by Diana Nixon
At this point, I didn’t mind being intoxicated by her. Too bad she was different from my previous assistants. Or maybe Molly was right after all, and I did need a good one, for a change.
“I also want you to read the case I’ll be presenting in court tomorrow,” I said, trying to switch my thoughts from her to my work.
“What for?” It was the first time that she turned her head and looked at me.
God, was she stunning…
With the light falling from the lamp above the table, her gray eyes sparkled with magic that spellbound me. Thick black lashes emphasized their almond shape, adding a little bit of mystery to her appearance. I liked the cold she met my stare with. It made my desire to start a fire inside her even harder to suppress.
“Sir?”
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“Why do you want me to read the case files?”
“Right...Um...I’d like to hear what you think about it.”
She looked surprised. “You want to hear my opinion?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm…”
“Hmm? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’m surprised to know you care about someone’s opinion but your own.”
With my hands in my pockets, I kept watching her, not sure why I suddenly wanted to hear what she thought about the case I’d been working on for almost half a year. The spouses seemed to be unable to agree on anything but how much they hated each other. After almost twenty years of marriage.
“Tell me something, Mr. Cohen…” Olivia stood up and walked closer to me. “Why don’t you believe in marriage?”
“Who told you I don’t believe in marriage?”
“From what I’ve heard about you, you break marriages so easily, as if they were porcelain cups. Do you even care about the feelings the two people used to have for each other when they decided to get married in the first place?”
“The only marriage I believe in is the one my parents share. As for your question about the feelings - I’m sure if people come asking for my help, their former feelings for each other no longer matter. Otherwise, they would have tried to save their family and not die trying to ruin it in a court room.”
“But do you ever talk to them about the reasons for their desire to go separate ways?”
“I’m not a family head shrinker. I can’t help them fix what’s broken.”
“How do you know it’s broken if you never ask why they want to get a divorce?”
I didn’t like her questions. As well as people telling me that I was wrong. And even though she didn’t say the very word, I knew she meant just that.
“My job is to help them get what they both want. If they want separate houses, I’m here to make it happen.”
My response seemed to disappoint her. Not that I wanted to impress her or make her believe I was God in family law. But I didn’t like the thoughtfulness in her eyes, as well as the judgement that screamed louder than anything else. What was she thinking? I desperately wanted to know it.
She stayed quiet for a few minutes, no less. “I see…” Something changed in her expression, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Is there anything else that you’d like me to write down?” She didn’t wait for my response, but went back to the desk and took a seat.
“Yes. I want you to remember a few things about me - I hate my secretary to be late for work. I want my coffee to be hot and sweet. I hate green, and I never answer calls while in a meeting with my clients. Unless it’s urgent, of course.”
She nodded and made the needed notes.
“And one more thing, Olivia - I’m a very withdrawn person. Which means personal questions are off your limits.”
“Limits…” She smirked. “I thought you had none.”
“You are right - I have none when it comes to asking women to help me take off my pants or for me to push up their skirts. But when it comes to my personal life, I don’t want anyone to nose into it.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Cohen. I don’t give a damn whose skirts you push up. And if you want to do it here, I’ll make the music in the waiting room louder to block out the noises.” She stood up again. “Is that all?”
“Yes. For now.” Though at the mention of the noises, I suddenly wanted to listen to those she made when her skirt was up…
“Good.” She started to walk to the door, but then she stopped. “Would you like a cup of coffee, sir?”
There was an unhidden scoff playing in her eyes, even though there was no smile on her shining with a soft shade of pink lips.
“Yes, please. Hope it doesn’t end up on my pants again.”
“I’ll try to serve you the best I can.”
Smart. And fucking hot.
“Good. If I’m on the phone, just leave the cup on my desk.”
She left, and I stared at the closed door, replaying the conversation we just had. It left a very unpleasant aftertaste. If it was just about food, I would wash it down with a drink. But it was something else… As if in less than ten minutes, Olivia Lambert managed to get under my skin deep enough to dig up everything I was hiding within. She saw it, she touched it and took a part of it with her, making me want to build a fence around myself, so that no other woman would ever see the inside of my carefully protected world. My self-preservation instinct told me I needed to be careful with Olivia. Especially when it came to something I tried so hard to control my whole life - feelings...
Chapter 3
Olivia
Every time my best friend’s smile flashed on the screen of my phone, I knew this call would never be a quick one. Parker O’Neal was one of those women who knew everything about everyone, including me. Which, in most cases, she successfully used against me.
“Hello?” I said, answering the call.
“How was your first day at work? Hope the dress I helped you choose did its best.”
“Absolutely. At least during the first five minutes of my meeting with my new boss. Then I accidentally spilled coffee on his pants, and he hardly cared if the dress I was wearing at that moment was good or bad.”
“You did not…” She laughed. “Poor thing… Did he fire you?”
“No. But he was very close to doing just that.”
“But you still have your job, and I’m sure it’s all thanks to the dress after all. Because if you put on that terrible suit you were going to wear originally, you would be looking for a new job tomorrow.”
“Maybe you are right.” I still believed that Leonel let me stay not because he liked my dress. The impressions of my first day at work were contradicting. Mr. Cohen was so different from the man my sister used to date. Despite how little she told me about him, I thought I would see someone less…perfect. But I could definitely see why she fell so hopelessly in love with him.
“How old is he?” Parker asked.
“Thirty something. I guess.”
“Hot?”
“I didn’t get a chance to figure it out,” I lied. The picture I found in Winter’s closet didn’t give enough credit to the man I met in reality. The real Leonel Cohen was quite attractive. No, scratch that, he was very attractive. No, wrong word again. Super-hot? Panty-dropping hot? Yeah, much better now. No wonder my sister lost her mind over him. She always fell for the wrong guys. Only this time, the guy wasn’t just wrong, he was also dangerous and gorgeous in a very masculine way. The darkness of his eyes and hair made him look a little severe. Confidence was everywhere around him: in his every gesture and word. He possessed the kind of energy that made you stop whatever you were busy doing and just glare at him. It radiated from his gaze and got right through you, as if he knew exactly what door to open to see the inside of you. It was a little disarming, because in my case, I needed to be in full control of what I was thinking when around him. But the mere look of his eyes was enough to turn my every thought into a disaster. And that was not what I was looking for. At least, not with Leonel.
“What’s his name again?” Parker
asked.
“I didn’t give it to you.”
“Then give it to me now. I need to know about your chances with him.”
“His name’s Leonel Cohen and I’m not going to try my chances with him. All I want is to have a well-paid job and fortunately, I now have it in his firm.”
“Holly balls…”
“What?”
“And just don’t say you didn’t notice he’s a walking trigger. One wrong move and your panties will get ripped faster than you can say ‘no’ to him.”
I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to lose my panties over him.”
“Why not?”
“First of all – because I don’t have time for it. And second – because I’m not interested.”
“Bullshit. When was the last time that you lost your panties over a guy? Correct – never! Why? Because you never let your guard down. That’s why I’m seriously worried you’re gonna die a virgin my friend.”
“Spare me your smart-ass comments, Parker. We both know what you just mentioned is not going to happen. I have had plenty of dates in my life.”
“Your high school dates don’t count. They happened forever ago. Besides, I’m sure they were nothing compared to what Mr. Eat Me Now could offer you.”
Anger boiled inside me. I didn’t like the way this conversation was going. Leonel Cohen and I – in the same bed – was not going to happen, ever. But Parker didn’t know about the real reasons for my sudden desire to work for him, and I preferred it to stay that way. It was a solo game, and I wanted nothing more than to win it.
“I gotta go,” I said. “Bella needs me.”
She sighed into the phone. “You can be so boring, Liv! At times I don’t understand what made us become besties.”
I chuckled. “Dancing and margaritas.”
“Exactly! We haven’t mixed them in what feels like forever. How about next Friday night?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. Will call you later. Take care!”
“You too.”
I hung up the phone and looked at Bella, who was busy drawing, sitting on the floor next to her bed. I moved closer and looked at the picture she was working on.
“Who’s that?” I pointed to the lonely figure in a boat.
“It’s my dad.”
“Why is he alone?”
“Because he can’t find me.” She looked at me and said, “Do you think I will ever see him again?” There was so much hope in her gaze. My heart sank.
“Again? I thought you never met your father.”
“I don’t remember seeing him. But mom once said he was very happy to see me the day I was born.”
What?
“He saw you the day you were born?”
Bella nodded and continued working on her drawing.
Now that was news to me. A new wave of anger hit me.
I couldn’t believe Leonel dumped Winter right after he met his newborn daughter. Until this very moment I was sure he ran away when my sister told him she was pregnant. But if he saw his daughter and then left as if she never happened in his life at all, he could never be forgotten.
I clenched my teeth and looked away from Bella’s drawing.
“Did I do something wrong?” She always noticed every small change in my mood.
“No.” I smiled at her. “But it’s been a long day, and I really need to rest before I go back to work tomorrow.”
“Is Rose gonna stay with me again?”
“Yes. And you’re gonna be a good girl with her. Right?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t look like I have a choice.”
After that, I helped her clean the room and take away her toys and pencils, before she would go to the bathroom to brush her teeth and get ready for bed.
Meanwhile, there was something very important I needed to do before tomorrow.
I made sure Bella was asleep and went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea with lemon. Then I returned to my room and dug into the files that were supposed to help me destroy my boss.
The first thing that I read about him was his daily routine. Turned out Mr. Cohen had a sweet tooth and he didn’t care if too much sugar was not good for his health. He woke up at six in the morning, went for a morning run, then took a contrast shower and then had a big cup of sweet coffee. He had never been late for work and hated it when something didn’t go as planned. Even his dates were scheduled to the minute, and he never did anything that was not written in his schedule.
His sexual life was eventful, though. His so-called assistants were as if scanned and printed – same looking brunets, tall, slim and not very clever. He loved mixing work and pleasures, but it wasn’t news to me anymore. Thanks to Molly, I knew our boss had ‘weaknesses’. Though he never slept with any of his real co-workers. There was a paragraph in everyone’s job contract forbidding any sexual relationships between the employees. Leonel never hired spouses, because he thought that personal life and work can never coexist in the same office. His personal life was a different thing. It had nothing to do with his work. Just sex and nothing else.
Apart from work, there were very few things that my boss cared about: his family, his German shepherd named Rex and a collection of glass swords that he kept in his office.
He had never been married or in a relationship that lasted longer than a couple of short dates. He was a huge fan of Queen and hated modern pop music. As well as green color, Chinese food and honey – which was a surprise, considering he had a sweet tooth.
When he was sixteen, his father bought him his very first camera and Leonel started taking pictures of everything he saw around him. But most of all, he liked portrait pictures and…the pictures of naked women.
I wondered if he ever took pictures of Winter. The thought planted an unpleasant feeling in my chest. More anger ran through my veins.
I took a deep breath and returned to my reading.
The last page of the file was the most interesting one. It was a set of rules that Leonel made for all of his dates:
Never say ‘no’ to what he wanted them to do in bed.
Never stay for the night.
Never ask about his family.
Never call him.
Never tell their friends about him.
Never ask about the next date.
In short, the man was a disaster in every meaning of the word. Except, he was the father of my niece and despite how much I wanted him to pay for leaving her and Winter alone, I also wanted Bella to have a dad.
I sighed. That last thing seemed to be impossible. For now. But who knows, maybe one day she and Winter will become a family again and maybe my sister will find someone better than the man who doesn’t believe in marriage or is ready to become a father.
I shut the folder and showed it into my bedside table, too tired of reading about my boss.
Tomorrow was going to be a new day, with a new chance to show him how little I cared about the rules that seemed to be following his every step. With me, none of them was gonna work and he would have to get used to it.
***
The morning turned out to be hell on earth. My boss was in a crappy mood, and it looked like I was the only person in the world responsible for it. Or maybe he wanted to fire me as soon as possible and thought that barking at me was the fastest way to make me leave.
“I want her out of my house!” His client shouted so loud I could hear him even through the closed door of Leonel’s office. I stepped closer to the door and listened carefully.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Morgan, your wife will have to move out of your house,” Leonel said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t want her to get a penny of my outcomes.”
“I know. I’ll take care of that too.”
“And I want her to give me back the wedding ring. It costed me a fortune.”
Bastard, I thought to myself.
“Of course,” my boss said. “Anything else?”
“
Yes – I want her to apologize.”
“For what?”
“I gave her everything she wanted, and she failed to meet my expectations as a wife. I want a compensation for moral injury.”
Double bastard. Did he even know what morals were?
Leonel spoke again, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Unbelievable. Did he really just tell him he would make the client’s poor wife pay for not being as good as he wanted her to be?
“I knew I could rely on you, Mr. Cohen,” the client said, obviously pleased.
“Always.”
They talked some more and then the client left, blessing me with what I guess he thought was his most charming smile.
Fucking idiot. One look at him was enough to know he was a monster. I felt really sorry for the woman he was about to divorce. I read his case, and I knew she’d never been rich or famous to stand against him. She was about to lose this battle, and there was nothing I could do to help her.
But there was something I could do right now and even if it wasn’t going to help Mrs. Morgan, it would make me feel so much better about this shitty day.
“Your coffee, sir,” I said, entering Leonel’s office.
He typed something on his laptop and shut it down. “Thanks. Have you told my driver we are leaving in half an hour?”
“Yes.” I put the tray with a cup on his desk and took a few steps back, knowing he would most likely want to throw it at me.
He took the cup and sipped some coffee...
Just to spit it out the next second. “What the fuck?”
“What’s wrong?” I made the most innocent face ever.
He slammed the cup against the saucer, spilling a good part of its contents all around his desk, and crossed the distance between us in three steps. “What was that for?”
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Mr. Cohen.”
