by Lauren Wood
As I threw my things down on my desk, his head popped through the doorway. I let out a heavy sigh, not bothering to hide my irritation.
“Sorry to bother you. But did you say we’ve met? Forgive me…I can’t quite recall…”
“Elizabeth Richards,” I feigned a tight smile. “We met in a coffee shop. You asked me out. I agreed and regretted it. It was the worst date of my life. But that’s hardly important now, so if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do. Your whole company is under investigation, in case you forgot.”
He didn’t budge, carefully studying my face. I could see the lightbulb slowly coming on, but I didn’t care to wait around for the apology that would probably never come. Guys like him likely wouldn’t even know what to apologize for. I whipped past him again, pouring myself another cup of coffee.
George popped in, darting his eyes back and forth between us. “Oh, good. Glad to see you two are getting to know each other. Liz, I have a few things to discuss with you in my office when you have a moment.”
“Certainly. I’ll be right there.”
“Take your time. You two will likely be very closely acquainted by the time this is all over. It’s good to get comfortable with each other.”
Eric looked pleased at the prospect, while I had to try not to hurl.
“I remember now,” he announced as soon as George was gone. “You left me standing on the street corner like a fool.”
“You were late. You stared at another woman’s ass right before taking a phone call that was obviously from yet another woman. You made the impression of being a lazy, privileged, spoiled ass. And after all of that, you still expected me to sleep with you. Forgive me for not jumping at the chance to catch whatever STD you picked up on your endless, world traveling adventures in womanizing.”
Eric placed a hand over his heart, as if I had just stabbed him. But I was hardly convinced he was capable of truly feeling sorry.
“I really must get back to work. Excuse me.” I pushed passed him again and stormed off towards George’s office with an adrenaline rush from telling him off. It felt fucking amazing. And now that it was out of the way, I could hopefully put it all behind me enough to get through this nightmare of a case.
Then, I would be made partner, and have the satisfaction of knowing I didn’t need to depend on assholes like Eric Halstead for validation. I had my career for that, and it was more than enough. My job certainly never kept me waiting. In fact, it blew my phone up around the clock.
5
Eric
In a way, I was proud of myself for having gone after Liz the first time – even if it was the worst timing possible. I’d be an idiot not to at least try and ask her out, maybe show her a good time. My present self was secretly patting my past self on the back, even if I was slinking out of Liz’s office like a scolded dog.
I remember it all now – running into her at the coffee shop. She spun around so fast she nearly splattered both of us with her coffee. Her hair was pulled into a bun then, showing off her long swan-like neck. She wasn’t wearing those thick, black-rimmed glasses like she had on today. Her big greenish blue eyes were wide and looking up at me like I was a piece of cake.
I’d intended on walking her out without making a move. It’s not that I didn’t want to. She was a knockout, after all. But I was set to whisk a young model chick off on a trip later that evening. I knew it’d be our last together. My money and looks could get me a little ways with hot women who were too young for me, but they were used to guys like me who were ready and willing to spend their money spoiling them. And why stick with just one of us when there were dozens more waiting to do the same?
But I remember standing there on the street corner chatting it up with Liz. The girls I usually went for couldn’t hold a conversation to save their lives. Liz, on the other hand, was witty and sharp. I remembered all of her clever little flirtatious lines putting me on my toes. Then she said she was a lawyer, and it was almost like a challenge. I knew I could get actresses and models, but I hadn’t bothered with women who used their brains more than their looks. I wondered if a woman like that could hold my interest for longer than a week or two.
I got her number and headed over to pick up my blonde twenty-something for the airport. I remember sneaking off the moment we landed to call Liz and set up a date. Her work schedule made it so that she only had one night available that week – the night after next. I couldn’t explain that I was a day’s flight away already. I agreed and figured I’d find some way to make it work.
The next day was wonderful – lots of hot sex and the best that luxury resort life had to offer. Other old men lounging around looked at me and the girl on my arm with envy. But she offered up some kind of pills she got from a friend. I never shied away from trying something new, and the drugs did make for a good time.
But by that evening, I could tell the chick was getting tired of me just as I predicted. It was fine, I was getting tired of her too. And I had a date to make the following evening, so it was a convenient excuse to hop on the first plane back the next morning. But between another night of partying and the long flight back home, I was a mess by the time I was getting ready for my date with Liz.
I’d called to tell the cute coffee shop girl I’d be late the moment I landed, then rushed back to my place to shower and try to pull myself together. The rushed trip filled with alcohol and drugs, not to mention the tropical sun, left my brain feeling like a puddle around my feet. I realized I had forgotten the poor woman’s name – having saved her number in my phone as ‘coffee shop lady.’ I couldn’t seem to find the card she gave me, and I was having trouble remembering what it was she even did for a living. Something impressive – that’s as much as I could squeeze out of my shrunken head.
To make matters worse, the moment I got out of the cab, the girl from my trip called to say she’d left something expensive in our hotel room. The concierge wouldn’t talk to her because her name wasn’t on any of the information for the room. She needed me to remind her of the room number and give her some other details to sort it out. I did and told her to call me if she needed anything else. I knew I’d never see her again, but I wouldn’t leave her hanging about whatever she had lost.
I waltzed into the restaurant even later than I anticipated, and I knew the night was going to be a disaster. I might have been better off just canceling. But I felt a strange determination to see it through – if for nothing else than to remind myself why I wasn’t good enough for women like this knockout coffee shop woman. It’d give me an excuse to go back to my bimbos and party lifestyle, feeling less guilty next time around.
I couldn’t stop my wandering eye, couldn’t remember her name or profession, and then the other chick called to finish sorting out her expensive, lost item. By the time I returned to the table, Liz was gone. I tried chasing after her. It’s not that I was being selfish. It’s that while I knew I was a terrible person to date, I was excellent in bed. I could do that much for her at least. She deserved it for wasting her night on me, and I had every intention to treat her like a goddess between the sheets.
But you had to earn sex with a woman like her. I was no match for her. It was hard to look back on it all as I called a cab in front of her office. I wondered how many other amazing women like her I’ve treated badly over my years of misbehaving. It was all catching up to me now. I felt old and tired and was feeling more desperate than ever for a fresh start in some small quiet town.
That’s when it hit me. The old Eric wasn’t good enough for someone like Liz, but maybe the new one could be. I may not have had it all figured out just yet, but at least I was being more down to earth and honest about it now. If I could have a second chance, I know I could show her a good time. I may not have stood a chance at winning her over or even getting her into bed, but I could right the wrong of the terrible date by taking her on a good one.
The more I thought about it, the mission felt like my chance at redemption. I couldn’t d
o anything else while everything was frozen under the investigation, but I could use this as a way to prove to myself and at least one other person that I really was a changed man.
I spent the rest of the afternoon planning the perfect date out in my head. Once that was done, all that was left was finding some way to convince Liz to actually go on the date. It would be tricky since she obviously hated my guts, but I wasn’t going to give up.
I knew the whole lawyer-client relationship was a little taboo. I’d have to find some way around that. It occurred to me the best way to talk her into this would be to approach her outside of the office. Thanks to social media, I didn’t think I’d have any trouble tracking her down and setting up an ‘accidental’ run in.
Unfortunately, another great thing about women like Liz is that they have more important things to do than post every detail of their lives online. Her social pages were scarce – only featuring the occasional meme that looked like something only a lawyer would find funny. I was used to dating girls who considered themselves to be influencers and never missed a chance to show off their lives to the world.
Back to the drawing board. I’d find some way to bump into Liz outside the office, and when I did, I’d just have to charm her and sweep her off her feet enough for her to agree to the date. I had done it once before. It couldn’t be too hard, right?
6
Liz
As infuriated as I was that Eric hadn’t recognized me right off the bat, I was not about to let that distract me from my work. I was determined to handle this case objectively and professionally. I was not about to get caught up in the way I still felt weak at the knees any time I was in the same room with him, despite how much I hated him.
When you’re a lawyer working your way up to high-profile notoriety, especially one that is trying to make partner, you don’t really have much of a life. I was spending my Saturdays the way I usually did. I had awakened at the crack of dawn to squeeze in a quick workout before showering and going out to run errands.
I always spent a few hours reviewing cases at my favorite coffee shop before doing my grocery shopping, when I would buy myself fresh flowers as a special weekly treat. My weekends were really no different than regular work weekdays. The only difference was that I had to somehow squeeze in my personal errands around the usual daily workload.
But there were a few moments of leisure, even beyond buying myself flowers. I may have still slaved away over case notes at the coffee shop, but I did let myself enjoy a chocolate pastry alongside my latte. I put in my headphones to drown out whatever jarring tunes the baristas played over the stereo, as well as the chatter of other customers. I sipped down my coffee slowly and relished in each and every last bite of the pastry.
It was my favorite and most relaxing time of the week, even if it was still riddled with work. I didn’t have to bother wearing the stiff suits, which were my uniform for the office. Instead, I opted for a big cozy sweater and didn’t bother straightening the loose bun on top of my head. I let the loose strands fall around my face and wore less make-up. Everything about my ‘lazy’ weekend mornings were just a little less intense, which gave me room for more. More time to take it slow and enjoy the small things I could fit in.
That’s exactly what I was in the process of doing at the coffee shop when I was abruptly interrupted by the flash of a figure taking the seat across from me at the small corner table I had sequestered. I ignored it for the briefest second, thinking someone was just grabbing the empty chair. But I quickly realized someone had so rudely placed themselves at my table without asking.
I looked up in shock and who was sitting there but the very man I was mulling over my legal defense for. Eric looked as cool and calm as ever, as if he belonged at my table. And he was quick to place a full bouquet of flowers on the table between us.
“Can I help you?” I asked sarcastically. The nerve of this guy to just plop down in front of me like that.
“I’m hoping so,” he grinned.
I had no intention of finding out the reason behind that devilish spark in his eyes.
“Let me rephrase. I can’t actually help you. I’m certain of it. This is a coffee shop. People come here to order coffee, which you do at that counter right over there.” I condescendingly pointed to the cashier and waited for him to retreat.
“And to get phone numbers of hot lawyers,” he quipped back, still seeming to have mistaken our first meeting as something to cherish fondly.
“Once you’ve gotten the number and blown your chance, there’s nothing left to do but order coffee like everyone else and then leave.”
He glanced toward the front counter, pretending to consider the menu board carefully. “No, I do believe what I have a craving for is sitting right here at this table.”
The smoothness of his voice made me stiffen with fury and a flutter of interest all at once. But I only had room to let myself feel one of those things. “I doubt you’re craving any of the things I’d like to do to you.”
I eyed the steaming cup of coffee in my hand and thought throwing it across his freshly pressed shirt would be nice.
“Oh, so you do have some things in mind,” his brow raised.
I felt my cheeks go bright red with heat. It baffled me that I could loathe him entirely, and yet he still stirred something deep in my core that made me wish I could just give in. Part of me was still longing to stop being the professional good girl and just see what skills he had in the bedroom that made him so cocky and sure of himself.
Maybe if we had run into each other again under other circumstances, I wouldn’t have been as strong as I was on that first date. But it was too late for that now that I was working on the investigation into the billionaire heartbreaker brothers.
My eyes drifted to the flowers on the table. Maybe if I played along with his banter a little longer, making it clear I wasn’t going to cave in, he’d get bored and leave me alone. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was his short attention span. That much was obvious from our terrible dinner date.
“Do you always carry flowers around? Offering them up to whatever pretty girl you happen to bump into? I bet you have a cheesy line to go with the whole routine.”
“No, actually,” he slid them closer to me. “I bought these especially for you.”
I groaned and shoved them back. “Oh, please. You didn’t even know you’d find me here.”
“Oh, but I did actually.” He leaned back with a smug smile. “It wasn’t too hard to track you down. I know women like you don’t have time to venture too far outside your comfort zones. This was the coffee shop we met in. I assumed you were a regular, and of course every good lawyer is working while they enjoy their Saturday morning coffee.”
I didn’t bother responding at first, so he attempted sliding the flowers towards me again. I pushed them back more swiftly this time. “Well, I appreciate the stalker gift, but I can’t accept it.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both. You’re my client. I don’t accept gifts from clients.”
He nodded, looking a little defeated, but quickly perked up and made his way over to the barista. I hoped that was the end of it, but he returned a few moments later with a glass of water in hand. He placed it on the table and put the bouquet inside of it.
“If you can’t take them home, then just enjoy them here while you can.”
I shook my head and pursed my lips, hating the look on his face. I could tell he was awfully proud of himself, thinking he was so clever. It was almost adorable, but no good would come out of noticing things like that. We were stuck in a stare down, and it was obvious he wasn’t going anywhere as long as I was at the coffee shop. There was one sure way to fix that, even if it did mean sacrificing one of my favorite parts of my Saturday morning.
“Well, it was a short-lived enjoyment,” I huffed, darting my eyes at the flowers and their makeshift vase before gathering my papers up to shove them in my bag. “I’ll be going now.”
/> He stepped back in surprise as I quickly stood and put on my coat, draping my bag over my shoulder. What I couldn’t get stuffed back into it fast enough, I carried in my arms. I could feel a mixture of frustration and desire rising up rapidly, and I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
7
Eric
One thing I was quickly learning about Liz is that she looked ridiculously sexy when she was mad. Really, it was all I had seen from her, beyond that first meeting when I got her number. So, I guess to be fair, I had to say she looked ridiculously sexy all the time. Especially when she was storming away from me with her tight jeans hugging her perfect ass.
I gave her a moment to make it out the door. I could tell she really felt like she had won and put me in my place. But I came to the coffee shop prepared for her to run from me. Before she could make it to the street corner, I quickly ran after her. I had learned long ago that half the time a woman storms away from you, it’s just because she’s waiting to see if you’ll go chasing after her.
“Hey, Liz, come on. Come back,” I called out to her on the busy sidewalk. She turned around, rolling her eyes. “I came here to beg your forgiveness. I want a second chance.”
“You only get one chance, and you blew it,” she said as her body tensed, as if she was going to march off again, but I could tell she was hesitant. Part of her was dying to know what else I’d say.
“Did it ever occur to you that first date was so terrible because I knew you were too good for me?”
“Ha!” she scoffed in my face, pretending to survey the cabs lining up along the street.
“No, really. You intimidated me. I was nervous. And I knew I was in no position to treat you the way you deserved at that time in my life.”
