“I know,” Michael said, a sly smile on his face. “We only play the game when we know we can win.”
Declan didn’t immediately respond, but the words lingered in the air like a taunt. Right. We only play the game when we know we can win. His father lived by those words. For years, Declan had too, and that was the hard part to swallow.
Seeing Zoe’s contempt for attorneys had bothered him. Perhaps it hit a sore spot. Or maybe it echoed his own feelings about who and what he’d become.
“We always win, right?”
Declan heard Marcus’s proclamation and snapped back to reality. “What?”
“We always win,” Michael repeated.
“Right,” Declan said, forcing a slight lift to his lips.
The objective was to win. Knowing this, having it drilled into his head all his life, Declan wondered why he couldn’t apply it to Zoe. Why was he contemplating going by her apartment when he knew damn well he didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with a woman in his life?
Shoving away the thought, Declan refocused on Marcus. “When’s the meeting?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Let me know how it goes,” he said, but he really didn’t care. It wasn’t his case and his mind was elsewhere, still on Zoe. Besides, he had a case he was trying to plead that he needed to deal with so he didn’t have to go to court. And Zoe. He needed to decide what to do about her. What the hell was wrong with him? Why wouldn’t he get Zoe out of his head?
His parents were proof that relationships and running a law firm didn’t mix. Not if you planned to run the firm and run it well. Here he was about to take over the control of the firm so his father could retire, get healthy, and hopefully make his mother happy, and he chose now to let a woman invade his thoughts.
Fate had thrown him bad timing, yet he couldn’t get Zoe out of his mind. He’d learned a long time ago never to ignore his gut. Deep down he’d known that client was guilty. He’d convinced himself it wasn’t the case, but his gut had been right. And deep down, he knew Zoe was special.
So, even though logic said he should walk away, he wasn’t so sure he could.
* * * * *
Zoe sat on her living room floor in pair of worn jean shorts and a tank top with a pint of cookie dough ice cream in front of her. Normally, she would be in the middle of her midnight blue oversized couch, but with today’s luck, she figured she’d spill stuff all over it. One thing life had taught her when she had bad junk happen, more followed.
Taking a big bite, she eyed the clock as the icy sweetness soothed her tongue. Her pizza was late, which did nothing for her bad mood. If it didn’t hurry and arrive, she’d be so full on ice cream she wouldn’t want it. Sex in the City played on her new flat-screen television. A present from her oldest brother for her thirty-second birthday. She would never have bought it for herself, though she had to admit she liked it. At present, Mr. Big was filling the screen with one of his messed-up excuses to leave Carrie single.
“Asshole,” Zoe said to the television, irritated that Mr. Big always walked away from the woman who loved him. Typical rich, arrogant male. Exactly why she fucked them and sent them away. Only Declan wasn’t gone from her mind, which added to her foul mood.
She shoved the spoon back into the ice cream and took another bite. By the time she finished this pint and a pizza, maybe she would feel better. Lucy had offered to come over and pig out with her. Pizza with best friends had always been their way of killing the blues. Only, Lucy had a hot husband who needed her attention. Zoe didn’t want to pull her friend into hell when she should be enjoying life.
Besides, in truth, Zoe knew nothing but talking to her father was going to make her feel better. Even then, she wasn’t so sure. But he’d been in meetings when she’d stopped by his office, as had her brothers. Convenient. Nobody wanted to talk to her.
She had calls in to all of them. Even her youngest one, Chris, who lived in Texas. He probably knew more than she did and he was in another state. That thought irritated her.
A knock sounded. “About time,” she mumbled and pushed to her feet. A few moments later, wallet in hand she opened the door. “How much?”
“Expecting someone else, I guess?”
Zoe’s mouth dropped open. Declan. He looked tired but sexy. He wore a button-down shirt, and his dark blue tie was loosened at the neck. His hair had a rumpled look as if he’d been running his hand through it. Fretting, perhaps. He’d clearly come straight from work. With her heart in her stomach, she tried to hide the shock and excitement she felt at his presence.