Rule Breaker By Accident

by Parker, Ali

  She nodded while I was talking, but she kept fiddling with her silverware or bouncing lightly in her seat. It was obvious she was excited about something. I just didn’t know what yet.

  “Have you ever worked with lawyers before?” she asked when I was done, her eyes shining and happy.

  “No, never. Why?” I expected my admission would have diminished her excitement, but it didn’t.

  Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she tucked a stray bit behind her ear. “Okay, so here’s the deal. My uncle is a lawyer and he’s looking for a good assistant. I put in a good word for you and he’s willing to hire you.”

  “He is?” I frowned, but I couldn’t deny there was a frisson of excitement lighting me up from the inside out. “He doesn’t want an interview first or anything?”

  She shook her head, undoing the lock she’d just tucked behind her ear. It seemed she was too excited now that she was talking to notice it again, though. “He trusts me. My uncle is going to love you and I told him so. He believed me.”

  Shock numbed my senses a little, doing its magical work on even the excitement that had been threatening to take over. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.

  “So he’s willing to hire me without an interview just because he trusts you?” It definitely sounded too good to be true. “He doesn’t even want to meet me before he gives his final yes?”

  “He’s in a bit of a bind,” she admitted finally, but she still had a joyful buzz going. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright. “His last assistant broke the rules and they had to let her go.”

  “Okay, but why me?”

  Jenna shrugged her narrow shoulders, but a wide grin spread on her red lips. “You’ve got a good work ethic. I can tell even if I haven’t known you all that long. I love my uncle and I want him to have the best. I believe that in this situation, it’s you.”

  My back hit my chair hard. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It wasn’t this easy to get a new job. I’d been in the “seeking employment” bracket of the population a few times, and never before had it been this easy. This job was literally landing in my lap.

  “What’s the catch?” I hated having to ask, but I was a realist. Good things came to those who waited, not to those who made a new friend.

  She tilted her head, finally stopping the bouncing. “What do you mean?”

  “There has to be a catch. Things like this don’t just happen.” They didn’t to people like me, anyway.

  “Have you ever heard the saying ‘it’s not what you know, it’s who you know’?” She waited for me to nod before continuing. “Well, now you know me. I told you I’m a paralegal now, right?”

  I nodded again, and Jenna went on with her explanation. “Remember I said I started as a receptionist at a law firm? Well, it was at my uncle’s firm. They loved me there. I’m not only his favorite niece, but I was also an awesome receptionist. He trusts my judgment.”

  I stared at her, wide-eyed, and then suddenly it hit me. “What’s the rule the previous assistant broke that got her fired?”

  She scrunched up her nose as if she’d smelled something awful. “They have all the normal rules, but they also have an extra one that they take very seriously. You can’t sleep with the clients. It looks bad on the whole firm and it always causes problems.”

  Rocking my head from side to side, I thought about her explanation of the random rule. I supposed it wasn’t really that random.

  Valerie, Heidi, and I had gone through a bit of a legal drama phase. We binge-watched every show we could get our hands on. I knew most of what we’d seen on them was bullshit, but I also knew lawyers worked long hours and clients could always take their work away from them at a moment’s notice.

  It made sense that assistants who worked closely with the lawyers would end up working closely with clients, too, and I guessed sometimes people fell into bed together. It could make things seriously weird for the client when they had to come back, especially if someone hadn’t been clear about what they wanted out of the … um, tryst.

  Probably it was easier for the client to find a new lawyer—unless of course it was someone very specialized—than it was to have to deal with the fallout. I got that.

  As for it looking bad on the whole firm, supposedly lawyers were consummate professionals. I could see how it would be the height of unprofessionalism for them to have their assistants sleeping with their clients.

  Feeling a hopeful smile playing at the corners of my lips, I sat forward again and looked Jenna right in the eye. “That won’t be a problem for me. I won’t sleep with anyone.”

  She arched an eyebrow, but there was a playful look in her eyes. “How can you be so sure it won’t be a problem for you? My uncle and his partners may be as ancient as dinosaurs, but they’re respected dinosaurs. Some of their clients are gorgeous. They even represent some athletes.”

  “It won’t be a problem,” I said it slower this time, my voice firm and sure. “Trust me. They wouldn’t have to worry about that kind of thing with me.”

  “What are you, a virgin? You couldn’t be that sure unless you are a vir—” She cut herself off, her eyes widening to the point where they made saucers look like amateurs. “Oh my God. You’re kidding. You’re a virgin? Wow. How?”

  Her jaw looked like it was about to drop, and her voice had increased in volume. I shot her a look, lifting my fingers to my lips. “Shh. I wasn’t planning on telling the entire restaurant.”

  She gave me a sheepish smile, this time leaning so far over the table she may as well have lay down on it. “Sorry, but seriously. How? Are you, like, asexual or something? It would be totally cool with me if you were, by the way.”

  Heat crept up from my chest, inching its way up before finally settling on my neck and cheeks. “I’m not. I’m very much interested in having sex. It’s not that I don’t want to, I just haven’t found anyone to do it with yet.”

  Well, maybe that’s not true anymore. I could suddenly think of one person I wouldn’t mind giving it up to, and just the realization had a different kind of heat spreading through my body.

  Chapter 13

  Rylen

  “I’m so fucking relieved our surgeries today all went as well as they did,” I told Edgar as we pushed our way through the double doors at the hospital, heading out back to the staff parking lot.

  We were done for the day, and my zero-mortality score was still in place. Mr. McClennan had given me a run for my money, but I pulled him through in the end. I was hoping that in our post-op care sessions, I could work with him a bit on his state of mind as well.

  It was something that I often had to do, despite what people thought my job entailed. Heart surgery meant I took a scalpel to someone’s heart, but that same surgery could also really fuck with their heads. Mental preparation for the surgery was part of it, but so was helping out after.

  If I found that a patient needed more than I could give them, I referred them to a professional. Mr. McClennan probably wouldn’t go for that option, so I would have to use the time he had to come to me to do whatever I could for him.

  Edgar ripped me out of my impending melancholy about the patient with a loud, relieved laugh and a nudge to my shoulder. “Damn straight. I won’t lie to you. I wasn’t looking forward to today. One without anything to live for and one with everything to live for. Thank fuck they both made it.”

  “Yeah.” I dragged a hand through my hair before adjusting the shoulder strap on my satchel. I had already finished my reports for the day, but there were some notes I wanted to make once I got home. “You did a good job today, you know. Mrs. Ians was fawning over your updates when I went out to talk to her after we were done. She kept saying she might have suffered a heart attack herself if you hadn’t been there.”

  He barked out another laugh. “She nearly fucking tackled people out in the hallway to get me whenever I went outside. It was intense, but I’m happy I only had good news to deliver.”

  Lif
ting his fist for me to bump, I indulged him before shoving him with my elbow. “I’m also really proud of you for not being hungover today.”

  I flashed him a shit-eating grin, but he only gave me a look. “Fuck you very much, man. It doesn’t happen that often.”

  About to reply, I spotted a familiar head of dark hair standing beside my car. Not wanting to let her out of my sight for fear she was a hallucination conjured up my overused-for-the-day brain, I thumped Edgar on the back without looking at him.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, bud. Have a good one.”

  Before he could reply, I was jogging to my car. I felt his puzzled look on my back, though. But I had bigger fish to fry.

  Olive watched me approach with an unreadable expression on her face. She smiled tentatively when I was in earshot, giving me a little wave.

  “Hey. I hope it’s okay that I’m here.”

  I opened my arms, waiting until she stepped in for the hug I was offering before wrapping my arms around her. The vanilla-and-cherry scent of her hair drifted to my nostrils, and it was the first thing that had made me really relax all day.

  “Of course it is.” I released her, ducking down so I was looking into her eyes. “I’m curious to know why you came, though. Is something wrong?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Her smile widened and she tucked a bit of loose hair behind her ear. “I needed to talk to you about something. Whenever you have time is fine. I didn’t mean to ambush you or anything.”

  There was an underlying nervousness to her tone that I didn’t quite understand. I’d thought we were over the nerve-racking part of our—for lack of a better word—relationship. “You’re not ambushing me. I have time now. What’s up?”

  I shoved my hands into the pockets of my slacks, searching her eyes for any hints of what she was about to say. They didn’t give anything away, though.

  Olive shifted her weight to the other foot, her gaze suddenly darting around the parking lot but not falling on anything in particular. “If it’s okay with you, it’s something I’d rather discuss in private.”

  My eyebrows pushed together, but a strange shiver ran down my spine. It was a mix between anticipation over what she could possibly have to discuss with me that had to be done in private, and trepidation for the same reason.

  “Do you want to come over to my place for dinner?” Whatever she wanted to discuss, I was starving. “I’ll cook. All you would have to do is to keep me company and have some wine.”

  Her eyes came back to mine, an unexpected hint of vulnerability in her bright-blue irises. “I can do that. Okay. What time?”

  I looked up at the sky, which was turning a deep shade of orange. “Is now too soon? You can get a ride with me … or follow me there if you came in your own car.”

  “I’ll follow you.” She lifted her hand and pointed a finger in the direction of the public parking lot across the street. “I’ll meet you on the corner.”

  “I’ll be there,” I promised. “I’ll also text you my address in case we lose each other in the traffic.”

  Her smile finally lost some of its tightness. “Good thinking. I’ll see you soon.”

  She spun around and walked at a clipped pace toward the public lot. I stared after her, wondering what the hell was going on. Only when I couldn’t see her anymore did I climb into my car and fire off the text.

  Traffic was light on the way to my place. It was easy to keep track of Olive’s little white car on the way, making sure that she stayed behind me. It was beat up, but it seemed to be running fine. A weird sense of pride surged through me about how well she kept it maintained and that she was safe about her mode of transportation.

  My house was in a good neighborhood, albeit not as good as Olive’s. It honestly didn’t bother me, though. I lived in two-story, single family home with a double garage on one side and neat lawn spreading from the front door to the sidewalk. In front of the door were two large, round terra-cotta pots. It was a nice house, even if it wasn’t in the best area in the city.

  The backyard was a source of pride for me with its kidney-shaped pool, barbecue area, and round fire pit. It had three bedrooms, three bathrooms and a nice, modern kitchen that had just been remodeled the year before I bought it.

  It was nothing too fancy, but I owned it free and clear. I also happened to think it was a damn comfortable home. I was looking forward to showing Olive around.

  Hitting the button for the garage door, I waited for it to lift before parking. I rolled down my window to wave Olive inside, waiting until she parked beside me before lowering the door down again.

  We climbed out and I walked around the front of my car to reach her, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

  “It’s not very humble.” Her gaze dropped to the tiled floor before taking in the meticulously organized space. My shelves were stacked with odds and ends, power tools and boxes of stuff I didn’t use inside.

  Once upon a time, I’d gone through a woodworking stage. It was encouraged that we take up hobbies as an outlet for the stress at work, but woodworking hadn’t quite done it for me. My work bench was still set up near the door, several tools hanging from hooks above it. They were arranged based on size, with the most useful and frequently used tools within easy reach on my right.

  “Those don’t look like they’ve ever been used,” Olive commented when she looked in the direction of the tools. “I don’t know much about that kind of thing, but those are really shiny.”

  I shrugged, leading her into the house with me. “It was a phase. Obviously not one that worked out very well for me.”

  She looked up at me as we walked through the side door and into the kitchen. “Shouldn’t you be good with your hands? You are a surgeon, after all.”

  I very nearly choked on nothing, my mind going straight to the gutter once the first part of her sentence was out. Then I caught sight of her innocent expression and forced those thoughts right back out.

  Clearing my throat, I stopped when we reached the island in the center of my kitchen. “I am, yeah. It wasn’t that I couldn’t make stuff, I just wasn’t getting into it. I wasn’t creating masterpieces or anything anyway. It was just supposed to be a stress reliever. Turns out I’m better in high-pressure environments than no pressure at all.”

  Olive smiled. “Considering how you earn a living, that’s probably a good thing.”

  “Agreed.” I pulled out a stool for her, motioning for to take a seat. “Here. Sit down and relax. I’ll get you something to drink and then I’ll start getting dinner out to cook.”

  She sat down, perched right at the edge of the stool, and nodded. Reluctantly releasing her hand, I turned away from her and walked around the island to my refrigerator. Opening the door, I stuck my head in to see what I could offer her to drink and called to her over my shoulder. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

  There was a half-empty bottle of wine resting on one of the shelves, as well as two bottles of beer. I wasn’t a big drinker, especially not at home. Unsure whether the wine would still be okay since I couldn’t remember when I’d opened it, I was about to take out the two beers instead when I felt rather than heard Olive behind me.

  Her thin arms wrapped around my waist and pressed up against me, her body flush with mine. I could feel her soft breasts against my back. My breathing hitched. You’re taking it slow, remember?

  Sucking in a breath, I put my hands gently over hers and held them as I turned to face her. “Olive?”

  Blue eyes turned up to mine, a myriad of emotions shining in them. “I was speaking to a friend of mine yesterday and our conversation made me think of you.”

  “Okay.” I brought my hands to her hips, moving us both to the side and a little backward until my butt hit the counter. Leaning against it, I flexed my hands and looked into her eyes. “What were you talking about?”

  All the emotions gave way for a primary one, and seeing it there made a knot form in my stomach
. What is she so afraid of?

  “We, uh”—she paused and took a deep breath, the next words leaving her in a rush—“were talking about how I was still a virgin and why. I told her there was just never anyone I wanted to give it up to. Then I thought about you and how I would like to sleep with you. If you want to, of course. You don’t have to, I just—”

  I stopped her rambling by lowering my mouth gently to hers. Her lips were soft, but her kiss was insistent, her hands traveling up to my shoulders. She pressed herself up against me, almost like she was planning on mounting me right there in the kitchen.

  Ordinarily that wouldn’t be a problem for me, but I wasn’t fucking her for the first time in my kitchen. Especially not if it was her actual first time. Also, what the fuck?

  She’d just dropped a massive bomb on me, and if she kept grinding against me and kissing me like her life depended on it, my dick was going to take over the thinking portion of the night’s entertainment from my brain and I couldn’t let that happen. Not yet, anyway.

  Slowing the kiss until it came to a more natural end, I lifted my lips away from hers but kept my hands firmly on her hips. I didn’t want her to think I was rejecting her, but the hurt I saw reflected in her eyes told me that was exactly where her brain had gone.

  “Hey, whoa. I’m not saying no. I want you, Olive.” I rocked my hips forward so she could feel how much I really did, releasing a low hiss at the contact.

  Holy fuck. My eyes nearly rolled back in my head just from that. It was almost painful to pull back instead of jumping right in, but I had to. I wasn’t about to take her virginity without checking in with her.

  The last time we’d only just kissed when she pushed me away and told me she couldn’t sleep with me. I needed to know what had precipitated her change of mind and whether she really wanted this to happen.

  Fuck knows I do. “What’s going on here? I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

  “I did.” She inhaled a stuttered breath, but her eyes were firm on mine. “I’ve just been thinking about it after talking to my friend and I want to do this. With you.”