Love/Hate: The Complete Enemies to Lovers Series

by Lilian Monroe

  When she walks into the bar, I’ve already sat down and ordered us two glasses of Pinot Grigio. She spreads her arms and hugs me so hard I wince.

  “Oh, geez,” she says. “Sorry. Is your back still sore?”

  “Not so much anymore, swimming helps.”

  “And it helps the figure as well,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “You are looking fantastic. You’re glowing!”

  I laugh, shaking my head. Our wine arrives, and I ask Stella about her house. She tells me about nightmare renovations, pipes bursting, leaky roofs. She’s got bags under her eyes, and she finishes her wine in four big gulps.

  She picks up her empty glass. “This is empty!”

  I laugh. “Yep.”

  “I must be drinking faster than I thought. It’s that darn house.”

  “Well, at least you have the cash to buy a house,” I grin.

  “How are you? Did Jack’s insurance come through?”

  I shake my head. “Still waiting. I think they’re delaying because it was a hit and run. They’ve been asking me all kinds of questions. Either that or they’re trying to say it was related to skiing, which isn’t covered since it’s a ‘high risk activity’, or whatever.”

  “It was a car accident!” She shakes her head and motions to the bartender for more wine. “Insurance companies are scumbags.”

  I sigh, and Stella glances at me.

  “Something else is up.”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “It’s nothing.”

  “You call me, out of the blue, on a Sunday night. I don’t think you did that to hear me complaining about my new house.”

  “You’re right,” I grin. “I, uh… I’ve gotten myself into a situation.”

  Her eyebrow arches. I’ve known Stella for about seven years—we used to be paralegals together. She left to go to law school and is now a full-fledged lawyer. Her eyes have always been sharp, but now it seems like she misses nothing.

  “What kind of situation?”

  I clear my throat. “I may have slept with a coworker.”

  Her lips twitch. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, he’s more of a boss, really. Not directly, but he could be.”

  “A partner at the firm?”

  I nod.

  “Oh, Nicole,” she sighs.

  “No, everything was great! He… he lost his wife last year, too. We…” I sigh. Our wine arrives and I take a big sip. “We get along really well. I mean really well.”

  “And the sex is good?”

  “Very good.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Well,” I start. I take a deep breath. The words just don’t seem to want to come out. Finally, with Stella still watching me, I explain. “He took me on this weekend getaway to the mountains—to this gorgeous log cabin.”

  “Very romantic.”

  “It was! Except on the way there, we passed the site of the accident.”

  “Oh gosh.”

  “I asked to stop. It felt… significant. I went to the spot where we hit the tree, and it felt like Jack’s presence was there. I just… it was nice. And it was nice to be there with Martin. It felt like I was ready to move on from it all, insurance money or not.”

  Stella nods and tilts her head. “So what’s the problem?”

  “Well, Martin kind of… changed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s not himself. He barely looked at me after that, barely touched me. The sex was… I don’t know, angry. Or just intense, I guess. It was good, don’t get me wrong. But…” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe it all reminded him of his wife. You said he lost his spouse?”

  “That’s what I thought. But anytime I tried to ask him anything he just shut down.”

  “He probably just needs more time. Not everyone grieves the same way.”

  I nod. Now it’s my turn to look at my near-empty wine glass in surprise. Stella laughs.

  “I think there’s a hole in our glasses, because there’s no way we’re drinking this quickly.”

  I smile. I need to change the subject. Worry is starting to weigh me down, so I turn to Stella. “How’s work, anyway?”

  “It’s good. Busy—I’m sure you’re the same. It seems like it never stops.”

  We move on from the conversation, and the burden on my shoulders seems a little bit lighter. When we finish our third glass of wine, we both stand up and waver.

  “That wine went straight to my head.” Stella grabs onto the back of a chair to steady herself.

  “Just like the old days.”

  We lean on each other and walk out. We share a taxi, since my place is on the way to hers. Before I get out, I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight.

  “It was really good to see you.”

  “You too.” Her voice is muffled in my coat. “We need to hang out more often.”

  “Maybe I can help you with the house renovations.”

  “Be careful,” she laughs. “I might just take you up on that.”

  “I’m pretty good with a hammer.”

  “That’s terrifying.”

  I laugh and bid her goodbye. This time, when I get inside, I let out a deep breath. I’m a little tipsy, but that’s not why I feel better. I think I’ve gotten too caught up in the whirlwind with Martin. I need to take a step back, to think about what is best for me.

  It feels like I’ve moved on from Jack, but that doesn’t mean I need to go all-in with Martin. He’s got just as much baggage as I do, and how can we support each other if we’re both struggling?

  I get ready for bed, checking my phone one last time before snuggling into the covers. There’s no message from Martin, and as much as I try to tell myself I don’t care, I know that I’m disappointed.

  20

  Martin

  This time, when I wake up for work, I’m not excited. I’m dreading it. I drag my feet out of bed and stand under the shower, unmoving. I open my mouth and drink a bit of shower water, and then finally start washing myself. By the time I’ve made myself a coffee and had some breakfast, I’m leaving for work a full half hour later than usual.

  I avoid Nicole’s desk on the way in, but I can’t avoid Carmen’s. She calls out to me when I walk past her office.

  “Martin, so good of you to show up today!”

  I poke my head in and see her with one of our biggest clients. Julian is a chart-topping musician, and in his ripped jeans and casual tee-shirt, he looks very out of place in Carmen’s sleek, modern office.

  “Julian,” I say, extending my hand. “Good to see you.”

  “Not sure I can say the same,” he grimaces. “I’d rather not be in here at all.”

  Carmen gives me a look, and gestures to a chair. I take a seat beside Julian, and Carmen explains.

  “Julian has gotten himself in a bit of trouble. It shouldn’t be too hard to fight—it’s a DUI.”

  “Who’s the judge?”

  “Judge Harkin.”

  “Fuck,” I say under my breath.

  Julian shakes his head. “This guy has it out for me. I didn’t even do anything to him!”

  “He has it out for everyone who he thinks could be a bad influence on the ‘youths’, as he calls them,” I explain. “Since you’re in the public eye, and your audience includes lots of young people, I would expect he wants to make an example out of you.”

  “He said exactly that,” Carmen answers. “Martin, I’d like you to take the case.”

  I nod. “No problem.” Carmen glances at Julian and then back at me. I frown. “Anything I should know?”

  Julian sighs. His chin falls to his chest and he runs his fingers through his hair. “I hit someone.”

  The wind gets knocked out of me. No. I can’t take this. I can’t have anything to do with this. No, no, no. Nicole would never forgive me. I can’t do that to her.

  But I sit there, and don’t say anything. What possible reason could I give to refuse this case? Julian
is one of our most famous and richest clients. He pays us a huge retainer to deal with these exact types of situations.

  So I just clear my throat. “And this person you hit… are they alive?”

  “Yes!” Julian says, whipping his head toward me. “Fuck man, I’m not a killer!”

  A knife goes straight through my heart, and I do my best to keep my face blank. “Of course.”

  Carmen interjects. “The woman he hit is in the hospital. Her injuries are relatively minor, but her husband is pushing her to press charges.”

  “I see.”

  “So can you help me out?” Julian stares at me, his eyebrows arched. I can see a hint of desperation in his eyes.

  I nod. “Yes.”

  Julian blows the air out of his mouth and nods. “Alright.”

  “Until then,” Carmen says, “you do as the judge says and you do not drive. Not even once. Not in a deserted parking lot. Not out on country roads. You don’t have a license, and if you’re caught again, you will go to jail.”

  Julian grins. “Got it.”

  “This is serious.”

  “I know.”

  By the time I leave Carmen’s office, my head is spinning. I know that I have to take Julian’s case. He’s a huge client for the firm, and Carmen asked me specifically. That’s not the kind of thing I can refuse. Plus, it’s not like I can explain why I don’t want to work on the case.

  Judge Harkin is tough, but I think we can settle this with no jail time, and hopefully not much press. Carmen is an expert at making these kinds of things go away, and I expect she’ll be pulling as many strings as possible. Maybe Nicole doesn’t even have to find out. I could try to keep her out of it.

  It doesn’t feel right. That’s just lying to her… again.

  I slump down on my office chair and stare at my blank computer screen. I sigh, and finally turn on my computer. Might as well get to work.

  It’s almost eleven in the morning when my office door flies open. I hear my assistant Kelly protesting, but Nicole comes storming through the door anyways.

  “A DUI case? With a woman in the hospital?”

  I stare at her without speaking. My cock throbs under my desk at the sight of her, marching in here guns blazing. It’s wrong, but her anger is so fucking hot. Her dark hair is falling out of her bun, and her cheeks have a spot of red on them.

  But it’s her eyes that are striking. They’re blazing, burning through me as she leans her knuckles on my desk. I’d love to bend her over this desk and fuck the anger right out of her.

  “You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” Her voice is calm, steady, but it has an undercurrent of tension. I hold her gaze for a few moments and then shrug.

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You always have a choice, Martin!”

  “That’s not how life works.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “This is my job, Nicole.”

  “Yes, and you’ve been fucking me for weeks, making me feel like I mean something to you. I just showed you where my husband died, for Christ’s sake! Probably exactly like this poor woman—hit by a drunkard on her way home.”

  “You weren’t hit by a drunk driver.”

  She frowns. “How the fuck would you know?”

  “I… there’s no evidence,” I stammer. I sigh, waving her away. “Look, Carmen gave me the case. Julian is one of the firm’s biggest clients.”

  Her face crumples and she shakes her head. She opens her mouth, but just keeps shaking her head. When she finally does speak, her voice is nothing more than a strained whisper.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  My heart hardens and my blood turns to ice. All the places where Nicole has softened me start to harden again. I shake my head.

  “I have to do my job.”

  “You’ve always chosen your cases. What about the medical misconduct case?”

  “Nicole, grow up!” I explode. “These cases—Julian’s DUI—these are the cases that allow me to take on the ones that actually make a difference. This is about more than justice. It’s about money.”

  She snorts, nodding her head. “It’s always about money, isn’t it? That’s what it all comes down to, in the end.”

  She stares at me for a long moment, and then turns around and walks out. Kelly is standing just outside the door, wide-eyed. I wave to the door.

  “Close that fucking door, will you?”

  She nods without a word and closes me into my office. I exhale loudly, dropping my forehead into my hands. I’ve fucked up.

  Who am I kidding? Taking the case isn’t fucking up. Doing a hit and run was a fuck up! Lying to Nicole by not telling her right away was a fuck up!

  Now what am I supposed to do? If I come clean, I’ll lose everything. I’ll lose my job—I won’t be the youngest partner at the firm anymore, I’ll be the youngest partner to ever get fired. I’ll lose my reputation. I might even get disbarred.

  I’ll lose Nicole.

  What difference would that make? I’m pretty sure I’ve already lost her.

  21

  Nicole

  I’m fuming when I sit back down at my desk. Clarissa, the other paralegal, slides her chair over toward me.

  “You okay?”

  “No.”

  She puts her hand on my shoulder. “Want to go out for a coffee and a talk?”

  I look at her and take a deep, shuddering breath. “No, thanks Clarissa. I… I don’t know what I need right now.”

  She nods. “Okay, well, let me know.”

  I turn back to my computer to try to hide the tears in my eyes. She gets the hint and backs away toward her desk. I sniffle, wiping my eyes. The screen blurs, and I take a deep breath. This is torture. I head for the bathrooms and lock the door. Then, I splash water on my face and take deep, gulping breaths.

  Staring at myself in the mirror for a few seconds, I prepare myself for what I’m about to do. A thousand thoughts fly around my head.

  I need this job—it’s the only reason I can still afford physio. I’m pain-free most days now, and if I give up the job, I might have to give up physio, too.

  I won’t be able to make payments on my bills. I’ll struggle to make rent again. I’ll go back to how life was before, when I was in a deep, dark hole with no way out.

  Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders. I can find a new job. I turn away from the mirror and lean against the counter. I stare at the tiles on the floor, my eyes travelling up and down the lines of grout.

  If I get angry about Martin taking this case but I keep working here, then I’m a hypocrite.

  There’s no other choice.

  I have to quit.

  I can’t reasonably keep working here, when I’ll be working for the people who defend the scumbag that killed Jack. Well, not the exact scumbag, but it might as well be the same thing. People shouldn’t be able to get away with these things.

  A woman is in hospital, and my husband is dead. All because of people like Julian, who thinks he’s above the law.

  My hands shake as I pull out my phone. I dial Jenna and breathe a sigh of relief when she answers.

  “Jenna, I think I need to quit.”

  She’s silent for a beat, and then takes a deep breath. “Okay. Are you sure?”

  “One of their famous clients—Julian, the singer. You know him?”

  “Doesn’t he sing ‘If You Want Me’? I didn’t know he was your client”

  “Yeah, that one. He hit a woman in a DUI. They’re going to defend him and try to get the charges dropped. I just…” My voice cracks. “I can’t be a part of that.”

  “Oh, Nicole,” Jenna sighs. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I just keep thinking about Jack, you know? I drove by the place where he died on Saturday, and I don’t know, maybe it’s just all fresh in my mind. But this Julian prick could have killed the woman! He could have done exactly what happened to me. And he could get away with it! Just like the
guy who killed Jack got away with it.”

  “Oh, Nicole,” Jenna says again. “Oh, babe.”

  I sniffle, covering my eyes with my hand.

  Jenna sighs. “But Nic, if you quit, it doesn’t stop them from defending him. It’ll only hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  “This job has been the best thing that’s happened to you in a year.”

  “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

  “What are you going to do after? Would you find another job? It’s not like law firms aren’t going to take questionable cases.”

  I sigh. “I know, I know. It’s just… Jenna, I’ve been seeing one of the partners. Dating. Or… sleeping with him. I don’t know what it’s been.”

  “Oh, gosh.”

  “Yeah. And I told him about Jack. I showed him the spot where he died, and he still took the case! How am I supposed to work alongside him now? I just…” I sob.

  Jenna sighs over the phone. “Just do what you have to do, Nicole. I’ll always be here for you.”

  I sniffle, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks, Jen.”

  “I’m not asking you right now, because I’m aware of how upset you are, but I’m expecting more details later.”

  I snort-laugh and shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s too embarrassing. God, I was so stupid! I actually thought that he cared about me. He reminded me of Jack, and…”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Nicole.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “I hope you gave him shit for taking the case.”

  “I marched into his office and yelled at him. I was so close to slapping him across the face.”

  “Good. Take the rest of the day off and come over here. I’ll make you some chocolate chip cookies.”

  “You’re such a mom,” I say, shaking my head. “You used to hate baking.”

  “Well, having two kids does, in fact, turn you into a mom.”

  I chew my lip and sigh. “Cookies sound nice.”

  “Come on. I hate hearing you like this. Just leave that horrible place and come here. We can write your letter of resignation together, and then you can give it to your boss tomorrow. Everything will work out.”