14. Savannah
Chapter 14
Savannah
“ D o you want breakfast?” Michael asks. “We should get something to eat before we leave.”
I am hungry. Ravenous. But I cannot tell Michael that because it means I would have to get the menu from his hand, and after yesterday, I don’t think I have the nerve to look at him.
Everything was fine until he went into the bathroom and sat there for an ungodly amount of time. If he had returned sooner, or perhaps if he said something. Either way, here we are in the awkward morning after, both thinking we never thought this would happen.
In the time it took, my brain to wean itself from the sex high, I got a text from Alice, saying that she heard about my case and asked if I needed her help in hiring a better attorney because it seemed like mine wasn’t doing anything for me.
I looked at the bathroom, and it dawned on me that I just had sex with my attorney. And I was the one who initiated it. Mortified, I got dressed quickly, wrote a note, and ran out of the room. I spent the night at the bar, drinking until I was sure Michael was asleep and I could return to the room.
I collapsed on the couch to wake up with him sitting on another chair, buried in his phone. And now, breakfast?
How can he act so calmly like nothing happened? We are still wearing our clothes from yesterday.
And he slept on the bed, too.
“Why are you so calm?” I blurt out after staring at him for an ungodly amount of time. “How could you be so…unbothered?” I add, seeing no other way out but to say how I feel.
“About what? Breakfast?”
I groan. “Not that. We had sex last night, didn’t we? I know I didn’t dream that.”
“Yes, we did,” he replies.
No sign of regret or acceptance. Right, I nod. This is Michael, who stays calm under pressure. But I can’t. I am the kind of person to say how or what I feel, or it will eat me alive.
“Aren’t you going to say anything about it, or are we to pretend that it never happened?”
He looks at me. “Which would you prefer?”
I throw my hands in the air, groaning. “That’s the thing with you. You know how to push my buttons. I asked you a question, so you have to answer that first.”
“Okay,” Michael shrugs. “It shouldn’t have happened. I am your attorney, and you are my client and my employee. Mixing business and pleasure is never the right choice. But you needed someone last night, and I decided to be that person, that is all.”
“We can easily put it behind us,” he assures me.
His reasoning makes so much sense that it infuriates me.
I snap my fingers.
That is what infuriates me. How he’s able to logically explain what happened last night while stripping it of every emotion, not that there was an acknowledgment of mutual attraction between us.
“You…” I grit my teeth as he turns to me, swallowing the rest of my complaint. “You’re right. You were useful last night, but it was a moment of weakness on my part. It won’t happen again. I don’t suppose I’m allowed to come to the office in the meantime?”
“You are not a lawyer,” he says. “You can come in and do your job.”
I shake my head, sighing. “Sure. I mean, you could have just said okay, but you went through that whole routine.” I let him know.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t want breakfast. I want to go home and get changed before I head to the office. I’m assuming you’ll do the same,” I add, picking up my bag.
Michael doesn’t say anything as I walk to the door, and for some reason, it rubs me the wrong way. I remind myself that he doesn’t owe me anything, much less a goodbye.
“Savannah.”
I stop—one foot out the door when he calls my name. I don’t turn until I hear his footsteps close by. Then I feel his jacket drape over my shoulders.
“There,” he says. “Your camisole…I don’t trust it, it might not make it. Also, make sure to have something to eat when you get home. You haven’t had anything since yesterday morning,” he gently adds.
My mind is left in a sea of confusion as I walk out the door. What exactly does Michael Stone want from me? One minute, he’s caring, and the next he acts like we are strangers. One day, he is ordering me to get out of his office, and the next, he is draping his jacket that smells just like him, over my shoulders.
The man needs to take a course on the implications of mixed signals. In the meantime, I have to get my shit together. Someone out there has it out for me, and if I don’t figure out who, it will be my head on the chopping block.
***
“Hey,” Clarissa waves her hand in front of my face, bringing me to attention. “Are you okay?”
It is the twentieth time she’s asked since I came into the office, and I know that she means well, but her questions only remind me that there is a noose hanging around my neck and she is distracting me from my work.
But I cannot tell her that because I need as many people on my side as possible, seeing as whispers have begun following me everywhere I go.
I nod. “Yeah, I am. Just trying to get some work done. Why?”
“Well, strange thing, but Mr. Stone has asked to see you.”
My eyebrows furrow.
When we just saw each other a couple of hours ago? What could he possibly want? Has he found something?
“I don’t know why, but I think it has something to do with…you know. With that. He must have heard about it. I hope you don’t get fired,” she says, sounding nervous.
“I know you didn’t do it, but he’s the founding partner, and he might care about his company more than an employee.”
I sigh.
“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, Clarissa, but it’s not working.”
“Oh. Sorry,” she shakes her head. “Let me know how it goes, okay?”
I nod, getting up.
“I will. Thank you for believing me.” I say plainly.
She smiles. “You’re a good person. It’s easy to see that someone has it out for you.”
The right intention, the wrong words.
I push it out of my mind, though, as I head out towards Michael’s office. On the way there, my heart picks up speed, pounding and thudding and ramming into my ears.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Brenda gives me a sympathy nod that lets me know she’s heard the news too and then gestures for me to go in. I knock once before entering.
Michael is seated at the edge of his desk, arms folded with a scowl on his face. His rolled-up sleeves, slightly rumpled shirt, and the leg crossed over the other should look casual, but it just screams sex to me.
Sex and Michael Stone.
I mean, it’s only natural since we had sex last night and slept in the same hotel room. We might have agreed that it won’t happen again, but you don’t just go from kissing another person passionately to acting like everything is peachy.
Especially when the other person is Michael Stone.
“You said you—”
He lifts a finger, stopping me, then points to the earpiece in his ear.
“Oh,” I mouth. “You’re on a call. I’ll just wait.”
I turn, heading for the couch facing a longer table to the left when he whistles. I turn around, and he points to the chair beside him.
“You,” I touch my chest, “want me to sit there?”
He nods.
“Oh…okay.”
Hesitatingly, I walk to the chair. He pulls it back just an inch, enough for me to sit down and push it in. I exhale slowly as catch the scent of him. His presence, close enough that I can touch him, swallows me whole.
It feels overwhelming but in a good way.
“I told you,” he says, “find it. I don’t care how but you need to get it done. Do your job, Gerald.”
“Or I’ll find someone who will. Understand?”
The anger in his voice doesn’t show on his face, and when he sees me looking at him, the corner of his lips tilt slightly.
“Do it,” he continues, and I look away. “Remember, you owe me.”
Then he removes the earpiece and tosses it on the table with a soft thud.
“Savannah,” he gives me his full attention, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah. I have something for you.”
I look at the hand on my shoulder, knowing that he did it out of habit.
“Something good?” I say hopeful.
He shrugs, standing up. “It depends. How good do you want the news to be? Do you want—” he shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to change the news. Eric Windsor was last seen in a bar two states from here three days ago.”
I lean forward so fast my chest almost hits the edge of the desk. Fortunately, my hands go before, bracing for impact. I wince at slight pain before shoving it away.
“Tell me. Where is he now?” I ask excitedly.
Michael shrugs. “I don’t know. That’s what I was handling when you walked in. That and the murder weapon.”
“The weapon?” I frown. “That was found at my house? Is there another one?”
He smiles. “You sound like someone with little faith.”
“Faith doesn’t have anything to do with this. You’re one of the best attorneys in the country. You know that,” I say with sarcasm.
Michael laughs.
“I was trying to lighten the mood. Do you know how gloomy you looked when you walked in here? I almost ended the call to ask if you’d been called to the station ,” he shakes his head.
“That’s beside the point. The thing is, we know where he was. We know that people spotted him leaving. I have to go down there and talk to a couple of people, but I thought I should update you.”
Or,” he stands and takes a couple of steps close to me. “Would you rather I keep you in the dark until I find something more concrete?”
I shake my head.
“No. This is good. Thank you.”
He smiles.
“You’re welcome. That’s all. I’ll head out now.”
“Can—can I come along?”
Michael picks up his bag and shoves a couple of documents and papers inside before turning to me.
“You want to come with me? Someone is bound to recognize you, you know. There’ll be whispers, and you’ll have to deal with being called a murderer.”
Truthfully, the thought makes me want to go to a corner and hide. I want to keep my face from the world while hoping that justice will prevail.
Then again…this is my life. If I don’t worry about it, who will? Nobody.
“I’ll be fine,” I say with conviction, hoping my fear isn’t showing through the cracks.
He smiles.
“I’ve said it before, you would have made a good lawyer.”
I shake my head. “Nope. You said I wouldn’t because I do a lot of things wrong. I can’t remember the things you said I did, but I know you would never endorse my career as an attorney.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind. You’re good. You’re smart, too. If you ever decide to become one, I’ll refer you to a good school and I’ll give you a job when you pass the Bar exam.”
I don’t know why he’s being so nice to me, and it’s very suspicious, but I shrug anyway.
“Okay, I might take you up on that one day.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you, though,” Michael says sternly. “If anyone wants to get to you, then they’ll have to go through me.”
A shot of pleasure runs through my body at the words, and I grin.
“Right. You’ll show them the way to a prison cell for messing with an attorney and his client.”
“Not only his client but a damn good paralegal.” He says and smiles.
Okay. That’s a lot.
If he keeps heaping on the compliments, my brain might get the wrong message, and I am not responsible for whatever I might do next.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” I say, scurrying off before he changes his mind.