“One of the top dogs wants to see you,” Brenda said with a smirk.
It took Jess a moment to switch gears and process what Brenda had just said. Then her stomach swooped unpleasantly. Was this it? Was she about to get fired?
No. That was crazy. She hadn’t broken any laws, and she certainly hadn’t been at Spankees in any professional capacity. And anyway, he’d been there, too. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.
In spite of herself, her nipples tightened as she recalled his slow, sexy gaze moving over her naked body. Perhaps that had been a good thing. Maybe he’d been too busy staring at her body to notice her face.
It suddenly occurred to Jess that Brenda hadn’t said which “top dog.” There were nine partners, and she answered to all of them. Maybe she was panicking for nothing. She looked up, hoping her face didn’t betray her nerves.
“Who exactly is asking for me?” she asked, pleased her voice came out calm and well-modulated.
“Lord Hunk,” Brenda breathed, reverence in her tone.
Jess’s pulse began to race. Keeping her expression under control, she managed to speak with a calm she didn’t feel. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“No,” Brenda said. “I didn’t actually speak to him. Marion told me. All she said was that he wanted to see you in his office at your earliest convenience.”
“Okay. Thanks, Brenda.”
Brenda continued to hover at the door, her face a study in excitement and curiosity. “Do you have any idea what he wants?”
Jess shrugged. “Not a clue.”
Brenda made a small clucking noise of encouragement. “I’m sure it’s something good. You’re lucky. All that work you’ve been doing on the Lansing deal must be paying off. This might be your big break—a chance to be noticed.”
Or fired.
Jess did her best to keep her face blank. She had no intention of giving Brenda fodder for the mid-morning coffee break. Flashing a nervous grin, she managed, “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
She grabbed her suit jacket from the coat rack in the corner of the office. She put it on over her blouse and smoothed down her skirt. Pulling open a side drawer, she removed the small makeup bag she kept there. She opened the compact to inspect her face. She looked tired. And nervous. She applied a little fresh lipstick and smiled to make sure there was nothing in her teeth.
She briefly considered taking a quick gulp of the unopened single malt scotch a client had given her, and which she kept in her bottom desk drawer. Don’t be ridiculous, she silently chided herself.
Whatever happened, happened. She wasn’t going to stress out over it in advance. She’d graduated in the top ten in her law class at NYU. She was a second-year associate, hopefully on a path to partner at a prestigious Manhattan law firm. She’d worked her ass off for the firm. She’d handled herself well in court the few times she’d been allowed to present. What she did on her own time was nobody’s business.
Grabbing the elegant monogrammed leather portfolio her parents had given her at graduation and her lucky Montblanc pen, she left her tiny office. She focused on her breathing as she moved down the thickly carpeted corridor to Mr. Lord’s corner office.
Marion glanced up from her computer screen as Jess approached. “You can go right in. He’s expecting you.”
Chapter 2
Cameron looked up at the light knock on his ajar office door. No question about it. Here was the girl from last night. His brain stuttered a bit as it once more struggled to reconcile his memory of the naked, flushed woman at the BDSM club with this composed young attorney. She wore a tailored jacket over a high-necked silk blouse and a pencil skirt that came just to her knees. Small diamond studs glinted in her earlobes. Her hair, so wild the night before, was pulled neatly back with a large silver barrette at the nape of her neck.
“Come in,” he said, pen still poised over a document he was slashing. “Have a seat. I’ll be right with you.”
He lowered his head once more to his work, though he was surreptitiously watching her through lowered lashes. She entered the room, her eyes roving over the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined one side of the office. Her glance shifted to the other wall, where his various diplomas and degrees were displayed, alongside the wardrobe where he hung his jacket and kept a few fresh shirts. It also contained a fully stocked bar for entertaining clients. Behind him, out the huge picture window that made up most of the back wall, lay an imposing view of the New York Harbor, Lady Liberty holding her torch aloft in the distance.
Jessica perched on the edge of one of the wingback chairs in front of his desk, as if ready to flee at any moment. Though her expression was outwardly calm, tension radiated from her. His mind flashed back to the night before, and the lovely marks left by the whip. Was she feeling their sting, even now?