Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Eden
“I wish there were two of me,” I say to Mrs. Burton. “Buffalo Eden and New York City Eden. The former could use a run right now. The latter wants a cocktail. Decisions. Decisions.”
The only response from her is a nudge of her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
Tough crowd.
I know I’m not Kurt Sufford, but you’d think by now she would have warmed up to me just a little bit.
She’s been in my office for the past two hours. We’re going over the finer details of a case that I told Kurt I’d work on.
He called Noelle this morning to reassure her that he’s fine. He had a blood pressure spike last night and ended up back in the hospital for observation.
He’s home now, resting and reading over every open case file.
I agreed to close out this one for him since the only issue left to settle is custody of two prized poodles.
I spent the afternoon working out a schedule that will give our client most weekdays and every second weekend with the pups.
Everyone, including the dogs, is happy with the arrangement.
She clears her throat, but that’s it. There are no words that follow that.
I’m going to let her off the hook because I need alone time and a martini. I wasn’t kidding when I told her that.
“You can go home, Mrs. Burton.”
That pops her head up. “I can?”
I shrug. “Yes. Please take the rest of the afternoon off.”
She slides forward on the leather chair she’s sitting in. “Did I do something wrong?”
I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. You’ve been nothing but helpful.”
She’s been a little off-putting, but that’s because I’m not Kurt and I know she’s worried about him. As soon as I got to work this morning, she asked me for an update on his condition.
She scratches the side of her neck. “Mr. Sufford doesn’t approve of leaving early.”
I’m an old family friend, so I know that Kurt has always offered a great deal of latitude to me. I’m not a regular employee. I’ve tried hard to never take advantage of that.
“I approve of it.” I smile across my desk at her. “I want you to take the rest of the day off.”
She’s on her feet as if she thinks I’ll blink my eyes and change my mind. “Maybe I’ll see if Mr. Sufford is up for a visit.”
It’s a testament to how fond she is of her boss. I saw the picture of Kurt, Thelma, Mrs. Burton, and a man I assume is Mr. Burton on her desk.
I push myself up from my chair, straightening the skirt of my red dress as I rise. “Thank you for all your help today.”
Her brows draw together. “There’s no need to thank me, dear. It’s my job.”
I smile.
Dear. It’s what my dad always called me. I miss it.
“I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Ms. Conrad.”
“Eden,” I say, even though I know she won’t call me that.
I’ve suggested it at least a dozen times since I got to Manhattan. She’s always called me Ms. Conrad.
“Thank you for the afternoon off, Eden.” A soft smile plays on her lips.
I nod.
Mission accomplished.
“If you wear that dress to court next week, I’ll lose the case.”
I laugh. I want to take a step closer and kiss him, but we’re in the lobby of Dylan’s office building. People are watching us as they pass us by. I assume some of them work for him.
“All it takes is a red dress to defeat you?”
“It’s what’s in the dress that I’m worried about.” He flashes me a smile. “I heard you hammered out a deal for shared custody of the Townsend poodles. That was a steep mountain to climb.”
“Good news travels fast in this town.” I tilt my head. “Who told you that? I just signed off on the agreement thirty minutes ago.”
“Betsy broke the good news to me.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Betsy?”
“I saw her at Palla on Fifth.” He holds up a large coffee cup. “She seemed extra chipper today.”
I stop him before he goes on. “Who is Betsy?”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shrug both shoulders. I’m completely and utterly lost. “I’m serious.”
He leans forward until he’s so close that his breath slides over my ear. “I’ll give you a clue, counselor.”
I pull back just a touch so I can look into his eyes. “What’s the clue?”
“It comes at a price.”
Of course, it does. “Is the price open for negotiation?”
The corners of his lips curve up. “Isn’t it always?”
I’m tempted to suggest that we take our negotiation to his bedroom, but I like the game we’re playing.
Amusement dances in his eyes. “I’m open to offers.”
I gaze down at the watch on my wrist. “I have thirty minutes right now. Do what you will to me in your office. Or I’ll do you. Your choice.”
His hand leaps to mine. “I’ll do you.”
I follow behind him as he leads me through the lobby toward the bank of elevators. “Who is Betsy? What’s the clue?”
He stabs the elevator call button three times. “Jesus, hurry the fuck up.”
I look around to see if anyone is noticing his haste and the growing bulge in his suit pants.
“Keep it together, Colt,” I whisper.
“I don’t have condoms in my office, so it’s fingers or mouth. You choose.” He glides his index finger over his bottom lip.
“Both,” I answer. “I want both.”
He looks me over from head-to-toe. “Done.”
The elevator doors pop open. We both step aside to let three people exit. Once we’re on board, along with two older men, he presses the button for the floor that houses his offices.
I tap Dylan on the shoulder, luring his gaze to meet mine.
A smile plays on his mouth as he cocks a dark brow in question.
“Who is Betsy?” I ask quietly.
“I said I’d give you a clue.” His eyes narrow. “You gave her the afternoon off.”
“Mrs. Burton,” I mutter to myself.
Why am I not surprised that he knows her first name?
“Betsy Burton. She’s Kurt’s assistant. I owe her a debt of gratitude.”
I already know the answer, but still, I ask the obvious question so that I can hear him say the words. “Why do you owe her?”
He leans so close to me that his full lips press against the shell of my ear. “Because I get a taste of you in the middle of my day.”
I close my eyes as a shiver runs through me. “Dylan.”
“Hold that thought.” His hand reaches behind me to cup my ass. “And that moan.”
The elevator dings its arrival on Dylan’s floor.
“I’m about to make you come.” His voice is barely audible, but I hear every syllable and feel his desire in the way his hand slides over my ass to the center of my back.
“This way, Ms. Conrad.” He directs me out of the elevator, shooting a look back over his shoulder at the men still on the lift. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, gentlemen. I know I will.”