That was better for a while, but after time, the work became rote, and it was no longer about the job but about a steady paycheck. She'd realized almost too late how much she wanted to be out there handling actual cases. Writing detailed briefs that argued real law. Building a practice and making a reputation.
Fortunately, Easton wanted the same thing.
Unfortunately, she'd lost time--most attorneys her age who went out on their own already had a handful of clients in their pocket. Which meant that if she wanted to build the firm up into something successful, she had to put all her focus and energy into this firm. Into making certain that she and Easton succeeded.
"I know you're not bailing," Easton assured her. "But we need to lock this down. If we take too much time, someone will snatch it out from under us. I got first look because the guy who handles leasing for this building owes me a favor. But he'll only hold it open for us to Monday morning. After that, we won't be the only interested parties. Besides, the sooner we commit to this place, the sooner we can start meeting with clients."
Hannah turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. And, yes, coveting this suite. "This place will definitely wow them." The space had previously housed a defunct law firm, and they had even left their law library behind, a spacious room filled with all the necessary resources, nestled in the interior of the building.
"And you can have your pick of corner offices," Easton said. "Capitol or river view. No drawing straws."
"Really?" She shot a quick glance at her friend.
"Of course you get first dibs. Without you, this wouldn't be happening. "
Her stomach twisted. Because the truth was that even with her it might not be happening. Not unless she could come up with her share of the money.
She drew in a breath and was gathering the courage to tell Easton the hard, cold truth, when Selma threw her hands out to her sides and twirled her way over to Easton in that vivacious Selma way she had. "Well, I love it. But darling, can you afford it?"
"We," he said, smiling at Hannah as he brushed his thumb over Selma's lips and pulled her close. "And of course we can. Yes?"
"Absolutely," Hannah said, aiming her smile at both of them and taking a great deal of pride in the fact that her voice didn't crack. Because, dammit, she'd figure out a way. "We'd be crazy not to grab it," she added, as much to convey her enthusiasm as to convince herself. Because it really would be nuts to walk away from such a fabulous deal. Especially when the only tiny stumbling block was Hannah's own lack of funds.
At least the lease had a two-week escape clause, or so Easton had said. Which meant that she had two weeks to either get the money or fess up to Easton.
Surely she could get the money. It wasn't as if she was entirely out of options, after all. There was always her mother and the money that Mom used to call The Hannah Fund. It was out of reach now, true. But maybe, just maybe, she could change that.
She was pondering how to approach her mom--and, more importantly, her stepfather--when she felt the weight of Selma's eyes on her. She glanced up, only to see a glimmer of curiosity cross Selma's face before she turned to Easton and gave him a little shove. "Okay, mister, we're all done here. Go. Do manly things."
His eyes widened, and his lips twitched with obvious amusement. "Trying to get rid of me?"
"Um, duh. Hannah and I have plans," she announced, which was total news to Hannah. "We're off to drink cocktails and ogle hot men. Or women," she added with a glance toward Hannah. "If you'd rather."
Hannah lifted a shoulder, forcing herself not to smile. "Either way, I'm good."
Selma laughed, as Easton cocked one brow. "Just ogling?"
"Don't worry," Selma assured him. "With other men, I only look." She pressed herself against him, her arms going around his waist. "But sometimes that makes the touching later all the more fun. And in case you need it, here's a preview. So you can remember why it's me you come home to." She kissed him--hot and deep and so slow that Hannah was starting to feel like she'd fallen down the rabbit hall into an NC-17 movie.
But when Selma grabbed Easton's ass, it was time to cut the show short. "Okay, you two. Get a room."
As Selma backed away, her expression smug, Easton held his hands out to his sides and indicated the huge, empty reception area. "A room?" he repeated. "Isn't that why we're here?"
Hannah parked one hand on her hip and cocked her head. "There will be no wild sex on the desks in our law office. Especially since one of us doesn't have anyone to have wild sex with."
On top of everything else, Hannah had been single--and sadly hook-up free--for well over six months now.
Sadly, that state of affairs showed no signs of changing any time soon. A particularly unfortunate fact since an upstanding boyfriend with a good job and decent manners might be the key to solving her current financial crisis.
And, honestly, she missed the fringe benefits, too.
Chapter Two
"Over six months?" Selma looked so shocked that Hannah almost sank off the stool so she could hide under the long oak bar at The Fix on Sixth. The local Austin bar was not only full of atmosphere, but it also happened to be conveniently located just a few blocks down from what would soon--hopefully, maybe--be Hannah's brand new office.
Coming to the bar had been Selma's idea. Not only did she patronize the place, but Selma's company, Austin Free-Tail Distillery, supplied a variety of whiskeys to the popular bar. Now the women were sitting at a two-top in the smaller back section of the bar, Selma drinking her own whiskey straight-up, and Hannah sipping a Loaded Corona.
"Six months," Selma repeated, studying Hannah's face. "Good God, you're serious."