His Temporary Assistant

“What happened? I thought you were in love and all that.”

“All that is correct. Until she ghosted me.” Static filled the line, and it sounded as if he dropped the phone. He came back on, sounding out of breath. “If I can’t find her, I’m catching a flight tonight.”

“You’re still looking? And um, just for curiosity’s sake, her name isn’t April, is it?”

That would be very, very bad if I wanted him to take my place in the law firm, and his new assistant had just fucked and ducked him.

I grasped the back of my neck. I did not want to think of my cool, competent assistant in that manner. I separated church and state so thoroughly that I’d barely even noticed she was a woman.

Didn’t work so well with Ryan though, huh?

That was an entirely different scenario. She’d only been a temp.

Even consumed with Bishop’s problem, I couldn’t help smiling like a fool. And now she was everything, assuming she ever stopped bartering adult booties and came back to me.

“No,” Bishop bit off.

My breath rushed out. “Thank God.”

More static. “Her name definitely wasn’t April. If what she told me was even her name. We only did first ones. Now I’m questioning everything.”

Momentary relief squelched.

“Okay, what did she look—”

A choppy voice on an intercom crackled across the line before Bishop swore. “Sorry, man, I have to go. We’ll reschedule that meeting in a few days. Whatever you need.”

“Sure, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry about this.”

Really sorry if my sneaking suspicion was right. But what were the odds?

Then again, I’d fallen in love in the course of a week with a complete stranger. A smart, funny, beautiful one who’d opened up the whole worl

d to me—both the logical one and the mystical.

There were a hell of a lot more forces at work than I could comprehend. All I could do was be grateful for them.

“Me too, Shaw.” Suddenly, he sounded so weary—and broken. I knew too well what that felt like. And I hated my buddy losing someone he’d found a connection with after all he‘d endured in the past.

We hung up.

I sat there for a while, just thinking. Wondering if there was some divine plan that made sense to someone at the controls, if such a being existed. I was more inclined to believe that now than I had in the recent past, that was for damn sure.

My phone buzzed a bit later.

Dex: Hey, assclown, did you forget me? I’m sitting here at the bar with two women who would be more than happy to soothe my sorrows at being stood up. And they can tie cherry stems with their nipples.

PMS: Is that even English?

Dex: Who cares? They’re hot and they have nipples and a willingness to let me enjoy them. So you have twenty minutes to get here or I’m going to let them take advantage of me.

PMS: I’m on my way. Don’t drink all the beer.

Dex: Not what I intended on sampling first, but fine.

I shook my head as I stuffed papers from the Donnelly case into my file folder. My brother was a horndog to the nth degree.

Hmm, maybe I should hand him Mary Donnelly to deal with. He’d said he could help out more. This divorce was only in the early stages, and Mary had warned me she had new “bombshell” allegations that were going to “fry that sucker.” Not exactly my preference, and Dex enjoyed the game of all of it far more than I did.