Christmas In The City (Imperfect Match 1.50)

I took my phone out of my pocket and pulled up Margo’s name. Not even sure why I hadn’t deleted the contact. I turned the screen toward her. She examined the number and frowned, looking genuinely upset.

She cleared her throat. “I typed 4229 when it should have been 4299. I never meant to give you the wrong number.”

Well, that’s an unexpected plot twist in this fucked-up story.

Softening my stance, I said, “I assumed you were playing some kind of game, one where you go about the city kissing random men and giving them the wrong number for your own enjoyment.”

Margo looked deeply into my eyes and said, “I would never do that to someone. What reason would I have had to give you a fake number anyway? That kiss was amazing.” Her mouth dropped after that admission, as if her own words had stunned her, like she hadn’t expected to be so candid.

I wanted to tell her that I’d done nothing that entire day but think about the way her lips felt on mine, the way her mouth tasted. I dreamt of juniper for days. I hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything but her for the longest time. That day, I’d wanted to wait at least twenty-four hours to call her, but ended up biting the bullet and dialing that night, hoping to convince her to meet me. I would’ve gone anywhere she asked to just to see her again.

But now that I knew who she was, how could I admit all that? Even talking to her right now was a huge conflict of interest.

“I guess we both got caught up in a big misunderstanding,” I finally said.

Her eyes glistened. “So, you did try to call me?”

“Yes…” I nodded. “I did.”

Margo blinked several times and stared off before looking back up at me. If this situation were different, the realization of this misunderstanding would have been a good thing. But now? Where do we even go from here? We’re already at a dead end.

My eyes wandered down to the exposed skin of her plunging neckline, the trail of cleavage that led to the taut, exposed skin below it. I suddenly felt like I had to adjust myself through my yellow spandex. Yeah, this was not a good moment to get excited, not only because my dick was basically in a sock, but because Margo Adams was officially the last woman on Earth I was allowed to feel this way about.

“Look, I don’t have anything against you, Margaret. I’m just doing my job in representing Rex.”

She blew out a breath. “I understand that. And I’m sure Rex is feeding you lies. He’s a liar, Chet.” Her voice shook. “He cheated on me. I never did anything to deserve it. All I want is a clean break from that mistake of a marriage, and he’s making it so hard for me to just live my life. I won’t settle for anything less than a good man whom I can trust.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Margo,” I said without hesitation.

Rex needed his head examined for ever cheating on this woman.

And why had I started calling her Margo again? Margo was the woman I’d kissed in the café. The woman in front of me is Margaret. My client’s wife—who’s completely off-limits. That’s what I was supposed to believe. But as I continued to look down at her, all I could see was a sweet, beautiful, honest person standing in front of me. And all I wanted to do was something I knew I never could—kiss her again.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.

“Is it about the case? Honestly, there are rules about talking to a client who is represented. I shouldn’t be discussing anything without your attorney present.”

She shook her head. “It’s not about the case, no. Just a general question.”

Technically I just couldn’t discuss her case, but really I shouldn’t be having a conversation with her at all. My client would blow a gasket if he knew I was making small talk with his ex-wife. No less wanting to lean in and take a giant whiff of her hair.

Shit. Where had that come from? I seriously had the strongest urge to smell her goddamn hair. I needed to end this conversation once and for all. And that’s exactly what I’d planned on doing, except the words that came out of my mouth were:

“Sure. What’s your question?”

“How do you represent assholes?”

I stifled a laugh. It was about her case, considering Rex seemed like a giant one. Nevertheless, I cleared my throat and gave her the textbook answer. “The United State Constitution affords each and every citizen the right to due process—which means having competent legal counsel. If all attorneys only defended the innocent, or the non-assholes as you say, our legal system would collapse.”

Margo studied me for a moment. She rubbed her chin. “So, you represent assholes because our founding fathers created a system of checks and balances, then?”

I gave a curt nod. “Exactly.”

“You want to know what I think?”

Uh. From her tone I wasn’t sure I wanted to… Yet, once again, I found myself speaking out of turn.

“Sure.”