Chapter 15
Ever
Copy, punch, click, and repeat. Binders covered every available square inch of the conference room table.
Binders containing direct exams; binders containing deposition transcripts; binders containing trial exhibits.
A metric fuckton of binders and me with a hole punch, and a hand riddled with blisters from an entire day of making copies and punching holes in them to fill said binders because I loved my fucking job and the firm was too cheap to spring for a copy machine that could punch the holes for us.
“Knock. Knock.” Shelby stood in the doorway with her coat on. “It’s after five. Are you coming or staying late again?”
I sighed, knowing it was going to be another late night.
Trial preparation from a paralegal’s standpoint was more time-consuming than the actual trial itself.
“I’ve got to stay and at least get these binders done before I can think about going home.
What about you? Are you going to see that guy you told me about? ”
Shelby nodded, smiling. “Yeah, he wants to try out Fries and Pies. He’s super excited because they apparently don’t have one down south where he’s from.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it seems to be a Midwest thing. There definitely wasn’t one where I used to live. You two seem to be getting serious if he’s already up here and staying with you.”
“We’re taking it one day at a time, you know. He went through a nasty breakup not too long ago, so he’s wanting to move slowly.”
“That’s understandable. What’s his name again?”
“James. I call him Jimmy. It fits him better.”
“Well, Jimmy seems to be making you happy. I haven’t seen you genuinely smile like this in a while.”
“Yeah, he does.” I looked up at Shelby. Her usually animated eyes were fixated outside the conference room windows, staring off into space.
“I’m happy for you, Shelby. I hope it all works out.”
She nodded, her faraway gaze floating back down to reality. “Thank you. I hope it does.”
“Have a good night and put in an extra order of fries for me, or better yet, get an alcoholic beverage and knock it back in my honor.”
“I think I can manage that.” Shelby took a step forward as though she’d intended to start plodding back down the hallway but stopped herself short. “Ever—”
“Yeah.”
She looked at me as though she was oddly conflicted about something, opening her mouth to speak, but then deciding against what she was originally going to tell me. “Don’t stay too late.”
I’m sure the expression on my face must have screamed what the hell, because never in the history of ever had Shelby given two-tenths of twelve fucks about my work schedule. “That’s entirely out of my hands at this point.” I sighed. “See you later.”
Officially alone, I closed the last binder, checking my emails on my phone and groaning at all the non-trial-related work that’d had the audacity to pile up while I’d been otherwise indisposed.
If there’s one thing I could be certain of, I wasn’t going to be let go due to lack of clients.
A notification on my phone drew my attention to the app for the security system.
Had V shown up at my house? Even as pissed as I still was at him, I rushed to click on the app to see not V but a package being left at my door to be opened whenever I made it back there again.
I’m not opening whatever it is you sent me until you show your face.
I hated myself for staring at my phone instead of putting it down and even more for the ache I felt between my legs when those three telltale dots jumped on my screen. Apparently, my vagina hadn’t gotten the memo that we weren’t too pleased with V at the moment.
Oh, but I think you will, though.
Keep that cocky attitude, and I may just throw it in the trash.
It would be a shame if you did, considering it would be a way to take me with you wherever you go.
Consider my curiosity piqued. Did he send me an article of clothing as a clue to his identity, or a body part?
Maybe a lock of hair or a vial of blood, like the celebrity couple I’d read about.
Oh, shit. What if he sent me a custom-made dildo formed in the likeness of his penis?
I would never, ever leave my house again if that was the case.
Why would you think that would appeal to me when I already take you everywhere I go?
Not everywhere, little bird. I’m not with you right now, but I could be.
What in God’s green fucking acres was in this box? He’d worn me down, and he knew it. The second I walked through my front door, I was going to tear into it in much the same way I annihilated the box of doughnuts that was left in our break room every Friday morning.
I beg to differ that you aren’t still with me right now, considering how much of you you left inside of me.
I watched the three dots appear and disappear, only to appear once again, maintaining the same cadence until V finally managed to type out his response.
Ever…
That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?
Trust me, I’d give you more if I were able to right now.
I’m sure you would, and as much as I would like to be bent over this conference room table, I must return to work.
You’re at work?
You must have let your stalker guard down. Yes, I’m here.
Why so late?
Because we’re getting ready for a trial, and that coworker of mine you defended didn’t feel the need to come into work today to help me.
I set my phone down on the table, glancing back and forth between the screen as I started packing the binders into banker’s boxes, so focused on awaiting V’s response that the sudden knock on the conference room door startled me.
“Shit.” I jumped. In the doorway, unexpectedly, stood Loche. “Where the hell have you been all day?”
There was something primal in his eyes. Something hiding behind them.
I’d never seen him look at me as intensely as he was looking at me now.
His gaze raked down my body unapologetically as though he could mark me as his territory with his eyes.
A month ago, I would have had to hold myself back from introducing my knee to his testicles.
But now, only four weeks later, and him a tad less of an asshole, I didn’t exactly hate the way he was looking at me.
“I was sick this morning, so I decided to work from home as opposed to infecting the entire office.” He leaned against the door frame, his eyes wandering to the conference room table.
“Oh. I guess that’s excusable.”
He nodded. “That’s what I thought, too.” For someone who’d been sick, he’d cleaned up nicely.
His dark wash jeans hugged his thighs and calves and weren’t something he ever wore to the office, but I wouldn’t be upset if he did.
His top half was clad in a white t-shirt under a black leather jacket, together creating an ensemble that was straight out of a men’s cologne ad from one of the many teen magazines I used to read.
“You were busy today. Skip lunch again?”
“What do you mean by again? Do you routinely keep track of how often I do and don’t go to lunch?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I sighed. “Yes, Loche. As a matter of fact, I did skip my lunch to get more work done. Don’t worry, I won’t put the extra time on my time sheet.”
“You most certainly will. You work harder than anyone else in this firm, don’t let them not compensate you for it.”
“Says the man who’s related to one of the firm’s partners and can choose to come into work whenever he feels like it and still get paid.”
Loche stiffened. “You think you know so much about me.” He paused, running a hand through his shaggy, dark hair as he turned his head.
Was that a bruise on the side of his face?
I squinted, trying to get a look at it, but he turned his head again, blocking what appeared to be the abrasion-like discoloration from view.
I had to be seeing things. I’d just worked twelve hours, my eyes were tired, or the lighting was bad because there was no way Loche had a bruise right where V had been hit in the face.
“You’re wrong about me, Ever. In life, just as in law, first impressions can be deceiving. I hope you’ll be willing to give me a chance to prove that to you someday.”
I leaned against the table while I finished packing the last box, glancing up at him after securing the lid. He seemed so sincere that it took me aback. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“But it appears that I do.”
“Why do you care so much about what I think of you?”
“For a few reasons. One, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together very shortly, and two, despite what you may think of me, I think highly of you.
We’ve been working together for over a year, and I’ve hardly gotten to know you.
You, likewise, have hardly gotten to know me, so I want to change that.
Ask me something, anything, and I’ll do my best to answer it. ”
“That’s dangerous territory.” I grabbed my cardigan from the back of the chair I’d been sitting in for the better part of seven hours and shrugged it on, inspecting his lumbering figure in the doorway.
“Do you always dress like you’re about to take the stage in some cheesy smalltown revival of Grease when you’re not in the office? ”
Loche smiled, revealing a dimple on his left cheek. “Only on special occasions.”
“Oh, so you have a hot date tonight?”
“If by hot date you mean working on trial subpoenas and redacting depositions, then yes. Scorching hot. Are you jealous, Nevermore?”
“In your dreams, Greene.” I rolled my eyes, retrieving my phone from the table to check to see if V had responded to my last text. He hadn’t.
“Ah, yes. I forgot. You have a boyfriend, right?”
I purposely kept my eyes on the screen, not wanting to make eye contact with him. Loche would for sure see through my bullshit. He always saw through everyone’s bullshit. “I don’t know. I might. I might not. We haven’t thrown a label on it yet.”
“What do you want that label to be?”