by K E Osborn
People pass by apparently not taking any notice of basic strangers kissing as if our lives depended on it. My heart hammers in my chest while my hands grip together around the back of his neck pulling him closer to me. I feel everything. All his muscles, he’s so fit. I understand why he owns gyms because Americano works out. A lot.
His fingers tighten on my hair showing a side of dominance. I have to say it excites me as his other hand gently caresses my lower back, giving me the complete opposite—the sweet guy I’ve also seen from him.
Eli is an enigma, and even though I don’t know him, or anything about him other than basically his name, job, and the fact he’s a damn fine kisser, I want to get to know every single minuscule detail about him. I want to get swept up in him. Swept away by him. I want to see what a future with this mystery man could look like because things like this—chance meetings—don’t happen to women like me. So, if he’s as amazing as he seems right now, I’m going to take this opportunity and run with it.
Eli slowly eases the kiss, and I gently pull back panting for breath. The vigor he’s displaying is as big as he is, and I can’t help but return the gesture. He’s beaming, so he’s feeling this as much as I am.
“Was that too forward of me?” he asks, his fingers gently stroking up and down my arm.
I exhale trying to somehow gain my equilibrium. “Yes…” his smile falls, “… but I liked it anyway.”
Eli smiles, and it touches his eyes. It’s like I’ve said the best thing in the world. Like I’ve reached into his soul making it shine so brightly it’s now radiantly shining just for me.
Eli inhales while steadying his shoulders. “Okay, you have to go. But if you need me to order that stripper-gram for Howard…” he trails off.
I let out a laugh. “I’ll let you know. Thanks for a very pleasant coffee break. It’s one I certainly won’t forget.”
“Here’s to many more. Talk to you soon, Lily.” His deep voice makes my insides quiver.
“Soon, Eli,” I reply, turning again, hoping for him to grab me once more for another intense-as-hell kiss, but I step away without interference this time. My heels click on the pavement, and I slowly step away from Eli. My heart’s hammering in my chest knowing he’s probably watching my ass as I walk. So, to give him something extra to look at, I strut more than usual and with emphasis as I move to the edge of the block.
I shouldn’t turn back.
I don’t want to seem desperate.
Damn! I can’t help myself.
As I get to the end of the street, I peer over my shoulder, and sure enough, he’s standing there watching me. Eli casually sends me a wave and a gorgeous smile. For some reason, I giggle like a damn schoolgirl while waving back to him then I step around the corner. I inhale sharply as I back myself up against the side of the building and take in some much-needed oxygen. “What the hell was that?” I mumble to myself.
A guy on a bicycle zooming past looks at me as if I were talking to him, but he continues riding around the corner from where I just came.
I take a second to let everything sink in.
I’ve just met a man.
A guy who seems like he’s two different people.
A sweet, funny man but a cocky, dominant alpha at the same time.
Who the hell is Eli?
This Americano drinking, gym owner, who kept my attention for a full hour, then swept me off my feet with a kiss to end all kisses. I mean, I’m not that girl—the type who talks to strangers, then kisses them an hour later. That’s simply not me. This is so out of character. Hell, I haven’t had a man in my life since I’ve made it in my career choice. Well, if you could call it that. I just don’t have the damn time for anything even close to more than a one-night stand, and even then, they are few and far between.
Taking a second to gather my running mind, I push off from the wall, then start the short walk back to the office.
Howard’s going to kill me. I know I need to think of some excuse as to why I’m late. I hate lying, but I can’t, in all honesty, tell him I was talking to some random and ended up making out with him in public while I should be working on this new case.
Yeah, that would go down exceptionally well. Not!
I traipse up the stairs to the office, seeing the names printed in gold on the window.
BZC | Burke Zimmerman Caine
Law Firm
Exhaling, I can’t help but wonder if Howard will come through, once this case is over, on his promise of finally taking Burke’s name off the wall since he’s retired and making me a name partner. It’s the only reason I took the case I’m working on. Because right now, being the defense attorney for my current client is killing my mood. The guy’s an ass. He’s one hundred percent guilty, but because apparently, he’s the son of a family friend of Howard Zimmerman, Howard wanted me on the damn case.
Howard knows I’m good, that’s why.
One of the best in his firm.
He also knows I’ll do anything to make name partner. And he also knows that no one else would be stupid enough to take on this case.
I should have known that too.
I should have listened to that voice on my shoulder.
But, making a name for myself in this industry means something to me. My parents nearly had their farm taken from them when I was younger, and we had a hotshot lawyer come in to save the day. That lawyer happens to be Howard Zimmerman.
Watching him swoop in and work his ass off to save my parents’ farm from scrupulous assholes wanting the land, was like nothing I’d ever seen. He was my hero at the time, and I wanted nothing more than to aspire to be like him. So, from that moment, I put everything I had into becoming an attorney. Then, when he hired me as a shit-kicker in his firm, it’s been all about proving myself to him every step of the way.
Even though he’s been a hard taskmaster and mostly an asshole to work for, he does the job, and he does it right. I’m the attorney I am purely because of him because he’s pushed me. And it’s only made me want to do better, to be better, to get my name on the wall alongside his. So, now, I have that chance, but the only problem is that it’s with a practically unwinnable case.
The odds are stacked against me. I need to find the inner strength to want to fight for my client. Because if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s spotting a liar, and my client is one hell of a storyteller.
Inhaling, I push the door open and stroll inside the busy building. Tania, the main office receptionist, smiles at me in greeting as I stroll past her toward my office. Hopefully, or should I say with a bit of luck, I can dodge anyone who might have noticed I was gone for too long.
Walking hastily, my heels click on the tiled floor as I rush to my office. Finally, I make it to the door, push it open, only to see Howard sitting in my chair with his silvering hair styled in its usual way atop his oval face. His frown lines etch deep within the normal age lines which adorn his chocolate complexion. He’s tired, his eyes drooping from endless nights of working harder than most. He’s getting too old for this. But one thing I am sure of is that Howard will never retire. He will work himself into an early grave. The impeccable suit which adorns his body is tailored to perfection. He slumps back in my chair watching me as I slowly walk in. His eyes tell me how disappointed he is before he even says anything.
Taking a deep breath, I close the door behind me and sigh. “Howard—”
“You know, Delilah… I took you in because I saw something in you. Passion, commitment, a drive to work harder than most who I’ve employed in all the years before me. I saw myself in you.” I shrink a little as he talks. “I know this promotion means everything to you, but I need to see a tangible effort.”
I walk toward my desk. “I know, Howard. This new case is a big one. I have to put my thoughts aside to work for this client. But it’s hard being a woman and—”
“Delilah! Being a woman doesn’t come into play here. I’ve taught you better than this. Quite honestly, you should kn
ow that by now. You’re an attorney. Gender doesn’t play a part. You defend the client whether you believe him to be innocent or not. Innocence or guilt plays no role in your job. It’s quite simple… get him off those charges. That’s why he hired us. Can you do that, Delilah? Or do I need to pull you from this case?”
Steadying my shoulders, I stand taller. “Yes. You know I can do it.”
He rolls the chair backward, then stands. “Good. Remember what’s on the line. You win, your name goes on the wall. You don’t win, it doesn’t. Quite simple really. I believe in you, Delilah. I always have. Don’t take breaks longer than necessary. I know you need to get out sometimes, clear your head, but right now every minute you waste is a minute which could’ve been spent figuring this shit out. Get. Him. Off!”
I dip my head as he rounds my desk.
“We have a briefing in ten minutes. You damn well better be prepared. I don’t know what you were doing in the hour you were gone, and I don’t care. Just know, I won’t have my employees fucking about, Delilah. Even you.”
“Got it! Won’t happen again.”
He moves past me and heads for the door. I clench my eyes tight, inwardly berating myself for taking so long with Eli. Even though it was the best hour I’ve had in an extremely long time.
“And Delilah…” I spin to face him, “… you should have checked your lipstick before you waltzed back in here. It’s smudged.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. No wonder he’s reaming my ass. My hand shoots up to my mouth to cover it. A faint smirk crosses his lips, then Howard turns to walk out of my office.
He closes the door behind him with a strong click. My entire body sags as I rush behind my desk pulling out a handheld mirror. I bring it up and sure enough, my lip gloss is smeared across my mouth. I inwardly groan with an exasperated roll of my eyes. “Good work, Lily!”
I wipe it away, then fall onto my chair and slump back on the seat. “What the hell are you doing?” I groan to myself.
For a start, I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t tell Eli I’m an attorney. Sometimes, when men meet a woman in a high position, they can become intimidated. I wanted Eli to like me for me, I suppose. So, Eli knowing I’m more than just some secretary could have had him wanting to walk off. It seems ridiculous when I think about it now. How could I meet someone, spend an hour with him, and then like him this much? Perhaps this is what they call insta-like or something. I know I’ve read about it in those romance novels I flick through when I have time. It all seems a little childish to me, but for some reason that I simply can’t comprehend right now, I like Eli, and him knowing I’m an attorney might have turned him off.
I wanted one moment for him to treat me normally, and he did. Sure, I told him a little white lie, but what harm could that do? I know I’ll eventually have to tell him if we continue, but for now, he can think I’m some kind of whizz-bang secretary.
Glancing down, the unopened case file is on my desk. The title stands out like a beacon in amongst all the other paperwork.
Raphael Acosta:
Aggravated Sexual Assault
I can’t help but wonder how a man like Raphael and his family can be known to a law-abiding citizen like Howard Zimmerman. It does my head in wondering why Howard would allow us to take on a client like this. I mean, sure I’ve had many clients with this charge, and I’m certain they have been guilty, but for some reason this one is different.
I met with Raphael briefly after he was arrested last night. And from that very brief encounter, I could tell he’s a lying, opinionated, entitled scumbag.
Raphael told me the woman he’s supposed to have sexually assaulted was totally into it. She wanted him. They were in it together. Then when he didn’t want to take things to the next level, she started lashing out, becoming violent toward him. He had to push her to the ground, and that’s how she hit her head. His exact words, ‘She’s a club girl for the local biker club in town. She can’t possibly be seen as reliable.’
I see right through the creepy bastard. The flaw in his statement. Then there are the witnesses. Plus, the security footage. True, the footage is dark, so you can’t see the details of Raphael’s face enough to prove it’s him, but it certainly doesn’t corroborate his version of events. Plus, his gang affiliations don’t work in his favor. Raphael is guilty, of that I am one hundred percent sure. And, somehow, if I want this promotion, I need to find a way to make him appear innocent or get him a lighter sentence. And that shit doesn’t sit well with me.
I became an attorney to assist people, to do good, not to help the pure evil of this world. Sure, I’ve had to do it in the past, but it’s all wearing a bit thin. When I started out, it was all about helping the innocent, using the law to find a way to make sure they didn’t pay for a crime they didn’t commit. But, I soon realized this world I’m in, it’s not about the innocent at all. It’s all about getting the guilty off their charges. It’s all about how much money you have, connections you have, and winning at all costs. The partners are all about winning cases, and I get that because I need to make a name for myself. Only problem is it’s everything that’s abhorrent to me.
I used to think we could win cases based on people’s innocence. Now, it’s all about guilty assholes getting off scot-free. When I first got out of law school, I sought out Howard. I wanted nothing more than to work for the man who singlehandedly saved my family. It wasn’t until I started working as a paralegal that I realized it wasn’t a one-man show. Howard had associates working my family’s case for him, and it was then he came in to deliver the killer blows.
Howard wasn’t the knight I thought he was.
Sure, he’s damn good at what he does. He’s the best closer this side of Illinois. But I finally got to see what this attorney thing was all about.
Me? I’ve had to work my way up from paralegal, to associate, to partner. I did it all quite quickly considering I was Howard’s shining star—the child who saw him in action and decided to be just like him. Though I knew within the first three months, I wanted to be a different kind of attorney than Howard is.
I wanted to do good.
To work for change.
To make things better.
But to get to where I need to be, I had to earn my place. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost sight of that. I’ve gotten hungry for the accolades, the successes. But that ache, that feeling deep in my gut that tells me the work I’m doing, the people I’m defending, they aren’t always on the right side of the law.
And that shit makes me just as fucking guilty as them.
I am no saint.
I don’t claim to be.
I have a moral compass, and for the longest time it’s been heading south.
I want to change the direction my path is heading.
I just don’t know how.
Suddenly, a text flashes on my cell breaking me from my deep thoughts.
Eli: Was great meeting you Vanilla Latte, hope to catch up with you soon…
I can’t help the slow smile spreading across my face. It’s like he knew I needed a pick-me-up.
Me: You will, Americano. You will. Have a fantastic rest of the day.
He doesn’t reply, so I grab the file that honestly burns my fingers and makes my heart race. I pull in a deep breath and move off to the meeting, where I need to figure out how the hell I’m going to defend a man I really don’t want to but have no choice but to.
HAYLEY
I need to be stronger than this.
I am stronger than this.
I can’t seem to pull myself from this funk I’m in. Currently, I’m curled up under the comforter on my bed.
I’m hot.
Far too hot, covered in full pajamas, head to toe, with the blankets surrounding me as much as damn possible. It’s my safe haven. I guess in my mind if I cover my body as much as possible, it will hide the shame I feel. That may be because of who I am, this life I lead, that perhaps in my mind I deserved what happened to me.
In the eyes of the world I’m nothing but a whore, so why not treat me like one. Right? My eyes begin to water, my body trembling as I clench my eyes tight. Flashes of his hands gripping onto my body so tight my skin bruises, flood my brain. I shudder thinking how my brain fogged in and out, but I could still see him.
I knew what he was doing.
I could feel everything.
I simply didn’t have the strength to stop him.
What does that say about me?
That I’m weak?
I sniffle, wiping my face as a tear slides down my flushed cheek. I hear the door creak open, and my head shoots out from under the comforter to see who’s coming inside my room. My heart leaps into my throat. Dammit, I’ve been on fucking edge ever since that night.
“It’s just me, babe,” Vibe offers in a soft, kind voice as he closes the door behind him.
I wish he’d leave me alone.
I know he’s trying to help, but his constant attention is driving me insane. I don’t need his sympathy. I certainly don’t deserve it. I can’t understand why he’s even trying to be honest.
I roll over in the bed, turning my back to him. A loud exhale sounds from deep in his chest as I feel his hand drop to my shoulder.
My entire body charges with adrenaline. I jolt up, sliding away from him abruptly, my heart hammering so damn fast I feel like I can’t breathe.
Vibe’s hands shoot up in the air in surrender as he stands from the bed taking a step back. “Shit! I’m sorry, Hayley. I’m trying here. What can I do? Tell me what to do?”
I love him. I know I do. But I don’t know how to be near Vibe anymore.
My bottom lip trembles as I reach for the comforter, pulling it up around me for protection.
