Bad Attitude - A Fake Fiance Romance

Chapter One

Liam

I had told all the jokes.

God created the Devil so people wouldn’t blame everything on God, and the Devil created lawyers so people wouldn’t blame everything on the Devil.

What do you call 10,000 lawyers at the bottom of the ocean? A good start.

So, it was fair to say that finding myself in need of a lawyer was not the kind of situation I was fond of. And yet, stepping into that office changed my whole life.

The Howell and Howell law firm’s building wasn’t as grandiose as one would expect given the firm’s billion-dollar status. There was no black, glass office buildings for them. Instead, the offices were housed in a five-floor, red brick, classic building with a flat roof. It was an antique they held onto mostly through the efficacy of their pool of property lawyers. There were always land developers trying to knock it down, the building being in a prime location. Yet, despite nearly ten years of trying, none had yet to succeed.

I liked a firm that stuck to their guns. That was what I needed by my side.

I walked towards the late added elevator, leaning on my cane harder than usual — my destroyed hip aching with the change in weather. I usually tried to hide my cane when I had to take meetings for work. Pulling more tricks than FDR to keep anyone from knowing the extent of my wartime injury, aside from my most trusted staff. It just wasn’t good optics for the founder and president of Black Flag Security to have such an outward show of weakness, never mind the fact that it was literally caused by shrapnel.

Ann Howell, one of the partners here, had been really awesome helping me with a dispute over a building I owned, and happily, we were down to the last of the negotiations and just a few papers for me to sign today. I’d gotten Howell and Howell’s name from Carl, one of my buddies from my former army unit, who now worked for me, and I was glad that I did.

The elevator made some disconcerting sounds as it cranked its way from the ground floor up to the fifth, but I ignored that. On the upside, the doors opened at the front desk of Ann’s office. Her brother Jim was up here on the top floor too, the corridor behind the desk splitting off in two directions, Ann to the left and Jim to the right, but it was Ann I was here to see.

“Morning, Mr. Adams!” Ann’s assistant Vicky said with a bright smile. Her flaming, red hair, pulled up into a ponytail, swung behind her shoulder.

Vicky was bubbly. She was also Ann’s sister-in-law, which I figured would make their working relationship either easier or really awkward. Everything I had seen to that point suggested the former.

“Is she here?” I asked, trying to not lean on my cane so much. Even though I had an appointment, I knew full well Ann could get called into court at any time.

“Of course, she is expecting you,” Vicky said, getting up from behind her desk. Following Vicky to the corridor, trying to keep pace, I did my best not to look like a hobbled old man. At forty-five, I wasn’t old at all, but my body had seen better days. Fighting terrorists can do that to a person.

The office she led me to was brightly decorated in yellows and blues. It was a bit feminine for my taste, but it suited Ann, who had the sunniest disposition for a lawyer that I had ever met.

“Mr. Adams,” Ann said with a smile, getting up from behind her desk. Her black hair was cut into a sharp bob that framed her heart-shaped face with high cheekbones. “Ann, we’ve been over this. Please, call me Liam,” I said as we firmly shook hands. “Because Mr. Adams is your dad?” she joked. I shook my head, not cracking a smile. “No, I just prefer Liam,” I clarified. “Ah, I see,” Ann said, then, realizing that humor was not my forte. “Please, take a seat.” Sitting like a good dog in the chair dedicated for clients, I tried to get more comfortable. The pain in my hip made me cranky, and I knew that my attitude could be off-putting sometimes. Ann did not deserve that.

She sat back in her ergonomically designed chair ordered directly from Sweden.

“How are things?” Ann asked, with genuine concern.

“Better now that you’re involved in the whole mess,” I said. “Thanks, I think,” Ann replied, cracking a smile. “I’ll have my assistant bring in the paperwork.”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “At least I’ll have one less thing to worry about before the wedding,” I murmured offhandedly.

“Carl’s wedding?” Ann asked, raising both of her black, arched eyebrows.

“Yeah, next month. You were invited?” I asked curiously. She grinned and opened her eyes wider. “Is it that surprising?” Ann asked. “Oh, no,” I said, back-peddling, not sure how to not offend her. She lifted her brows higher for just a second. “Uh-huh, anyway, I went through basic training with Carl, hence the invite. Career army was not for me, so I used my GI bill to help get through college and into law school.”