Chapter 7 Addison
SEVEN
ADDISON
Oh my God, this can’t be happening. I must have slipped in the shower and now I’m having coma nightmares brought on by my rare case of nerves about starting my new job.
Because there’s no way that of the three offers I had, I managed to accept the one that will make the man I fucked in an alley my boss.
His appearance is a complete one-eighty from the night I met him.
No visible piercings, eyeliner, or five o’clock shadow dusting his square jaw.
His jet-black hair is styled conservatively and the colorful artwork adorning his skin is hidden by a navy suit that looks custom tailored to mold to every line of his muscular frame and complement his piercing pale blue eyes.
Eyes that I thought had looked familiar in the bio picture on the firm’s website but dismissed the idea because the name under the picture said William R.
Reeves. And did I mention how different he looks?
Roman leans past me to shake Martin’s hand, and I get a whiff of his cologne, dark and spicy, and it triggers flashes of the night he took me in the shadows, against a brick wall, in the company of strangers.
“Ms. Paige?”
I blink the images away and realize Roman is staring at me expectantly with his arm extended to me.
Cursing my fair skin as a blush of heat creeps up my face, I firmly grasp his hand.
Electricity shoots through my palm, up to my shoulder, and finds its way to my nipples.
I try to release him, but he holds my hand a beat longer than necessary, sending the message that as my boss, he’ll be the one calling the shots here.
Just like he did in the alley.
For the last two months, Roman has played a starring role in every bean-flicking session I’ve had.
After we finally separated and put ourselves back together that night, I managed to affect my devil-may-care-but-Addison-doesn’t attitude and strolled back into the club like a woman on the hunt for contestant number two, even though the last thing I wanted was to have anything to do with anyone other than Ruthless.
Sex with him had been so surreal, so not-possible-in-my-universe, and yet, at the time, he’d made it seem as natural as breathing.
Once the heat of the moment passed and the weight of what we’d done sank in, it’d shaken my insides pretty damn good.
And the only recourse for when I’m unsure of myself is to make sure not a single soul in my aforementioned universe suspects it.
Hence, why I made sure to flirt and rub up against anything with a penis until I Ubered it home later that night.
As soon as Roman releases my hand, I hastily button my jacket to cover my wayward nipples, then take my seat at the large conference table.
The others follow suit, and I take a discreet, steadying breath.
Roman sits at the head, with me to his left.
Martin is next to me, and John is directly across from me to the right of Roman.
“So nice to see you again, Addison.” Roman’s voice is deep and smooth as silk. There isn’t a hint of suggestive undertone, and yet I can’t help but think his plain words are code for, “I remember what it feels like to be inside you.”
“Yes, it is.” I try to pull my mouth into the semblance of a genuine smile, but I feel how tight it is.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Martin frown as he studies me and Roman, and the remembered lust dissipates to make way for irritation.
Goddamn it. Roman should have pretended he didn’t know me.
Now Martin is probably jumping to the conclusion that I got on my knees to get this job, or at the very least got it because of some connection I have with one of the partners.
Nothing like losing all credibility the first day of my new finally-make-a-name-for-myself job.
“How is it you two know each other?” John asks.
This is my chance to salvage the story. Unfortunately, we end up speaking at the same time. “We met in court,” I say.
He says, “We have mutual friends.”
Shit. I clear my throat. “Yes, we met in court and then discovered we have mutual friends. Isn’t that right, Mr. Reeves?” Mental note: give Janey hell for not giving me more information—like a last name, a correct first name, and occupation—of the man I decided to go all crazy over.
Roman offers me a small grin and nods once. “That’s correct, Ms. Paige. It’s a small world.”
Somehow I manage to keep the strain out of my voice when I return his smile and say, “Sometimes a little too small.”
He narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly, and if I cared, I’d be wondering what he’s thinking, but since I don’t, I’m not.
Thankfully, John ushers us past The Roman and Addison Show and picks up where he left off earlier.
For the next half hour, Martin and I learn about our roles within the company and get briefed on a few of the cases we’ll be helping with over the coming weeks.
This is also when I learn that although “we’re a team” and “we’ll always support each other whenever needed,” I will mainly be working for Roman.
Because that’s par for the fucking course right now.
Next they’ll say anyone who doesn’t have their last name in the LLC has to work in the nude.
The meeting finally adjourns, and I follow Roman out of the conference room, through the break room, and into his office at the end of the hall.
I keep my head held high as I walk by him to stand in front of the large mahogany desk. I jump at the sound of the door shutting behind me.
“Well, isn’t this interesting.” He chuckles, not an ounce of humor dusting the dark tone, and crosses behind the desk to sit in his swanky leather chair.
Leaning back, he studies me for what seems like an eternity, acting every bit the predator to my prey.
There’s nothing I can do in this situation to change my role, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to fall over and expose my soft underbelly.
“The website says your name is William,” I say by way of explaining my part in why I’m here. Because obviously, if I’d known he was one of the partners, I wouldn’t have accepted.
A small grin slips onto his handsome, clean-shaven face. “William is my first name, after my father, but I’ve always gone by my middle name, Roman.”
“Ah.” I nod as though this tidbit of knowledge is the key to all of life’s conundrums. “That would’ve been good to know.”
Gesturing to one of the chairs, he says, “Please, Addison, have a seat.” My motions are stiff, but I do as he asks, placing my purse and briefcase on the floor next to me.
Once my hands are folded in my lap and I meet his steady gaze, he continues.
“Can I have Maggie get you anything? Something to drink, perhaps?”
“No, thank you,” I reply coolly. “But maybe you can tell me what I’m doing here.”
He arches a thick, black brow. “You interviewed for the job and accepted our offer of employment, did you not?”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. If you offered me this position because I’m friends with Jane, then I respectfully tender my resignation.”
“There’s no need for that. I can assure you, this has nothing to do with friendship of any kind.”
Nothing to do with friendship. I almost snort, but the ladylike manners ingrained in me thanks to my mother hold true.
I should have known from the minute I realized it was Roman.
I wasn’t chosen for my test scores or my brains or what I can offer to a senior attorney of this firm.
I was chosen for what I can offer to the thing in the senior attorney’s pants.
“So you thought it’d be fun to have a piece of ass around the office?
Thanks, but no thanks.” Grabbing my things, I get to my feet and start to cross the room, already fabricating my mental Roman voodoo doll.
“Stop.”
His commanding tone freezes me in the center of the room.
I tell myself to move, to keep walking. That freedom is only another dozen feet away.
But somehow Roman has intercepted my brain’s message to flee and replaced it with one of his own.
One that tells my body to hold still, to pool heat low in my belly and make my pulse race. And it’s unfair as hell.
Roman walks around to stand in front of me, feet braced apart, hands in his pockets.
His gaze levels me with its intensity, but I have no idea how to read him here.
In the club, it was different. I may not have been in a power position then, either, but at least I was on equal footing as one half of the single-and-horny equation. Now I have zero leverage—and I hate it.
“I should let you walk out that door, if for no other reason than to make my life easier,” he says, and I can’t help but feel a slight sting. “But I want to be clear about the situation, and then, if you still want to walk, that’ll be your decision.”
Raising my chin, I ask, “And what is it, exactly, that I should be clear on?”
“I had nothing to do with the hiring process. I never even saw the names of the applicants. John took care of everything, from putting out the ad to choosing interviewees to formally making offers. I was just as shocked to see you in that conference room as you were to see me. I just hid it better.”
“Oh…” I’m shocked for the second time in as many hours, and the vehemence coursing through me a moment ago quickly fades on a resigned sigh.
“I wish you’d also hidden the fact that we know each other.
It doesn’t matter what we say, Martin will believe I got this job for reasons other than merit alone. So will anyone else who finds out.”
“If Ramirez says anything of the kind, feel free to mention you’re aware his father is BFFs with John’s uncle.
Not that he was hired for any other reason than he deserves the job, same as you.
And as for anyone else, you’ll just have to prove them wrong.
You’re not afraid of a little challenge, are you, Addison? ”
“Not at all,” I say, raising a single brow. “I’d think of all people, you’d know that.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll have Maggie show you to your office and bring you the files you need to familiarize yourself with my cases.”
“One more thing. Don’t you think it’d be better if I work with John, all things considered?”
A frustrated exhale pushes from his lungs, and I’m starting to think that constantly bringing up The Night is grating on his nerves.
“No, Ms. Paige, I don’t. If you’re concerned that I’ll make advances on your person, I can assure you that won’t happen.
For one, I don’t make a habit of fucking my employees, and two, if I’d wanted to get you in my bed, I would have contacted you by now. ”
Ouch! Grated nerves or not, that was uncalled for, and now my inner bitch was at full attention. Don’t slap your boss, Addie. Do not slap your boss! “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that, Mr. Reeves. Almost as glad as I was relieved when you never contacted me. It’s always so awkward.”
“Are you saying that if I’d called, you would have turned me down?” It isn’t a true question, but rather a statement of doubt, colored by his irrational (okay, maybe a little rational) arrogance.
“Let me put it this way,” I say, injecting my tone with false sensitivity.
“My mother always taught me that I should try everything once, and then if I don’t like something…
” I let the obvious implication hang in the air between us and offer a shrug by way of apology.
“I’m sure you have plenty of things to catch up on this morning, so I’ll leave you to it and ask Maggie to help me get settled. Let me know when you want me.”
Yes, I meant that as a double entendre, and no, I don’t wait for him to respond before I brush past him and breeze out of his office, making sure to swing my ass all the way down the hall.