After All - Romancing Manhattan

“Starting a new job is always nerve-racking. Have you hired an assistant yet?”

“It’s on the list for this month.”

“Would you like me to weed through the résumés and schedule interviews for you?”

She stares at me for a full fifteen seconds before answering. “Holy cow, Nora, are you serious?”

“Of course, I’m happy to help. We’ll ease you in. And in the meantime, just let me know if you need anything.”

“You already have a full workload—”

“It’s fine,” I insist. “And temporary. I’m happy to help.”

“I owe you lunch.”

“I’ll collect.” I smile and turn to leave.

“Oh, Nora?”

“Yeah?”

“I know where everything is, and I think I have all the supplies I need, but I could use help figuring out the online scheduling.”

“No problem. I’ll stop by this afternoon while Carter’s in a meeting.”

“Thanks.”

I walk back to my own desk, nodding at colleagues as I make my way down the hall. In the employee break room, I hear two female voices, which isn’t out of the ordinary, but when I hear my name, I stop and listen.

“I mean, Nora’s been here forever. And I’m sure she’s great at her job, but you’ll never convince me that Carter’s kept her around this long for her scheduling skills. You know they’re fucking when no one else is around.”

“I don’t know, they never give off that vibe.” That’s Stephanie from payroll. The other voice is Mary from HR. Both have only been here for about a year.

“Well, of course not. There’s a no-frat policy here,” Mary continues. “But she literally handles everything for him. She even picks Gabby up from school sometimes.”

“She’s his assistant,” Stephanie says. “And honestly, I don’t think it’s any of our business.”

“If you two have time to stand in here and gossip about your coworkers, you don’t have enough work to do,” I say from the doorway, making them both jump and flush with embarrassment. “And if you have a problem with me, you can come to me to voice it.”

“No problem,” Mary says immediately and swallows hard. “I was just going back to my desk.”

She slips past me and hurries down the hall, and I turn to Stephanie and raise my eyebrows.

“She has a crush on Carter,” Stephanie says with a sigh. “And she’s catty about it.”

“That’s a nice way to put it.”

“I’m going back to work, too. I should have known better than to come down for a third cup of coffee. I don’t need that much caffeine.”

“Pour a fresh cup. Something tells me you need it.”

She shrugs. “I hate office gossip.”

“Me, too.”

Chapter Two

~Carter~

“Do you have a fever?” I mutter and rest my forehead on the closed door of my office. “Smooth, Carter. Real fucking smooth. I’ve clearly lost the charm I’m known for in the courtroom.”

I walk to my desk and fall into the chair, rubbing my lips in agitation. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why is this so hard?

I’ve always known that Nora’s great. I would be crippled without her here at the office. She’s an extension of me here, and usually knows what I need before I do.

But four months ago, after the encounter in the lounge where I almost kissed the hell out of her, my feelings toward her have changed.

Or, if I’m being honest, my eyes have opened.

She’s not just a fantastic assistant.

She’s a fascinating woman. Intelligent, funny, and so damn beautiful it’s hard to look at her. My fingers itch to plunge into her thick, blond hair. Her body, with luscious curves in all the right damn places, is a siren’s call, and with each day that passes, I’m finding it harder and harder to stay away.

Only two other people know how I feel. My best friends in the world, Quinn and Finn.

Finn’s out of the office today, so I pick up the phone and dial Quinn’s number.

“Yo,” he says, distracted.

“Come to my office, please.”

“On my way.”

We hang up and I stand to pace my office. The space is three times as big as my first apartment, and none of the furniture came from IKEA. No, we had an expensive firm come in and do the place up right.

I was afraid to sit on the leather couch situated in front of the fireplace for three months when I first moved in.

“What’s up?” Quinn asks as he saunters into my space and flops on the couch, one leg propped on the other. “Issues with the Sanduski case?”

“No, the Nora case,” I mutter and shove my hands in my pockets, the way I always do when I’m agitated.

“Did you finally ask her out?”

“No.”

“Carter, none of us are getting any younger,” Quinn says with a heavy sigh. “For the love of God, just ask the woman out to dinner.”

“There are several reasons that this is a bad idea,” I remind him and sit across from him, holding up a finger. “One, she’s my employee. Not only that, she’s been with me for almost ten years now. She’s been through pretty much every aspect of my career in New York. The death of Darcy. Everything. If I screw this up, we don’t just go our separate ways and chalk it up to dating experience.”