Chapter 7
Max
Though her being extremely sexy was also on the con list. I tap the pen against the pad as my mind wanders. My head jolts up when I realize someone has been rapping on the door.
"Hey, Max, can we talk?" There's another loud knock on the door, and I see Kingston is standing there with a smirk on his face.
Remy is behind him with an amused expression on his face, as well.
I fold over the pages on the legal pad and drop the pen onto the desk.
The last thing I need is for these two to realize how conflicted I feel about hiring Lila.
"Sure. What is it?" I ask, ushering them in. I watch as Kingston looks around the room like he’s searching for something or someone and roll my eyes. "Is there something you're looking for?" I already know the answer.
"Yeah. Your new sexy, smart-ass assistant." Kingston winks as he looks over at Remington. "Dude, Max has lost the bet. He hired the kookiest—"
"She's not kooky," I say, defending Lila, even though she most certainly is the kookiest woman I've ever met in my life.
"And you shouldn't be calling her sexy." I glare at him for being unprofessional. It requires some mental gymnastics to convince myself that I’m not being hypocritical, but I pull it off.
"I suppose you’re right there. I don't know her like you do," Kingston says, shrugging, a glint in his eyes as he smirks, that knowing look annoying the shit out of me. "I mean, you certainly know her well enough to know she’s not as kooky as a one-eyed flamingo, right?”
“What’s your point, Kingston?”
“I’m just checking to see if you’re sure she's the right assistant for you." He grins. “Wouldn’t want her filing all your cases to the Court of Appeals or anything.”
"What do you mean, am I sure she's the right assistant for me?" I ignore the latter part of his comment. He’s trying to rile me up, but I won’t let him.
Kingston doesn’t take the bait. He and I were both on the debate team in college, and he knows better than to let banal side chatter derail him from his path.
"Just checking if you think she's going to last a month.
" He grins again in that cocky way that would have a lesser man ready to fight.
"Remember, she can't quit, and you can't fire her, or you lose.
" He counts off the pertinent clauses of the bet on his fingers, and I rue the day I ever let him convince me to go along with his immaturity. We’re far too old to be caught up in workplace shenanigans.
"She will last a lot longer than a month," I say dryly, though the thud in the back of my head makes me nervous. I wonder how much extra work I’m giving myself just to win this bet.
I wonder if I can hire a second assistant to take up the slack, but I know that would not be in the spirit of the bet.
"Guess that means you don't want to bang her, then?"
"Really, Kingston?" I glare at him with narrowed eyes. Is he interested in Lila? Is he checking to see if I’m interested in order to figure out if he can try and date her? The thought irritates me. "I'm a professional."
"You are a professional player. I also know it's been a long time since you've dipped your quill into any ink."
"Since I've what?" I stand up, adjust my tie, then tap my fingers against my upper thigh. I ignore Remy's laughter. Of course, he’s loving the exchange. He’s probably hoping we’ll create a makeshift ring and start throwing punches.
The man lives for drama. “What quill and ink? Did I go back in time and not know it? Am I the reincarnation of William Shakespeare? Double double, toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble.”
"You know what I'm saying, Macbeth."
"If you're trying to imply that it's been a long time since I've had sex, you're very mistaken.
" I run my fingers through my hair nonchalantly and sneer.
Marie would say that we were facing off like roosters, trying to show our dominance over each other.
She's too young to understand that sometimes men rile each other up without there being animosity or competition.
Kingston is my best friend, and I know he loves to tease me.
"No, I'm not trying to imply that it's been a long time since you've had sex. I'm trying to imply that it's been a long time since you've had sex with someone you've known for more than forty-eight hours."
I stare at him. "And your point is what, exactly?"
"My point being, you fuck for the night, and then you leave. You don't have any sort of lasting relationships. So, if you fuck your new assistant, I don't see her staying in the job very long." He snorts. "And then I win. I'm just saying I see several paths to a win for me."
"She's my assistant. I'm a professional. I have no interest in her like that. And I will very much prove to you that I can take anyone and make them great assistants. Even so-called kooky women." I cross my arms. "Which she is not." I hope.
"This I have to see."
"You will see, and then you will eat your words."
"I suppose I was wrong in assuming that you had the hots for her. I hope that you don't want to hook up with her because I'm pretty sure she won't be able to continue working with you if you subject her to your weekend special."
"Ah, the infamous Max Spector Special." Remy laughs as if he's at the greatest comedy show he's ever been to. Dickhead.
"I'm not going to hook up with my assistant," I say, my tone sharp with irritation, which only serves to make the two men grin even harder.
I glance down at my watch, then back at them.
"Is that all you guys came in here for? Because I have work to do.
" I snap my fingers. "I have money to make, billables to exceed.
The associates want to see their partners working as hard as them. "
"Because we don't work hard." Kingston rolls his steely gray-blue eyes and tousles his dark hair. The man could have been a model, and he knows it.
"Look, I don't even know what's going on right now." Remy holds his hands up. "Kingston told me that we all needed to have a conversation about something."
"What's the conversation about, Kingston? I have a call. Actually, I have several calls, and I have to file a motion to—"
"There's a point for us all being here. Remember Jack Whittington?" Kingston says, his tone suddenly serious.
I try to place the name. "Not really."
"I’m sure you do. He owns Jack's Shacks."
"It sounds vaguely familiar," I say as Remington nods. "Oh, wait, he's the guy that owns all those hotels, right? Isn't he like a billionaire?"
"Yeah, that's him. Well, Jack of Jack's Shacks is going through a divorce right now."
"And what's that got to do with us?" I ask, sighing as I pick up my phone. "I told you I have a call."
"He has a prenup in place," Kingston continues.
"Okay, and?"
"He doesn't think he should have to pay her the ten million that she is entitled to for the five years they were married because she cheated."
"Okay, and?"
"And if we get him a good deal with the wife, we get his Jack’s Shacks business. That's a ten-million-dollar retainer off the bat. Big money."
I stare at him for a couple of seconds and nod. "Okay, we’ll take the case and—"
"Here's the thing: He wants you."
"What do you mean, he wants me?”
“He’s heard you’re a shark in the courtroom.”
“But we don’t want this to go to court. I’m sure if he has a prenup in place, he can resolve this before then and—"
“Exactly,” Kingston cuts me off.
“Exactly, what?"
"He wants you to resolve it." Kingston shrugs. "There's a complication, but he wouldn't tell me what it is over the phone. He says he wants to tell you in person.”
“So you’re telling me that you want me to take this case?”
Kingston nods. “He’d be a big client, Max.”
“We’ve got plenty of big clients already. I don’t know this guy. You know how I feel about handling clients that I do not know the backstory on.”
“I’m telling you that he’s a good guy to get into business with.”
“Who’s going to be in charge of the Jack’s Shacks deals?” Because if there’s one thing I know about Kingston, it’s that he doesn’t give away big clients.
“We can figure that out later,” he says, and I grin.
“Fine. I’ll do it, but you owe me. Has anyone heard from Gabriel?” I ask, talking about our fourth partner. He’s not a named partner yet, but he doesn’t seem to care. In fact, Gabe seems to prefer not having his name on the office door, so to speak. He hasn’t been in the office for three weeks now.
“He’s still in the Caribbean somewhere, sailing.” Kingston shakes his head. “He should be back next week. He’s going to need a new assistant, as well."
I chuckle. "Good luck to him. Have you found your new assistant yet?" I ask Kingston, and he shakes his head.
"I was in HR earlier, and they said they're going to set up an interview for me in half an hour with some hopeful named Skye."
"Oh," I say, nodding, trying to withhold a grin.
"What? You know her?" His eyes narrow. "How do you know her?"
"I don't know her know her, but if it's the same Skye I'm thinking of, she came in with Lila."
"Lila, your new assistant?" He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head as he grimaces. "I might as well call HR right now because she is not about to get the job."
"You don't even know her."
"I know that if she's in any way affiliated or associated with Lila, she's not going to be a good assistant, and I think with my brain and not my balls." He winks at me.
"I've never thought with my balls."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I do think with my dick sometimes, but never my balls.
" I chuckle then, and we all laugh. A knock at the door has me looking up to see that Lila is standing there with wide eyes, a coffee in one hand and a brown bag in the other.
I can tell by the expression on her face that she heard the joke I just told about thinking with my dick.
"Yes, Lila, come in," I say, not sounding regretful or sorrowful at what she's heard, even though I don't want her to think I hired her because she makes my cock hard.