Chicks, Man

If he wants to be immature about this, so be it. I won’t fall for his trickery. He won’t get me to admit he’s winning the game I’m not playing, or that I want to disassemble every woman who calls and scream from the rooftops I saw him first. Wait…what?

Shoot…

“Levi Dent’s office, how can I assist you? No, he’s in meetings all day. Wednesday? Same. I’m not sure what his evening schedule looks like, I only tend to his office hours’ schedule. I will. Melissa with two s’s. Got it. Bye-bye.”

I hate him.

“Levi Dent’s office, how can I assist you? His personal line? He doesn’t have a personal line. How do I know, because he would have told—I mean—no! This is a business. Not a dating hotline. Get lost!”

I slam the phone down. I really, really hate him.

“Levi Dent’s house of whor—oh, hi, Daddy.” Oops.

“Hey, baby. How’s it going up there? I miss you. We’ve been in the bullpen really working on this Miller case. Everyone still treating you fair?”

Everyone but Levi.

Not that his laid-back, everything-is-fake normal treatment is bad.

Okay, I take that back. It’s horrible! I’m on day three of having him give me this…this…blah! How do I even define it? The normal Levi? Gone is that man-handling aggressive side I dream about, the one where his hands dominate me, owning me. In its place is the nice, gentle Levi who asks if I need coffee before he runs out, or tells me to have a nice lunch and my shirt is pretty. Fuck that! Fuck him. I hate him.

“Baby, you still there?”

Mentally, no. “Yeah, Daddy. Sorry. Just busy learning the cases and sitting in on mock trials. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Sugar, you can never disappoint me. You make me proud every day.” His kind words have an opposite effect. Doing a commendable job should make me feel great, but I don’t feel like I am. At least when it comes to the person I’m working for.

“Hey. Earth to Hannah.”

I turn to Braydon as he shoves a gross amount of cheese battered fries into his mouth. “What?”

“I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes and you haven’t even touched your food.” After a long morning of complete bull crap calls, I debated on unplugging my phone. But then I worried it was a job violation since it is my job to answer his calls. My mood is as sour as my stomach watching Braydon shovel the greasy food into his mouth. And to make matters worse, Levi sent an email saying he was working remotely today. Not that I wanted to see him, which only consists of him zipping back and forth past my desk. But even so, in those short spans, his cologne lingers, which I shamefully inhale, basking in the memory of—

“Well, like I was saying, the gala is tomorrow, and if you don’t have a date, I’d love to go with you. I’d go myself, but it’s only for the top employees, and well, I wasn’t invited. But! I’m headed there. Really been putting in my time. I think your dad sees my efforts. If you ever have the chance, you should put a good word in for me. I can decrypt those accounts just as efficiently as the next guy. Not even sure why what’s his name is so loved. Saw he put a plus-one for his extra gala ticket. Can’t imagine what train wreck would want to put up with him for a night. I bet I could beat him in a court—”

“Sure.”

“Sure, I can go with you?”

“Sure.” As in anything for you to stop talking. Levi’s bringing a date? Having to hear women call confirming dates is one thing. Having to see one on his arm is a whole other ballpark.

That’s it.

He wants to play?

It’s on.

We pull up in the limo Dad arranged. The valet opens my door to assist me out of the car. My dress, a silver couture gown, spaghetti straps, and silk material, flows to the ground as I step out. The chill hits my open back, and I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. Braydon climbs out behind me, not taking notice of my coldness, and starts forward.

“Holy cow, this is some fancy shit.”

“Yep. Sure is.” I shrug off his excitement. Normally, I pass on these things. Growing up, instead of playing with dolls and dress up, I was catching frogs and making dirt castles. Even today, the glitz and glamor isn’t my thing. But tonight? I had a war to win. Which meant I finally allowed Mom to play her part and dress me to the hilt.

Remembering his manners, Braydon secures my hand and escorts us down the red carpet inside the lavish hotel until we’re met by my parents, Kipley, and Stacey.

“My, my, look at you,” Stacey gushes, taking my hands in hers and spinning me. “You’re like a true Hollywood star.”