Chicks, Man

About a year ago, some families got together and reached out to Matthews and Associates. They weren’t going to bow down and wanted to see justice for their lost loved ones. Being a huge family man, it was no shocker my dad took the case immediately. Hearing all the stories about children who lost their fathers, wives who lost their husbands and sons, families who lost everyone…it was gut wrenching to even fathom.

I only just learned about the case, and I’ve already memorized every single person’s name, who they lost, how old their kids were. These were real people. They deserved to be heard. To understand their loss wasn’t for nothing. Anything I touched, I read twice, studied, checked to see if there was anything I could offer advice on. I was only a college graduate, but with a set of fresh eyes and dedication, I could be of use.

There was no doubt the firm would win the case, granting each family a large sum of money—not that money will replace their loved ones. But these people took away not only their family, but the main source of income. It’s only right they pay for what they’ve done.

Even thinking about all I’ve learned gets me heated. “Man, don’t get me started on this one. Whoever this Miller guy is should rot in jail for life.”

The morning flies by, and before we realize it, we’ve chatted in depth about the Miller case all the way to lunchtime. I probably shouldn’t be so loose-lipped about the case, but Bradyon is so easy to talk to. He actually succeeded in putting a genuine smile on my face and giving a few much needed belly-laughs along the way. There’s definitely something missing in the spark department, but sometimes that takes time. Getting to know him better can fix that.

I place the small rose to my nose again, inhaling the floral scent. I journey back to my desk and grab my purse to head back down for lunch when Levi’s door flies open.

Darn it.

“Where’ve you been?”

I whirl around to face him, unable to stop the intake of breath when I become acutely aware of his alluring appearance. Gray fitted suit, no tie, one open button. He leans against his office door, his translucent green eyes boring into mine. I almost cower at his intensity, but just as quickly, I fight out of his trance, my brow crinkling at his tone. If he thinks he can get away with talking to me like that, he’s wrong.

“I was downstairs.”

“Why exactly?”

What a jerk. He knows why. He just wants me to say it. “I was going over some notes with Braydon, if you care so much.” I give him my back and drop my pad of paper, ducking down to my lowest drawer to pull out my water bottle to use as a vase.

“There’s no reason why he still needs to coach you. You know everything you need to know. Plus, you can come to me.” As if. I don’t plan to come to him for anything. “And what the hell is that?” he barks as I stick the stem into the bottle.

“It’s exactly what it looks like, Levi—a flower. Braydon gave it to me because he felt so horrible for having to bail on me this weekend. You know, because YOU put him on the assignment.” I don’t hold back, offering him the same snarl he’s giving off. It only seems to anger him more. Grabbing my forearm, he grits out, “Get in here. I need to speak to you in private.”

I tug at my arm, but he’s already dragging me into his office and slamming the door. “What the fuck, Hannah? What are you trying to pull here?”

“Me! What do you mean what am I trying to pull? You’re the liar.”

Levi laughs. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

What a jerk! “You know what, this is ridiculous. I have a lunch date, so unless you need something work-related, we’re done here.”

That sets a whole new fire in his eyes. “A lunch date? Are you kidding me? With who? Your little boy toy downstairs?” I hate that he can even call him that. Yeah, he’s not big and macho and strong and perfect, but he’s kind and nice and not a liar.

“For your information, yes. And I plan to enjoy myself immensely!”

“You’re not going.”

Ugh, he is so frustrating! “Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

How dare he! “You can’t tell me what to do or who to have lunch with!” He steps into my personal space, almost knocking me over with his heaving chest.

“You’re not going because you’re going to have lunch with me. We’re going to talk about what happened on Saturday, and you’re going to get over whatever issues you seem to have.”

My biggest issue right now is the way he’s trying to control me. I stick my chin out and straighten my shoulders. I will not let him boss me around. “Not gonna happen.”