FOUR

Jace: Present Day

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THERE WAS NO COMPARISON between my old firm in Seattle to New York’s Walton & Associates. Instead of the hushed murmurs and ugly secrets that accompanied clients between meetings, there was an open and honest dialogue about cases the lawyers actually wanted to take. There were no unmarked envelopes stuffed under my door from the mob (yet), and the first large case I’d been assigned to handle was the type of case I went to law school to help fight: Big greedy corporation with endless power tactics versus small group of defenseless clients.

The cherry on top of my relocation to New York City, though, was the view from my office. It was utterly impeccable.

Every morning, I was treated to the sight of full red lips, mesmerizing green eyes, and the sexiest body I’d ever seen. Unfortunately, those sexy sites belonged to the same woman who ruined an amazing friendship from years ago. I couldn’t deny that time had treated her well, and I left my door open all day just to steal glances of her scowling at me whenever our eyes happened to meet.

It’d been a week since we met in Mr. Walton’s office and she’d gone out of her way to avoid speaking to me. I thought this was going to be a short phase and I was tempted to tell her to get the hell over it—that she was the one who left me. But there was a hint of pain in her eyes whenever we looked at each other, which made me realize that her nonchalant act was just a façade.

I was convinced I’d seen her at the bar nights ago—that the sexy woman causing a scene and saying “Hell no! No, no, no!” and rushing out was the same girl who cruelly rejected me years ago, but when I went after her, she was nowhere to be found.

Picking up my phone, I dialed the main secretary.

“Yes, Mr. Kennedy?” She answered on the first ring.

“Did Miss Ryan call in sick today?”

“No sir.”

“Did she call to say she was going to be late?”

“Not that I know of, sir. To my knowledge, she’s been here since seven o’clock.”

What? “Thank you.” I ended the call and walked across the hall, knocking on her door.

“You can come in!”

I twisted the doorknob and pushed it open. The second I stepped inside, she turned around from her bookshelf.

“You can get out.”

I smiled, looking at her tight green dress and grey heels. “You are aware that you’re responsible for working with me on this class action lawsuit, correct?” I asked. “And that I’m in charge of reviewing your work?”

“I’m perfectly aware of these facts, Mr. Kennedy. Are you aware that I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do for this case this week?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’ve completed the pre-opposition research, arranged the interviews, and booked travel for our research-interviews with the clients. Have I missed something?”

“What about the summary of our defense if they file a counter-suit?”

“I sent that to you yesterday.” She sat at her desk. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have other things I need to do.”

“You’re required to work on this case for a minimum of twenty-five hours a week, so you’re going to work on this case for twenty-five hours a week. And you’re also going to stop obstructing my goddamn view. Clear?”

“Only if you want us to bill the clients every time we daydream about their case.” She scoffed. “Since I’m a good lawyer who doesn’t falsely bill clients, I’d prefer if I only billed them for actual work. We don’t need to touch anything until next week.”

“If you were a good lawyer, you would know how to stay on top of things.” I dropped a file on her desk. “You would also know that this case is pro-bono, so that billing shit doesn’t apply. Nonetheless, some of our clients are requesting a meeting with us this month, so we’ll need to start preparing for it. How’s tonight sound?”

“Today sounds better.”

“Okay.” I rolled my eyes, stepping back. “What time would you like to start our meeting so we can get on the same page?”

“Two o’clock will work for me, Mr. Kennedy.”

“You can call me Jace.”

“I’ll leave that for your friends,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the library.”

“Fair enough.” I looked her up and down one last time and started to head back across the hall.

“Wait,” she said. “Question.”

“Yes?”

“Do you need me to get the secretary to show you how to operate the automatic blinds in your office so you can stop blaming me for obstructing your view?”

“There’s no need for that.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tapped the Walton Firm app, forcing my blinds to open. “The view I’m referring to is you. So, regardless of the fact that you still hate me, I’d appreciate it if you kept your door open.”

Her jaw dropped and her cheeks turned bright red, but the second I returned to my office, she slammed her door shut.