“Any favorites?”
“Godiva and Lindt. Prestat and Montezuma. Pierre Marcolini. Milène Jardine.”
“But you knew you could do better.” There’s a gleam in his eye that makes me smile.
“I hope I can. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. I’ve always admired the miniature artistic masterpieces that emerge from a box.”
He nods like he appreciates and understands my words. “Did you go to culinary school?”
“College wasn’t for me, so I decided to go learn from the ground up. I’ve worked in Paris and Belgium, New York and here, in Philadelphia.”
“Do you speak French?”
“Oui.”
“Azez-vous un café préféré à Paris?”
I bite my lip as I try to think of my favorite café in Paris, which is what he just asked. There was one, an impressive pastry cart with rich hot chocolate that was so thick that the spoon slowed with every stir.
“Les Deux Magots. Les déserts étaient magnifiques,” I reply and then add, “You speak French beautifully, by the way.”
“You’re kind, but I know it’s rusty. I’m better at Spanish. I learned French in high school and took Español in college. It comes in handy in my line of work more than French does.”
“What do you do when you’re not saving the world one wrong at a time? Impressionnant,” I say in French.
“I’m not the impressive one. You’re the one who has followed her dreams by traveling the world and running your own business. I’m captivated.”
“Do you mean, you’re more like shocked that the woman who texted you on accident, telling you off, isn’t a mental patient?”
“I told you, I wanted to see if you were as charming as I hoped.”
“You mean, crazy.”
“I mean, enrapturing. You, Amy, have surpassed everything I could have ever imagined you’d be. More than anything, I’m glad I offered to meet you for coffee the next day.”
His charm is impossible to shy away from. Sebastian Blake is easy on the eyes and easier to talk to.
“I know you run marathons and have Duke. What else makes you tick?”
“That’s like opening Pandora’s box.” He raises his eyebrows as he takes a sip of his beer.
“I still have half a drink, and I’m open to getting a second. I’m here for the box. Open the box, Sebastian.” I use my most jovial yet tempting voice.
“Okay. Well, I love documentaries and am an avid History Channel buff. If it’s a film, I’m a sucker for anything where someone has to overcome an obstacle. Rocky and Rudy being two of my favorites.”
“Rocky is a town legend. Even if he is fictional.”
“Don’t knock it. That movie is a classic. Plus, I might have taken a picture in front of the Rocky statue outside the museum.”
“That is the most charming thing about you.” I grin as I lean in a little closer.
“Okay, so that’s what you’re looking for? Anecdotes that aren’t so flattering?”
“Your buck-tooth story is the reason I hired you as my attorney,” I say with a shrug, not afraid to admit it.
“The can-opener story impressed you?”
“What can I say? I, too, am a sucker for someone who has to overcome an obstacle,” I use his words and mean every single one of them.
“More embarrassing things about me then …”
He grins, and it’s the cutest thing ever. If I wasn’t sure if this was a date or not, I definitely am now. His flirting is apparent and almost unnerving. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone be so obvious with their feelings toward me. I like it.
He continues, “I sprained my ankle last year, so my mother sent me one of those adult coloring books. It has profanity words engraved in lotus flowers and rainbows. I’ve definitely finished more pages than any man would care to admit. Is that charming?”
“Forget charming. That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard,” I say with a chuckle.
“Then, this is going to drive you wild. I know how to sew.”
I place my hand on my chest and fake a sexual pant. “Do go on.”
“As an only child, my mother made me do everything with her. Sewing the holes in my socks was one of my chores. I happen to have a perfect stitch.” He shakes his head from side to side, acting hoity-toity.
I laugh but not at him. I’m laughing because I enjoy him. Sebastian is fun and sweet. His stories are cute, as is the way he smiles more on one side of his mouth than the other, showing off that dimple.
He calls the waitress over and gets us another round. We continue our talks and jokes. When I’m halfway through my second drink, I get the liquid courage to ask the question I’ve secretly been wanting to ask.
“How is a man as handsome, successful, and captivating as you single?”
“You think I’m captivating?”
I like that he called out that adjective instead of the others. He clearly knows how he looks in the mirror, and his reputation precedes him. But his personality … that is what makes him feel good.
“Devilishly charming. And swoonworthy. You have a way about you. Sorry if that comes off strong. I merely meant to pay you a compliment.”
“Don’t apologize. I love how authentic you are. You say what you feel.”
“Too much so sometimes, unfortunately.”
“Only because you asked, I’m recently single. I was seeing a woman, but we called it quits about three months ago. Our split was amicable though. It just didn’t work out. No love lost. I wish her the best, as I know she does me.”
“Couldn’t have been a long relationship.”
“About six months. But it wasn’t like what you had with Hardin. We dated and had fun, but the relationship ran its course. She said she wanted to see other people, and I was okay with letting her go.”
“That sounds so simple.”
“It is when you’re not in love.”
“Have you ever been in love before?”
“Yes. At least, I thought I was. We all do when we’re young. As you get older, you stop looking for the insta-love—lust that comes with an incredible high. I don’t want the kind of love that comes with conditions. Places we need to go and people we need to be with in order to be a couple. I work too hard in the office to have to work for my relationship image. I just want to meet someone I can sit at a table with, alone, have some drinks and great conversation, and even share a few laughs.”
“That sounds wonderful. But that sounds more like a friend.”
He shrugs. “Maybe that’s what I’m looking for. A woman who is my best friend, who lets me take her home when the sun goes down and ravage her in the bedroom until the sun comes up.”
My cheeks heat, and my belly tightens just as the waitress brings us the bill, breaking our little trance.
I look at my watch, suddenly more nervous than I should be. “It’s getting late. I have to get up early and put a favor order together. A hundred boxes for a wedding at the library.”
“I’ll get you a car,” he says as he pulls out his card, slides it in the billfold, and hands it to the waitress.
“No, it’s okay. I can walk.”
“It’s cold, and you’re alone. I’ll call you a car,” he insists as he pulls out his phone and taps something on it.
After the waitress brings him back his card and he signs the slip, we walk out to the curb, where a black town car is waiting. He opens the back door, and the scent of leather rolls out of the luxury mobile.
“Thank you for the drinks. This was a great idea.” I smile as I fidget with my purse.
“Thank you for dinner. You made my day.”
I step into the car, but he says my name, halting my movement.
“Amy, can I call you? I mean, not as your attorney?”
“You’re not on the clock anymore, so yes, I would like that.”
The smile that crosses his face is like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Good night, Amy.”
&nb
sp; “Stay well, Mr. Blake.”
Chapter Six
When Sebastian said he’d call, I didn’t expect my phone to ding the next day, so I’m pretty surprised when I get a text message from him while packing up my wedding order.
I’m sitting here with a gorgeous box of chocolate and wondering if ten a.m. is too early to indulge. Thought I’d ask the expert.
I pick up my phone, my heart beating faster all of a sudden. I can’t help the grin on my face as I turn around, lean on the counter, and text back.
It is never too early for decadence.
You have my permission. ;-)
I’m officially spoiled.
You’ve ruined chocolate for me for eternity.
I’m happy to support your habit.
Just don’t tell anyone who your dealer is.
My lips are sealed.
I had a great time last night.
Me too.
I believe there’s man code that states I should wait three days before asking you out, but I’m not one to follow such rules. Have dinner with me.
Are you asking or telling?
Eagerly awaiting …
It’s refreshing to text with a man who is confident enough not to play games or be coy. He sees what he likes and goes for it. He texts again before I can respond.
I’m working late this week on a big case and want to make plans with you before I get too busy to ask. Are you available next Friday?
You’re sweet. Next Friday sounds great.
Then, it’s a date.
I set down my phone and look up, only to see Shawn staring at me with a raised eyebrow.
“What?” I ask and then turn around to get back to work, not really wanting him to answer.
“Hot date?” He walks over to me and leans against the counter, so he’s facing me.
I normally don’t discuss my personal life with Shawn even though I know his entire life, but Charity was at work last night, and I’m dying to tell someone about my date.
“Yes, actually.” I blush, and I feel it all the way to my toes.
“Lawyer?”
“Yes. We went out after he helped me get out of my lease, and he just asked me out again.”
“Damn, girl. Look at you. Getting the attention of some high-class attorney. When’s the date?”
“Next Friday.” I turn to head into my office to grab the address I’m supposed to mail these to even though I don’t need it right this second. I just don’t want to hear—
“As in next week?” He follows me into the office.
I try to act nonchalant. “Yes, he has a busy schedule, and he said he wanted to—”
“Pencil you in?”
“Oh, stop. I think it’s considerate and cute. He wanted to make sure he had something to look forward to since he’s working on a big case.”
“Interesting plan. He keeps the girls waiting and wanting more. Do you think I could get away with that? Maybe say I have a huge order we need to get out?”
I laugh. “Sorry, Shawn. No one will believe chocolate is that busy of a job, no matter how much I want it to be.”
Shawn was right when he said having the date planned that far out would keep me waiting and wanting more. Every day, I looked at the calendar, counting down the nights until I got to see him again. I swear it was the longest week of my life.
Now that it’s Friday, I can’t wait until tonight. I haven’t been this excited for a day to come since I was a little girl, waiting on Christmas to arrive.
Sebastian texted late last night, saying he was at work but wanted to make sure we were still on. When I responded, I got so giddy that I had to make myself a drink to calm down my excitement.
Then, he called this morning, saying to be ready by six and he’d pick me up to go to Ocean Prime—the fanciest steak house in the city.
I’m wearing my sexiest red dress with black pumps and a necklace that draws attention to my décolletage—one of my favorite parts of my body.
Not wanting to explain having to go through the gym or have him walk through the alley, I decide to wait out front for him to arrive.
An exotic black car pulls up. The purr of the engine is so low that it’s almost silent. I glance in to see Sebastian putting it in park and unbuckling his seat belt before hopping out. Since he’s not expecting me to be standing here, he’s caught off guard, and he stops in his tracks when he sees me.
The expression on his face is one I’ve only seen in movies. Those chocolate eyes move down my body like silk coating my skin. From my shoulders, down the curve of my waist, and over my hips, lowering from one leg to the other, all with pure appreciation of the person standing in front of him.
And that person is me.
“You look amazing,” he says breathlessly.
A grin spreads across my face. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
I reach out my hand and lightly tug on the blue designer button-up that fits his body like a glove. Sebastian has always presented himself well, but in this shirt, I can see the definition of his broad chest, fit torso, and the curve of his biceps.
He escorts me to the passenger side and opens the door like a true gentleman.
“What kind of car is this?” I ask as I slide in. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“A BMW i8. It’s fully electric and a blast to drive.”
He shuts the door and heads over to the driver’s side as I take in the high-tech interior.
As he buckles his seat belt, he grins in my direction. “So glad we set this up early. Seeing you again is the one thing that helped get me through the trial this week.”
I instantly blush again. He has a way of making me do that. He’s so sweet and honest. Those are rare traits, and I like it.
“I hope this doesn’t ruin the night, but did you win?”
He glances at me out the side of his eye. A devilish smirk crosses his face. “At the risk of sounding like an egomaniac … abso-fucking-lutely.”
I laugh out loud. “Good for you. Now, we have something to celebrate.”
He lifts my hand and kisses my knuckle. His warm mouth presses firmly to my skin, sending a wave of excited chills up my arm and straight down the front of my body. I might let out a tiny quiver that I can’t hide.
“I’d like that,” he says, releasing my hand and putting the car in drive.
A few minutes later, we pull up to the corner restaurant made of brick, and my mouth salivates. I’ve only heard of this place but never treated myself to a meal here.
I open my door, and Sebastian walks around the car to join me, instantly intertwining his fingers with mine as we head toward the entrance. I try to hide the way it affects me, but inside, I’m a twelve-year-old girl, holding hands with her crush.
The place is bustling with people at tables and lining the bar. Elegance drips from every corner, and I’m glad I chose this dress, as I feel like I fit in here perfectly even though I’m currently sleeping on a futon and living out of my office, which has been making me feel like a vagabond lately.
“Two for Blake,” Sebastian says as we approach the hostess station.
“Yes, Mr. Blake. We have your table ready. Right this way,” the hostess responds as she grabs two menus.
He motions for me to go first, and I follow her through the restaurant to a private table near the window.
I take my seat as Sebastian takes his, and the waitress hands us our menus. After we order some drinks, our conversation continues with ease. This time, I get to learn some more about him.
“Since my father was a surgeon, as a kid, I used to sit in his office after school and shadow him. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps badly.”
“Didn’t have the stomach for slicing and dicing?”
“Actually, I wanted to be an actor.” He takes a sip of his drink.
“Really? Are we talking Shakespearean plays, toothpaste commercials, or full-on Timothée Chalamet?”
“More like Michael B. Jordan action kind of
stuff. That guy is an amazing actor and has the kind of career I would have wanted. He was the new Rocky after all.”
“Agreed. He’s also really hot.” I cheers and take a sip of my drink. “What made you give up on the acting dream?”
“I joined the debate team in high school for extra credit and found I was just as good with arguing in public as I was with reciting lines. In college, my mother encouraged me to take prelaw classes to see how I’d do. I figured they’d help me in the days when I starred on Law & Order.”
“Because every actor starts out with a role on Law & Order.”
“Exactly. I quickly learned that I really liked studying casework. I found it was easy to understand and challenging enough to make me want to get better. Conducting a deposition or giving an opening argument is very much like acting. You read from a script and put in the right amount of emotion to get your point across and be convincing. When you’re onstage, you should know how to improvise in case something goes wrong. Same with the courtroom. You have to have enough legal research in your brain to be able to spew it off the cuff to counter an argument. It’s challenging and fun, if you’re doing it right.”
“That’s an incredible way to compare the two.”
“Both crafts take late nights, rehearsals, and research. They’re just different disciplines.”
“And the pro bono work?”
“That’s a bonus. My mother taught me to be generous. To be a good man, you should help someone else in need even if that means having less for yourself.”
My teeth skim my lower lip as I take him in. Illegally handsome face, easy smile, and a personality that’s flawless. I like what I’m seeing and what I’m hearing. A lot.
“Now that you won your big case, who will you help next?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll get a text message that inspires me.”
That makes me laugh.
Instead of entrées, we select five appetizers to share as our conversation continues.
Loyal Lawyer: A Standalone Novel Page 5
