Chapter 10
Ben
Lottie’s was a quaint little diner about a block away from the Justice Center. Most of the courthouse staff came here for lunch as well as police officers and some of the construction crew that were working on the building two more blocks down. So it was crowded when he walked in with Victoria.
The way she stiffened when the hostess and a few colleagues—he presumed—spoke to her made him think she was probably rethinking their agreement. And the fact that they’d all been men wasn’t lost on him either. A punch of protectiveness and ownership landed in his gut and he tried to push it back.
Victoria wasn’t his woman, no matter how much he wanted her to be.
Yes, even after all these years, all the times she’d rejected him, he still wanted this woman.
Everything about her appealed to him, hell it called to him.
In the hours when they weren’t near and the moments like this, when she was just an arm’s length away, he felt drawn to her.
And after their kiss the other night, this thing between them wasn’t just undeniable, it was, just as he’d told her, inevitable.
They were led to a booth snuggled tightly between a long row of booths and the chatter of at least thirty people in the immediate area surrounding them. After ordering their drinks they were finally left alone with the menus and the silence that drifted between them.
“I usually have the hot pastrami on rye. How about you?” he asked by way of getting her to relax again.
This wasn’t the first time she’d seemed uncomfortable around him.
And call it arrogant or conceited, he thought that was because of their mutual attraction.
Victoria had decided from the start that she wasn’t going to like him, although she’d never actually told him why.
Past relationship drama? Something against men with money?
Or some other issue that probably didn’t relate directly to him, because he was certain he’d never personally done anything to offend her.
He’d never given a damn whether someone liked him in the past. Where women were concerned, either they clicked, or they didn’t.
He wasn’t one to chase or press the issue because he firmly believed that what was meant for him, would be his.
But with Victoria, he’d always wanted to know “why”.
Why had she seemed to despise him so vehemently?
Why couldn’t he figure her out? Why hadn’t they slept together after all this time, when it was so apparent—at least to him—that the attraction was palpable?
Well, the latter had been partially addressed the other night when she’d very succinctly acknowledged her attraction to him seconds before emphatically stating that she had no plans of ever sleeping with him.
That declaration was still volleying in his mind bruising his ego and perplexing him simultaneously.
Still, even with all that history between them, he told himself when he decided to stop by her office and take her to lunch, that he wasn’t going to play in that direction. He had some serious concerns about her case and her safety, that had to come before anything personal.
“I don’t like to eat a lot at lunch. Especially if I’m in trial,” she told him.
She kept looking at the menu. He figured she knew basically what was on there, because he did, and he didn’t work right up the street from the place.
Again, this was a part of getting her to relax.
His comments about the event at her house had made her nervous, rightfully so.
He didn’t want her walking the streets scared to the point of distraction.
If she was, then she wouldn’t be alert and whatever Vega was trying to pull would more than likely be successful if Victoria were off her game in any way.
“You’re not in trial right now,” he said. “The trial doesn’t start until next week. So you can splurge. How about having pastrami with me?”
“And have heartburn all afternoon, no thanks.” With those words came a little smile and he felt the tension in his shoulders relax a bit.
Yet, the strange hold she’d always had on his heart tightened.
He liked it so much better when she smiled.
Liked it when he made her smile. Loved when he imagined that smile and subsequent enjoyment, morphed into pleasure with her lids lowered, her mouth open as she whispered his name.
Her slim, toned body pliant beneath his.
His gaze fell to her slim fingers, gripping the laminated menu and he imagined how the pale pink polish she wore would look as she gripped the length of his dark-skinned dick.
“I think I’ll stick with soup,” she said, forcing him to swallow the erotic thoughts floating around in his head.
“Chicken,” he said, as much to himself as in response to her.
“No. French onion.”
He chuckled. “I was calling you a chicken for not having the same sandwich I am.”
She lowered her menu then and the right corner of her mouth lifted in a part smile, part smirk. “You are hilarious.”
“I’ve been told I have a great sense of humor,” he quipped and closed his menu, setting it to the side.
She arched a brow. “I’m sure you’ve been told a lot of things that have helped inflate your ego.”
The waitress came with their drinks and they gave their meal orders. Taking a sip of his soda, Ben sat back against the bench. “You have a very low opinion of me, don’t you?”
Victoria also took a sip of her drink, then folded her arms and rested them on the table. “You have to know about your reputation, Ben. Everybody has an opinion of you and the rest of the Donovan family, for that matter.”
“I don’t care about everybody’s opinion. I’m talking about yours. You’ve always thought low of me, even back in law school. Why is that?”
She shrugged one shoulder, the tip of a gold hoop earring bunching between her ear and the collar of her pale blue blouse. The color looked amazing on her as it made her complexion seem brighter, her eyes more poignant.
“In school I thought you were a spoiled rich boy, getting by on his looks and too lazy to use his brain,” she said as simply as if she’d just given the weather report.
“Ouch,” he replied and actually jerked back as if she’d slapped him. Of course, that was over-reacting, but he had to admit the words, coming from her, stung.
She held up a hand. “That was what I thought of you eight years ago.”
“And now that’s changed?” He certainly hoped it had.
Another kind of shrug this time with her head moving, her lips curling a bit at the ends. “Kind of,” she admitted reluctantly. “I know this is probably going to come back to bite me in the butt later, but you’re a phenomenal defense attorney.”
He smiled, couldn’t help it. Even though he sensed that admission had cost her greatly. “Well, thank you very much. You’re an excellent prosecutor.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
“And on a personal level you’re a very attractive woman. But I’m sure you already know that.”
“Thank you, just the same.” Ego had survived the “why” questions with her, he wasn’t even going to act like he wasn’t happy about that fact.
Then she sighed. “I thought we weren’t going to do this.”
He knew exactly what she was referring to and had just been about to remind himself the real reason he was here with her today. Still, what was between them seemed to have a mind of its own. “Do what? Get to know each other better? Who told you that?”
When her shoulders sagged slightly and she tilted her head, he wanted to reach across that table and grab her hand. To beg her to smile for him one more time.
“Ben,” she said his name on an exasperated sigh. “We’re colleagues.”
He wasn’t trying to hear that shit. “We’re a man and a woman. Can you deny that?”
She shook her head as the waitress picked that moment to arrive with their food and he accepted that the moment was probably lost. At least for now. For the first few minutes they ate in silence, then she spoke.
“Why throw tear gas through my window?” she asked using a napkin to wipe around her mouth.
“Scare tactic,” he replied in response to a question he’d asked himself repeatedly in the last few days.
“But how was I supposed to connect the incident to Vega? Nobody came inside to issue any type of threat. No note was left. It could’ve been anyone.” He brow furrowed as she looked to be considering that option again.
“Your neighbor said they saw a gray Lexus parked across the street from your house. Exactly seven minutes before the window was broken.” He let those words hang in the air a second, watched as she pondered them and nodded the moment, he could tell her thoughts shifted in the direction his were already in.
“No. He wouldn’t use the same car he used in the commission of a murder,” she said.
He nodded. “There are a couple of things I know about Vega, that wouldn’t take me into the fine area of attorney/client privilege, if he were still my client.
If you think I’m arrogant you haven’t seen anything yet.
He’s cocky as hell and walks around like he’s damned untouchable.
He believes he’s invincible so there’s no need to fear being caught. ”
She frowned. “He thinks he’s invincible because you keep getting him off whenever he commits a crime.”
The terseness of her words caught him off guard and he remained silent a moment because he probably deserved that shot, at least on some level. “I represented Vega in two cases. A drug case and this murder. Yes, I got him cleared of both. That’s my job.”
“That you do by choice without a second thought as to who you’re letting back out onto the streets to do whatever they want,” she snapped.
There was no doubt he’d touched a nerve with her.
The way not only her tone had changed, but her shoulders squared, eyes sharpened as if she were ready to argue this point was proof.
“Then it’s your job to make sure he goes to jail this time,” he said, resisting the urge to press further into what she was really irritated about.