“No, I’m okay, thank you,” I say, taking a seat in one of the guest chairs.
“Mr. Blake will be right with you.”
It’s quiet in here. So quiet that I can hear my heart pulsing in my eardrums. I might not have wanted Sebastian’s help, but now that there’s a real possibility I can get Lady Featherington back, I’m a wreck. Before, it felt like she wasn’t with me only because Hardin was a douche. If I lose her today and she becomes his permanently, I’ll be devastated.
As I sit by myself, something catches my attention. In the adjacent conference room, Hardin is standing by a high-backed leather chair. As he faces me, I sit up straight. The way he seems to look right through me makes my blood boil. I glare at him, shooting beams of hatred at him, yet he appears to not even notice I’m here. Of all the low-life, rude, and conniving—
“He can’t see you,” I hear Sebastian say.
I gasp both at the sound of his voice and at the Sound. Of. His. Voice. It’s been too long since I’ve heard that deep baritone, and it still has the same tingling effect as it washes over my body.
I turn to see him, hoping maybe he’s gotten a cold sore or really bad acne since I saw him last, but no such luck. He’s still absolutely gorgeous, and my chest tightens at the sight.
I bite my lip, not sure what to say.
Thankfully, he speaks up first. “Hi.”
I take a deep inhale and stand. “Hi.”
“I’m glad you decided to take me up on my offer to help.” He takes a timid step forward.
I force a smile through my nerves that feel like they’re playing racquetball inside my body, bouncing back and forth. “I appreciate it.”
I glance at Hardin and then back to Sebastian. The difference between the two men is almost laughable. Where Hardin is dark and mysterious, the artsy type, Sebastian is ruggedly handsome and manly with a glow about him that’s radiant. Hardin is a good six inches shorter than Sebastian, who also makes this large room feel ever so small. He commands it, dictates its energy, and oozes sexual intensity with every breath he takes.
I point to the glass wall. “Can he really not see me?”
“No.” He holds up a remote. “There’s a setting on the glass that makes it viewable one way. All he sees is fogged glass. We can turn it off and on with this.”
I walk over to the wall and stare at it like it’s the most complex thing in the world when, in actuality, it looks just like a normal piece of glass.
Sebastian steps up to me. My chest rises, and my stomach flutters. My palms feel sweaty, so I play with them. Even though he’s not touching me, just having him close sends chills up my spine.
“Do you do a lot of interrogating here? Feels like an episode of Law & Order,” I joke—poorly.
He laughs anyway. “We use it sparingly, and we never record anything that happens inside these walls. Hardin brought an attorney. Can’t imagine he’s a very good one though. His business card also stated that he’s a realtor and part-time electrician. Still, it could get ugly. Can you handle it?”
My heart says no, but my mind is telling me to put on my big-girl panties and get this over with. I lift my chin, square my shoulders, and declare, “Let’s do this.”
My eyes meet his, and my face feels flush. His lips tilt to the side as he steps toward the door that leads to the other conference room, stopping just before walking through.
“Just sit back and enjoy the show.” He winks, and I swear my heart flutters at the sight.
I try to gather my emotions as I walk in and take my seat opposite Hardin at the large conference table.
Sebastian remains standing. His demeanor changes into one of a hardened man who is ready to get down to business. “Let’s get started with the matter of Lady Featherington, Miss Morgana’s Pomeranian.”
Hardin’s attorney speaks next, pulling a slip from inside a folder and placing it on the table. “The dog is a clear possession of Mr. Reynolds. This receipt shows the animal was purchased by him, and the license is assigned to Hardin J. Reynolds.”
The lawyer’s smug face is so shrewd. It matches the cocky one plastered on Hardin’s. If it was appropriate to bitch-slap him, I would.
Sebastian looks at the document, and my heart drops. I didn’t know Hardin was getting me a puppy at the time, or I would have been there when he got her and put her in our names jointly. Not that it would have helped. She’d still be half his.
Sebastian drops the paper and places his own folder in front of him, opening it and looking at the pile.
“In Pennsylvania, a pet is a personal possession. Seems ridiculous when they’re really a member of the family, but that’s the law,” Sebastian starts.
Hardin’s attorney takes out a receipt. “My client’s name is on this receipt. He purchased the animal; therefore, it is his possession.”
Sebastian doesn’t flinch. “That receipt makes Mr. Reynolds the purchaser. These documents, including”—he lifts up a piece of paper—“veterinary bills, signed by Miss Morgana”—one by one, he piles the papers up—“grooming bills, also signed by Miss Morgana; and a prescription for heartworm medication as well as tick and flea, which is charged to Miss Morgana’s Amazon account monthly, all show she was the intended owner.”
“That means nothing. Mr. Reynolds’s girlfriend walks the dog three times a day. Does that mean she owns the animal?”
Sebastian lowers his gaze to him. “Thirty-two letters of reference. That’s what we have from people in your own former neighborhood who can vouch that Miss Morgana is the one who walked, owned, and loved Lady Featherington. Of course, except when she was at work and Mr. Reynolds’s new girlfriend was hired—by Miss Morgana—to walk the dog. Not one of these letters states your client has ever been seen with the animal.”
I look up at Sebastian in complete and utter shock. I had no idea he was doing research into my ownership, nonetheless soliciting references on my behalf. I lift one and see it’s from a woman who says she lived in our building.
“This is a joke,” Hardin says. “She ran errands. Doesn’t mean the dog’s hers.”
My jaw drops, but Sebastian keeps calm as he makes his case as to why Lady Featherington belongs to me.
“Well, actually, it does. Because she was a gift from Mr. Reynolds to Miss Morgana, and here is proof of the gift, posted to both of their social media accounts, stating, in fact, that she was a birthday present. Which means she is indeed Miss Morgana’s property.” Sebastian lays multiple photos from Facebook and Instagram along with the captions that say just that.
Seeing him command the attention of Hardin and, even better, putting him in his place is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. The attorney skims through the vet records, grooming bills, pictures, and letters. He looks to Hardin like he’s disappointed he didn’t know all of this beforehand.
Without putting that matter to bed, Sebastian moves on to the artwork. His tone is impressive while his body speaks in a language that I’m dying to learn the dialect for.
Before I know it, we’re talking about furniture, pots and pans, and who paid rent on which month. Hardin’s attorney gets in some good lines, but Sebastian’s are better, smarter, poised in a condescending way, and the men on the other side of the table appear to be caught like deer in headlights.
Sebastian pushes away from the table and places a hand on my elbow to rise. “We’ll give you a few moments to digest this while I discuss something with my client.”
I follow him calmly through the fogged-out door and into the other conference room. As soon as it’s closed behind us, I start laughing and squealing, totally in shock at what just transpired.
“You’re amazing. I didn’t know you had all of those documents,” I state as my hands shake a little from all the nerves that have built up inside me, trying to make their way out.
His smile is big as he slides his hands in his pockets. “It’s called discovery. We have to make a case, even in the smallest of personal suits. I don’t like to walk i
nto a room unprepared.”
“You definitely took charge of this. So, now what?”
“We’re just making him sweat.” He leans against the wall, cool and collected.
I glance over to Hardin. He’s definitely flustered. When he runs his hands down his face in frustration, I turn back to Sebastian. “Is this a normal tactic?”
He laughs. “This isn’t a normal case for me, so no. But I think they need a moment to realize that they have a weak case. Then, I’ll go in for the kill and close this baby up.”
“Do you think I’ll get my dog back?”
“I don’t lose.”
“Let’s hope not. Should we go back in?”
He lifts a finger and sways his head. “I’m on the fence about that. Something tells me Hardin will have an easier time, admitting defeat, if you’re not around. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who loses easily.”
I shake my head. “Most definitely not. So, I just stay here?”
“If that’s okay with you?”
Rubbing my hands together, I try to think of a reason why I should go back into that room. Sebastian has been nothing but wise in this whole endeavor. I’d be a fool to not take his advice. “I’ll wait here.”
He exits the room and heads back to Hardin and the attorney.
Sebastian’s stance obviously shows he means business. Seeing them talk without hearing the words is frustrating, yet there’s so much you can learn from watching someone’s actions. You can see their motivations.
Sebastian maintains balance, keeps his posture steady and his eyes locked. He looks like a warrior. A protector. And at best, someone who wants to do right.
Hardin cowers, throws his arms up in defiance, and curses under his breath while staring at the floor. He doesn’t want to give in, but I don’t think he has a choice, and he knows it.
Sebastian keeps talking, and Hardin’s hard exterior melts right before my eyes. A minute later, I see him close his eyes and nod. A blue-and-white paper document is slid in front of Hardin, who slams the top of the table with his fist.
Sebastian presses a button on a phone in the conference room. A woman walks in with a stamp. Everyone signs papers, the woman stamps them, and the next thing I see is Hardin standing, kicking his chair back, and heading toward the door.
Sebastian stops him by pointing his finger out to him in a stern manner. Whatever he asks, Hardin nods his head and then leaves with a huff.
Once he’s out of the room, Sebastian turns toward the glass wall with a grin covering his face. When he winks my way, my entire body melts even though he’s in a completely different room from me.
He exits through the same door, but to my surprise, he doesn’t head toward me. Instead, I watch as he leaves in a completely opposite direction. For a second, I wonder if I should follow him when Miles appears.
“Miss Morgana,” he says, getting my attention. “Please follow me.”
I grab my things with much more happiness to my step than when I got here and head to where he’s standing in the hallway. He grins before turning to lead me to my next destination.
I recognize the office we’re heading toward, and my stomach flutters with each step we take.
Miles stops just outside the door and holds out his hand, motioning for me to pass by him. “Mr. Blake is ready for you in here.”
“Thank you, Miles.” I smile politely as I walk by and stand just a few feet inside of Sebastian’s office.
When our eyes meet, he stares at me, not saying anything, but his eyes speak a book’s worth of material. They’re telling me he’s in his element. What he just did is what he loves and what he’s good at. But they’re also showing me just how much he’s missed me and, if I’m not mistaken, how much he wants to kiss me right now too.
Okay, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
After a few seconds more of him not saying anything, I finally break the silence. “Well?”
He cracks his stoic expression with the biggest smile I’ve seen on him yet. “How much do you love me?”
I feel like I just tripped over a proverbial curb on a street. “Excuse me?”
“I got you everything.” He stands and heads to the other side of his desk, leaning back on it with his legs and arms crossed. The stance is so sexy because he seems so relaxed and pleased with himself.
Confidence is intoxicating on a man.
I playfully eye him. “What do you mean by everything?”
He raises his eyebrows with a slight tilt to his head.
“What did you want?” he asks.
“You got Lady Featherington?” I jump slightly with excitement toward him.
“And …”
“My painting?” I ask, cautious of getting my hopes up as I step closer.
“And …”
I tilt my head. “I didn’t ask for anything more.”
“He owed you money.”
Now, my eyes bug out as I move right next to him. “You got Hardin to repay me?”
“A man needs to pay his fair share in this world. He’s the reason you didn’t get your security deposit back, and he risked your credit being tarnished. He was a joint occupant with his mail being sent there for a year. You are entitled to reimbursement.”
“You’re my hero.”
“It took everything in me to waive the rights to any of the furnishings in the apartment, but I assumed the money was better. You can buy new and start over.”
I throw my arms around him with so much happiness. I’m beyond thrilled to be getting my dog and artwork, and the money is the absolute cherry on top. I’m squeezing him so intensely that the intoxicating scent of him invades my senses. Warm citrus and an earthy musk pour off of his neck, which is so close to my mouth that it’s dangerously inappropriate.
I shouldn’t be touching my lawyer this way, so I pull back slightly. His arms, which weren’t around me a second ago, grip my waist and pull me in.
I lower my palms to the lapels of his suit jacket and stare at them as I speak, “No one other than family has ever gone above and beyond for me the way you did today. It must have taken so much time and money to get all of those documents.”
“You were worth the investment.”
I glance down. “Sometimes, I don’t feel that way.”
“Amy.” He brings my attention back to him. “You are bold and courageous. A spitfire with unquestionable passion. You give yourself fully to your dreams, friendships, family, and love. I’ve yet to meet someone as independent and smart, who lacks self-pity and only takes what she can return. That is why you are worth every moment of my time.”
Our eyes meet.
Flames seem to ignite all around us. His brown orbs darken, and a visceral molten lava of heat shines from them.
My chest tightens, and my breasts rise. I lick my lips, and his eyes lower at the sight.
He swallows and moves closer.
I whimper and part my mouth.
It takes point-two seconds until our lips collide in a crash of desire and passion bursting at the seams. His tongue glides against mine as my lips caress his. We’ve kissed before, but this one is different. It’s desperate and maddening. So damn needy that my head is in a foggy haze.
His fingers grip my blazer, bringing me flush against him as he deepens our kiss. I roam mine up to his shoulders and into his hair. When his mouth moves to my neck, nipping and sucking, sending tingles down to my core, I yank his hair and pull.
A deep growl escapes his throat as his mouth comes back to mine, and we kiss again, backing up until my butt hits the top of his desk.
He lifts me, and I move willingly. I shift back and accidentally knock his phone onto the floor in the process. He pushes his suit jacket off, and I start loosening his tie. The sound of a dial tone fills the room. We laugh, as it must have also hit the speakerphone button when it fell.
As he leans down to pick it up, I roll my head to the side, and that’s when I see it.
On his desk, in a silve
r Tiffany frame, is a sonogram—a black-and-white image that looks like nothing and everything, all at once—sitting next to his computer screen. A prime space for a photo of something you cherish and want to look at often.
Sebastian sets the phone back in its place and comes right back to me, but my head is now turned toward the photo. He must sense how my mood has changed because a sigh escapes his lips.
With a deep breath, I adjust my blazer. Sebastian does the same with his tie. He holds out his hand to lift me up back to my feet, and I take it. Once I’m planted firmly on the ground, he reaches for the picture. He holds it, running his thumb over the glass and the promise that grainy photo presents.
“Did you find out the sex?” I ask, leaning in to see it.
His smile is soft, proud. “We did. It’s a boy.”
I place my hand on his arm. “I’m really happy for you, Sebastian.”
His eyes meet mine, and they pause, almost in conflict. His lips part to say something, but nothing comes out.
I save him the trouble of finding the words. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We got lost in the moment. I should get going.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
I take in a breath. “I have to. Thank you again. Truly. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
If I could wish for Sebastian to be anything but who he is, it would be a travesty. He’s too damn good. Charming to a fault. Ambitious and inspiring. Loyal. Beautiful.
Not mine.
I look at the sonogram one more time and smile. “Make sure you spoil the hell out of that kid.”
As I turn to leave, my heart hurts when he doesn’t stop me. Not that I really thought he would. I’ve watched enough movies to want the call back, but that doesn’t happen in real life, not when one person is having a family with another woman and the other doesn’t have the balls to admit what she wants.
So, I leave without a word.
I had no idea what I was expecting when I walked into Sebastian’s law firm today, but I can say that I definitely wasn’t expecting anything that happened.
Chapter Twelve
Loyal Lawyer: A Standalone Novel Page 10
