterflies, but rather coldness. Jack's lookover is creepy. He’s making me feel like a pig in a butcher shop, hung upside down and skinned. I suddenly don’t find it a compliment that he thinks I could be wife number three.
I immediately feel sorry for his ex-wife. I don't care what she's done to him. I can tell that he deserves it. Not that I will tell Max my thoughts on his newest client. He’s most probably taken some sort of oath that makes him look out for his client, no matter how smarmy he is.
I'm definitely not going to tell him that Jack Whittington reminds me of a used snake oil salesman, dripping in his own product from head to toe.
“Or would you like to be my personal...attorney...” He chuckles and all I feel is distaste. His words don't even make sense.
I press my lips together so I don’t show him my emotions and have him demand Max fire me. "No, I'm not an attorney. Not even close. I'm Max's assistant, Lila," I say with a small embarrassed smile. "I'm just accompanying him so that I can take notes and ensure we give you the best representation possible." Very professional! Good one, Lila! "He is the best attorney in all of the?—"
"Great!" Jack cuts me off and moves closer, going around Max to get to me. His eyes shift downward again and I have the distinct feeling that he is trying to look down my shirt. What a pervert. If I wasn't here for a job, I'd slap him.
"If you were my assistant, I'd take you everywhere as well. All hours of the day and night." He licks his lips. "Only, if you were my assistant, I'd make sure that skirt was just a little bit shorter." He winks and blows me a kiss. "If you know what I mean."
I blush and look over at Max, whose lips are thinner than I’ve ever seen them. I wonder what he's thinking. He’s angry for sure, but I’m not sure if it’s at me for wearing the short skirt or Jack for pointing it out. I wonder if he regrets hiring me. I guess I really don't look appropriate for a professional job like this.
"Jack, I think you're making Lila uncomfortable." His voice is grim, and I wouldn’t be surprised if fire soared out of his mouth. "Let's you and I talk about your marriage and the dissolution process. Is there somewhere we can sit? I take it you have the signed prenuptial paperwork for me to review?"
"I do." Jack turns to him, his expression now serious. "There's a slight complication."
"I’ve heard." Max stares at him. "Are you going to tell me what that complication is?"
"My wife cheated on me." He stares at me and smiles that creepy smile again. "I have a feeling you wouldn't cheat on me. Would you, Lila?"
"I don't cheat," I say, swallowing hard. Why is this man asking me all these questions? I don't understand why he's focusing so much of his attention on me.
"Exactly. I feel like you're a good girl. I like good girls." He almost whispers, like some creep in a movie on Lifetime. I shiver slightly and look over at Max. His eyes look furious. I can tell that he's not happy with the conversation, but I don't want him to say something that would cause him to lose this potential client. I know that a client like Jack Whittington that's worth millions of dollars would be very valuable to any law firm.
"Why don't we focus on the matter at hand?" Max says, stepping forward and expertly guiding the conversation back to business. "My assistant, Lila, and I don't have very long to chat with you. We have some other appointments later today." This is the first I've heard about that, but I don't say anything.
"Appointments, eh?" Jack looks at Max with a knowing glance. "I'd have an appointment every afternoon with Lila if..."
"That's enough," Max says, shaking his head and clenching his fists. "You have a prenuptial agreement that states if your wife cheats, what happens?"
"She gets nothing," Jack says, shrugging, his smirk back on his face. "If she cheats, she gets nothing."
"So what's the complication then?" Max asks, frowning. "And why did you need me to help with this case?"
"Because I don't want to be embarrassed," Jack is annoyed as Max grabs my arm and moves me to the other side of him. "I don't want this to get out into the media. You understand? I have a company that has a very wholesome image."
"So what does your wife cheating have to do with your company's wholesome image? It's her that looks bad," I say, unable to stop myself from asking the question.
He stares at me for a couple of seconds then smirks. "The fact of the matter is, my wife and I attended a very exclusive club." He pauses. "And while I was only there to watch, it may not go down well that I was there in the first place," he says softly.
"An exclusive club?" I ask. "Like a nightclub?" I know I shouldn't be talking, and I can see Max frowning, but I can't stop myself.
"Something like that," he says, then looks over at Max. "I think you know what I mean."
Max stares at him for a couple of seconds and nods. "I think I do."
"So discretion is very important," Jack continues. "In fact, I need to ensure that this doesn't get out."
"Are you willing to pay your wife anything to ensure that that happens?" Max asks.
"I'm willing to give her a hundred thousand dollars." Jack licks his lips. "No more."
"A hundred thousand dollars," Max says, frowning slightly. "That's it?"
"She screwed two men." Jack shakes his head. "She can't get away with that." My eyes widen at his comment. What is going on here? I’m pretty sure that the exclusive club he mentioned is a sex club, but why had Jack gone if he wasn't going to partake? For some reason, I don’t believe that he'd only gone to watch, especially not after the way he'd just been talking about me.
"Well, I can definitely try to make a deal with your wife," Max says, nodding. "Is there anything else that I should know?"
Jack shakes his head. "No. I just need this done within the next two weeks."
"The next two weeks?" Max raises an eyebrow. "Is there a particular reason why it needs to be completed so quickly?"
"We have an IPO coming up." Jack says. "It's going to be launched in two weeks, and I don't need any bad publicity coming out. This is a deal that is worth billions of dollars."
"And the firm that's handling the IPO cannot handle the divorce?" Max asks, frowning slightly.
"I'm looking to change firms. If you can take care of this for me, then I know that you can be trusted to take care of the bigger matters as well."
Max nods and types something into his phone. He looks over at me for a couple of seconds. "Do you have all of that information, Lila?"
I just stare at him. I'm not sure what he's talking about or what I was meant to have written down. I assumed that he would tell me if he wanted me to take notes. I nod quickly. "I have all of it, sir." I say. And because I'm an idiot, I salute him. Jack raises an eyebrow and Max just shakes his head.
"She's new," he says, as if that explains it.
"Oh." Jack grins. "Well, if you're ever looking for a job, Lila…" He leans toward me. "I think I know someone who’s hiring." He licks his lips. "As long as you don't mind being on your back for…"
"I think that I have enough information," Max says, cutting him off with a frown. "Lila, we do have some more meetings this afternoon. Are you ready to go?"
"Sure, but…"
"Okay," he says, pulling his phone out without another thought. "I will tell Henry that we're ready." Max holds out his hand. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Whittington."
"You're done already?" Jack asks, frowning. He looks as confused as I feel. We've literally just arrived. I'd hoped to get to explore the penthouse. It’s not often I get to hobnob with the rich and famous. I was hoping to excuse myself and check out one of the restrooms and see if he had real gold faucets. I mean, I don't think he would, but I know really rich people buy really ostentatious home decor. "But?—"
"But nothing." Max's tone is polite, but firm. I feel a certain thrill at how he's taking charge of the situation. "I have the paperwork now and I will read it over. I understand the urgency of the deal you wish to make with your wife. I’ll see if I can do it. You're a busy man and so am I," Max says as he nods. "Nice to meet you. Come on, Lila." He gestures toward me and heads back to the front door. He holds it open for me and we walk out toward the elevator, which we ride down in silence. My heart is racing as I glance at him. Max looks furious and I'm not even sure why.
"Did you have to flirt with the man?" Max asks, shaking his head, and my jaw drops.
"What?" I stare at him in disbelief. "What are you talking about? I didn't flirt with him. I couldn't stand the jerk."
Max looks up at me. "You need to wear more appropriate attire tomorrow."
"Oh, so it's my fault that that pig basically asked me to sleep with him? I mean, that's my fault, right? Because I'm a woman and ooze sex and men can't be held accountable for being dickheads, right?"
"It's not your fault," Max says, shaking his head and holding up his hands. There's a chagrined look on his face as if he's embarrassed by what he's just said. I'm glad to see he's not doubling down on blaming me because I'd never be able to look past that disrespect, no matter how handsome he is. "He was totally inappropriate and I did not appreciate the way that he spoke to you. I apologize if any of my own words or actions came off that way earlier today. Now that I see it from the perspective of a bystander, I realize how inappropriate such comments are." I stare at him in surprise. That was not what I'd expected him to say. At all. Is the guy nice after all?
"It's fine," I say, offering him a sincere smile. "You and I had banter...this guy was just a dick."
Max's lips twitch. "He was a dick, wasn't he?"
"And if I'm being honest, I just don't trust him," I say quickly.
"What do you mean?" he asks as we get out of the elevator and walk toward the lobby to wait for Henry to pick us up.
"I just don't think someone like Jack Whittington is going to a sex club with his wife so that they can both watch. It just doesn't ring true to me. The type of man that's flirting with me the first time he meets me is not going to a sex club just to watch people experiment."
Max tilts his head to the side. "You may have a point there."
"So what are you going to do about it?" I ask, crossing my arms.
He stares at me blankly. "What do you mean what am I going to do about it?"
"I mean, if there's more to the story than what he's saying, then we should find out because it's not fair to Mrs. Whittington."
"Life is not about what's fair. The law is not about what's fair," he signals to Henry and we step forward. "The firm represents Jack Whittington and we will try to get him what he wants."
"But that just doesn't seem right." I say, frowning.
"But nothing," he says, opening the back door for me. I slide into the back of the car and offer Henry a small wave. "I'll go through the paperwork and I'll present an offer to Mrs. Whittington in the next few days. She either takes it or she doesn't." He opens the file that Jack gave him and I watch him going through papers and photos. His eyes widen slightly before he closes it.
"What? What is it that was in there?" I ask him. "Can I see?"
"There are photos," he says as he glances at me and shakes his head. "Compromising photos."
"Of Mrs. Whittington?" I raise my eyebrows.
"I assume so," he says, nodding. "She's definitely naked on a bed with two men, neither of whom are Jack." He shrugs. "I think this will be a fairly open and shut case."
"But, that's awful." I stare at him and shift closer to him. "It just seems so wrong."
He shrugs. "She obviously knew the man she was marrying. Maybe she shouldn't have cheated?"
I stare at him for a couple of seconds. "I think there's more to the story, Max."
"What more could there be?" he says, holding up the folder. The proof is in the pudding."
"I guess. But who took the photos?" I shrug. "I'm not an attorney, and this is my first day as a paralegal?—”
“Assistant,” he interrupts, but I ignore him.
“So obviously I'm not an expert, but it just doesn't ring true. Where did the photos come from? He just happened to decide to take photos of her banging two other men? I just don't think it's fair that Mrs. Whittington is only going to get a hundred grand when her husband is worth hundreds of millions. And maybe there is more to the story."
"Like what?" he asks.
"I don't know. He's a pig and a slime ball. I just don't feel like a slime ball like that should get away with paying next to nothing."
"You don't know that she's not one as well."
"True," I say. "But..." I pause.
"What is it?" he asks.
"Can I at least meet her, have a conversation with her, see what her side is?"
He stares at me for a couple of seconds and sighs deeply. "Why do you want to do that?"
"I'm not going to say that I'm with the law firm. I'm not going to say that I'm your assistant. I just want to see if there's more to the story."
"But it doesn't matter if..."
"Please, Max."
He sighs. "We're not therapists. We're not here to make things equal. We are here to get our client what he wants."
"It doesn't matter if we're therapists or not. I'm just curious if my instinct is correct. I could've just tried to find her and had a conversation with her without telling you. But you're my boss so I wanted to at least pass it by you first."
"Are you interested in being some sort of detective or something? Is that what you'd rather be doing instead of being my assistant?"
"No, I want to be an actress," I say. "But I also care about people. And I feel like I can sense good people and bad people, and Jack Whittington is not a good man. I just want to see what I think about Mrs. Whittington."
"You can do whatever you want to do. Just do not tell her anything about this case." He stares at me. "Do you understand?"
"Yes." I nod slowly.
"Good," he says. "So Lila, I'm curious about something now."
"Yes, Max?" I ask him, wondering if he thinks I may have been a detective in another life.
"What do your instincts say about me?" He looks at me as if he doesn't care about the answer, but for some reason I can sense that he's waiting on tenterhooks for whatever words pass my lips next.
"I think that you're outwardly arrogant," I say with a small smile as he smirks. "I think that your work comes first in your life."
"What gave that away?" he says with a chuckle, though his eyes are keen as they watch me.
"I think that you have a better sense of humor than you initially let on to most people." I grin as he grunts. "And I think that maybe you're not as horrible as I thought a few hours ago."
"So you're saying you don't think I'm a slime ball?" He's grinning now and his face is transformed. It's like a light has come on inside of him and the warmth and humor radiating from him has my heart racing. And not just because he's handsome, but because there's a real connection between us. He's looking at me like I'm the only woman in the world and it makes me feel like dancing. It's probably all in my head, but I like how this feels.
The earthy side of me now thinks that he and I met for a reason.
The earthy side of me feels like maybe this man has something to teach me.
But that could just be my hormones and the lack of good sex speaking.
It's funny how sometimes we try to find meaning in any and every exchange we have to give ourselves a purpose or reason to believe in something.
"Oh, I didn't say that," I say with a grin as I try to ignore the feel of his hard warm thigh against me. He's leaning toward me now and I can feel the heat emanating from his body.
"So you do think I'm a slime ball?"
"No," I say honestly. "I don't."
"Even though I flirted with you and you thought I was trying to offer you a million dollars for sex?"
"Oh my God. Let's agree to never bring that up again. I don't really think you were offering me money for sex." I lick my lips nervously. "Let's be real. You don't have to offer anyone money for sex. You're a very good-looking man."
"Thank you. I'm glad that you realize that."
"Uh-huh," I say, rolling my eyes.
"But don't sell yourself short, Lila. You're a very beautiful woman," he says softly. "And if I was the sort of man to offer money for sex, I'd give you way more than a million dollars."
I stare at him in shock, my heart racing. "What?"
"If I were to offer you money for one night," he says softly, grabbing my hand and running a finger down my palm. "I'd offer you a billion dollars because I'd want to change your life as much as you were about to change mine."
I stare at him in shock, wondering if I just heard what I think I heard. Does Max like me? Is he as attracted to me as I am to him? Is this his way of saying that?
He bursts out laughing then, and I frown as he pulls back and runs his fingers through his hair. "You really do need to stop watching so many movies." He smirks. "That was way too easy."
"What?" I blink at him. "That was an act?"
"Yes, darling," he says. "I guess you're not the only actor in this car after all."
"You're such a jackass," I mumble under my breath and look out of the window. I'm mortified that I thought for a second that he was being genuine and sincere. I'm absolutely cringing inside that I thought he was interested in me.
I need to get a life.
I've only known this man a day and I already know that it's not going to take long for him to drive me crazy. I already know that I cannot stay in his employ for too long because the simple fact of the matter is, Max Spector is the most handsome man I've ever met in my life, while also being the most annoying.
I don't know if I will be able to survive working with him day in and day out for a significant amount of time. However, as I think about my empty studio apartment—the lack of furniture and my empty fridge—I know I need to get as many paychecks as possible because I don't want to starve or live on a blowup mattress forever.
I have to change my mindset. I'll stay at this job for the money and the work experience. Everything I learn will help me to become a better actress. I just need to think of it as real-life research for a role. As long as I compartmentalize the emotions Max brings out in me, I’ll be okay.
At least that was what I hope.