“Are you avoiding me?” Lana Dunstrom puts her hand on my shoulder. “Why does it feel like you’re ignoring me?”
Because I am?
The fuck was fun, but that’s all it was. If I wanted a relationship it sure as hell wouldn’t happen with someone who I regularly face in court.
I can’t wrap my brain around the vision of fucking a woman after we wake up in the same bed and then fucking her over in court a few hours later.
I have boundaries. One of them happens to be that I won’t get more involved than a casual screw with a woman I see inside a courtroom.
“I’ve been busy, Lana.” I look down at her. “You’ve been busy too, I hope. We’re due in court the week after next to argue the Lindel case. I take it your client is ready for that?”
She eyes me up with her baby blues. “Mr. Lindel is more than ready to take you on.”
I highly doubt it.
He’s a coke-snorting, cheating bastard who left his wife home alone for an entire weekend with their three young children while he partied in Southampton like he was single.
“We’ll see about that,” I say in a low tone. “Your case is weak. Our offer is still on the table. I’ll refresh in the event that you’ve forgotten. My client wants fu
ll custody of the kids. Child support, alimony and the deed on the apartment in the city are acceptable. He can keep his party pad in Southampton and his new friends.”
“You’re dreaming.” She runs her hand through her long blonde hair. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Sleeping.” I jab my finger into the elevator call button again.
“We can do that together,” she purrs.
“I prefer to sleep alone.”
She sighs. It’s most likely meant to sound breathy and sensual, but it comes across as desperate and dramatic. “I miss you, Griffin. There’s no reason why we can’t spend another night together.”
There are a million reasons why we can’t, in the form of dollar bills. I want those to go to Mrs. Lindel. I’m not about to risk the case over a conflict of interest because my cock is involved with the opposing counsel.
I finally turn to face her. “We need to keep our pants on, Lana. This case is a big one. You know your boss would be pissed if he knew you fucked me two weeks before we’re in front of the judge.”
“How would he find out?”
It’s a good question that I have an answer to. “He’s walking toward us right now. Put on your game face, sweetheart. You know he plays by the rule book.”
She nods and straightens her stance. “I’ll see you in court, Mr. Kent. You better be ready for the fight of your life. I’m bringing my big guns.”
I step forward when the elevator doors finally open.
Big guns indeed. Her tits are something else, along with the rest of her.
I had a taste but she wasn’t for me. I’m looking for something taller and brunette that apparently can be found at an art gallery uptown.
***
I walk into Grant Gallery expecting to see Piper Ellis.
I don’t.
Instead, I see a cute blonde talking to an older guy. They seem immersed in a discussion about a painting. From my vantage point, it looks like someone threw a few buckets of paint against a canvas and called it a day.
The colors are muted and subtle. If there’s an intentional design to the thing, I can’t see it.
I look to my left at a series of sculptures displayed next to the window that faces the street. Again, I’m the wrong person to be judging the value of the pieces. I walk closer to them and realize that someone thinks they’re worth more than most new cars. The price tags are staggering.