Bought by the Boss

She drops a couple sugar cubes into her coffee and uses the small spoon to stir. “What exactly do you want to know?”

Everything, I want to say. I’m desperate to get inside this woman’s head. “What excites you?”

“I think you’ve already figured that out, don’t you?” She laughs, raising the mug to her lips.

“Yes, I’m well aware of which buttons of yours to push.” Desire flickers in her eyes, and I like the way she lights up.“What I mean is, what makes you happy? What is something that excites you in your life?”

“Passion excites me.”

“Explain.” I reach for my black coffee.

She sips her coffee then lowers her mug to the table. “It can be about anything really, but I love when people get passionate. I like being around the energy of

that. Whether it be at work, or an art show, or even sitting around talking to someone who is making something. When people get passionate, that gets me excited.”

Her answer surprises me. “Do you mean that even if you hated art, if someone else was passionate about it, then you’d enjoy it because they were passionate about it?”

“Exactly.” She smiles and sips her coffee before addressing me again. “It’s infectious, and I like being around people who love the life they are living. It reminds me to live the same.”

“An easy woman to please,” I note.

She grins. “Maybe.” Her gaze lifts overhead as another seagull soars by us before she’s addressing me again. “I like seeing the world through other people’s eyes, and what they find beautiful. There’s not much I wouldn’t do or wouldn’t see. But I need that person to be present while doing it with me, enjoying it as much as I am. Something real…authentic, you know?”

I nod. “In a world of fakeness and materialism, a little realness goes a long way with me, too.” That’s to the heart of what makes this woman stand out; she’s so damn real it’s breathtaking. “Do you know a lot of these passionate people?”

“Oh, you’d be surprise how few there are out there. I’ve only met a handful of people who truly know who they are and are true to themselves. Mallory is one of them. Jackson—” She cringes.

I chuckle softly. “You can speak about him. Jackson is in your life. I can handle that.”

“Can you?” she whispers.

I nod. “I can.”

She shrugs a little, brushing off the awkwardness surrounding Jackson. Awkwardness that Jackson put there and that I must clean up. “It took a while for me to get a good group of people in my circle and get rid of all the negativity,” she explains, “but my group of friends now…they don’t come any better.”

I consider what she’s said. Hearing all this only makes me appreciate her more. “The way you live is really quite amazing.”

She takes another sip of her coffee. “Why do you think that?”

“Because it’s beautiful. You’ve found a way to center yourself around what makes a person most happy. You fully support their passions. I can only imagine that inspires people to be better when they’re around you. To live to their full potential.” Maybe that’s why she’s been so unforgettable. Her happiness is based on something so pure, so real. I want to taste that.

She gives me a sweet smile. “What about you? What excites you?”

“I like to win,” I admit, even though I know it’s a two-edged sword. Before she can assume the worst of me, thinking that I’m only with her now because I wanted to beat Jackson, I add, “I like to face obstacles and find that special little thing that everyone is missing so that I come out on top.”

She cocks her head. “Meaning?”

“I mean that I like to play clean and win fairly in this cutthroat game of law. It’d be easy to get drawn into the dark side of this business. To make deals with the Devil for money, for fame.”

“You’ve never done that?”

“I’ve never needed to.” I lean back in my seat, gazing into the richness of her eyes. “I win, but not by playing dirty. I win by playing hard.”

The side of her mouth curves as she gives me a very long regard. “Well, color me surprised. I wouldn’t have expected Liam Maxwell to have such heart.”

“That’s because you’ve never given me the chance to show it to you.”

“I suppose that’s true.” She studies me again, eyes searching mine. “But how can I know this isn’t all an act to schmooze me?”