by Cecy Robson
She tosses a folder on the desk in front of him, a very satisfied grin splaying across her face. “I would be if we didn’t just settle,” she sings. She turns to the cluster of attorneys gathered at the table. “Seven figures. Read ‘em and weep, bitches.”
“Language,” Mr. Ballantyne, mutters, not bothering to glance up.
Everyone falls perfectly still as Mr. Ballantyne flips through the folder and reads the letter. “Well done,” he tells her. “Well done indeed.”
She glances around, seemingly pleased with herself despite that you can slice through the jealously in the room with a machete. She stops when she sees me. “And you are?”
“Landon Summers. I’m the new pro bono attorney.”
She shakes my hand when I offer it, giving me the once-over. “Kee-Kee Washington. Good to meet you.”
I release her hand slowly. So, not Luci . . .
I lean back in my chair, wishing I could kick this nagging feeling and my own ass while I’m at it. It was two days of companionship and hot sex, I remind myself. Nothing more.
I’ve repeated the same thing like a mantra every night I’ve gone to sleep without Luci, wondering if she’s okay and wishing she was with me.
“I have a case before Judge Mizan this afternoon,” Jefferson says to me. “If you want, you can tag along. Get to know the clerks, some of the staff, that sort of thing.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say, ignoring the glare Duncan casts his way. “Do you know where I get my parking pass?”
Jefferson smiles. “Oh, yeah, Luci will totally hook you up.”
Luci.
Again.
I roll my shoulders, trying to shake what I’m feeling.
“Kee, did you see Luci out there?” the woman at the far end asks.
Kee-Kee huffs. “No. She’s probably fending off the mob that surrounds her every time she leaves her office. Between them”—She motions irritably around the table—“And all of you, my girl can’t get a break.” She turns to Mr. Ballantyne. “Sir, I’d like to talk to you about giving Luci one of the corner offices down here when we move upstairs. If anyone deserves it, it’s her.”
The room of suits collectively mumble, agreeing for the first time since I sat down. Mr. Ballantyne nods as if it’s already a done deal.
I loosen my collar, feeling suddenly hot.
I’m hoping this Luci woman is old, real old, the kind of old that’s going to pat me on the head every time she passes me—the kind I shouldn’t be interested in.
“Who’s Luci?” I ask Duncan, unable to stop myself and hoping whatever he says will calm me the hell down.
Jefferson cuts him off. “Our office manager and go-to for just about everything. You’re going to fucking love her.”
“Language,” Mr. Ballantyne repeats, again, not bothering to glance up.
“I’ll call her,” Kee-Kee says, reaching for her phone when the room quiets. A phone rings right behind the door. “Luci, get in here, will you?”
“I’m trying,” a quiet and very familiar voice answers.
I straighten in my seat.
No way.
The door pops open. All I see is part of a leg belonging to a very petite body. I go perfectly still.
No way.
The person at the door—the one who can’t possibly be Luci because that Luci lives in New Jersey, speaks quietly to another woman just outside the room. The other person is agitated. Luci is not, talking calmly and reassuring her.
No fucking way.
My heartbeat grounds to a halt when Luci, the Luci, walks in. The hair I tangled between my fingers when she went down on me is pulled up in a messy bun, held together by a pencil. Maybe this shouldn’t be my first thought, and maybe it shouldn’t be my second either. But I am a man and that’s exactly what happened.
Instead of a cocktail dress, she’s in a long, shapely brown skirt and silky white blouse. Her arms are stacked with folders, and still she greets the room with a warm smile.
“Luci.”
“Luc!”
“Bout damn time.”
Almost everyone is saying something to tease and reach her. Everyone is happy to see her.
Everyone but me.
What da hell?
“Hi, everyone,” she says. “I apologize for being late.” She drops the stack in her arms at the opposite end of the table, moving toward me when the people at the end start shooting the folders down the line.
“Luci,” a woman asks. “What’s going on with the new hire?”
“I’ve scheduled you to meet her tomorrow morning before your eleven o’clock appointment,” Luci replies, using that same sweet voice she used when she offered to cook me dinner. “She’s a highly qualified secretary with years of experience in tax law.”
“Wait,” Kee-Kee says. “Why does Sharon get the highly qualified and I get Liza?”
Luci pauses, barely blinking. “Liza will be fine, Kee. Sharon needed someone with a specific area of knowledge, hence her candidate’s more advanced qualifications.”
“Luc, I need to talk you about the stock options,” Jefferson calls out.
“That’s fine,” she replies, scrolling through her iPad. “Does four work?”
“Anything for you,” he tells her, winking.
She’s almost to me. I wait for something, some sort of recognition, apology—something to explain why she’s here, in Charlotte, the same place I’m supposed to work for the next year.
She doesn’t so much as glance my way, her focus on Mr. Ballantyne as she nears my end of the table. “My apologies, sir,” she tells him, fussing with the scarf around her neck. “There were a few issues that needed my attention.”
“Don’t worry, Luci,” he says. His expression is relaxed and he appears to calm in her presence. “If you would, I’d like you to meet our pro bono associate.”
She turns, her olive skin and light eyes radiant, and her presence just as magnetic as it was the first time we met. “Hello,” she says, smiling politely. “I’m Luci.”
At first, I think she’s blowing me off. Until it becomes perfectly clear she doesn’t recognize me. Frustration punctures my chest as I wrestle with how to play this.
Except I’m done playing games and I’ll be damned if I pretend to be someone I’m not.
I rise, offering her my hand almost at the same time a spark of recognition goes off beneath that mound of hair. “Landon Summers, charmed.”
Her eyes fly open and her hand doesn’t quite make it to mine. She jerks her head in Mr. Ballantyne’s direction and then back at me.
“No,” she says
And that’s about it.
“Something wrong, Luci?” he asks.
“This . . .” she says, struggling to find the right words to describe what “this” is.
“Luci, what’s going on?” Kee-Kee asks.
I think Kee-Kee is looking at me. I think everyone is looking at me. But my eyes are on Luci and that’s where they stay.
“You’re the new associate?” she stammers.
It’s not really a question, more like a “holy shit” response. Hell, that makes two of us because what the unfathomable fuck is happening here?
Duncan nudges me as I take a seat, oblivious to anything that’s happening. “Luci’s going to take care of all your needs,” he says.
She already has, I don’t bother to add.
“Do you know each other?” Kee-Kee asks.
If her reddening face doesn’t answer that question, mine for sure does.
“Oh,” some asshole a few seats down says, dragging out the word.
Well, I’ll say this, I know how to make a lasting first impression.
Chapter Fourteen
Luci
The second the meeting is adjourned, I leave. Oh, I’m sorry, leave is not quite the word I’m searching for.
I run back to my office like my butt is on fire and Landon just squirted me with
gasoline.
While standing naked.
Holding a sign saying he saw me naked.
I clutch my chest. He saw me naked.
And now he works here.
“Luci?” Tara calls. “Is now a good time to talk to you about switching cubicles?”
“Not at all,” I say sprinting past her.
I fall with my back against the door when I slam it shut. Sweat drips down my spine in tiny rivers.
“Oh, God.”
“Oh . . . God.”
“Oh, God.”
It’s the only thing I can think to say. This was supposed to be a better year. After last year, it had to get better. I mean, isn’t that how life is supposed to work? Isn’t there some kind of balance in the world, good on one side to even the scales and keep all the bad tipping the other side from spilling onto the floor?
I walk slowly to my desk and collapse in my chair. I’m supposed to meet the designer in another hour and start the process of revamping the new floor. I’m supposed to meet with Mr. Ballantyne about the staff office party. I’m supposed to do my job!
I stare, simply stare and the mountain of work I have waiting for me.
It’s not so bad. Staring beats screaming, and crying, and curling into a ball, and . . .
Oh, my God. I’m hysterical. I’m actually hysterical and losing my mind.
The door flies open and in walks Kee-Kee, her dark hair almost as wild as her eyes. “You fucked him, didn’t you?”
I straighten, batting my hands and trying to shush her when the rows of paralegals and secretaries slow their typing and glance up as one.
She whips around. “Don’t you people have work to do?” she demands, immediately causing the typing and hustle to resume full speed ahead.
Kee doesn’t wait for me to answer or for an invitation. Of course not, why would she? She’s not embarrassed.
She didn’t have the new attorney go down on her, four times!
I cover my eyes. She also didn’t have Landon sing to her, or dance with her, or teach her how to fish.
He did all those things to me, and with me, and now he’s here.
She lowers herself in the seat closest to me, crossing her legs like a real lady, and speaking like she’s not. “He has a big dick, doesn’t he?”
“Kee-Kee!”
She hooks a thumb behind her. “I can tell by the way he walks, there’s no hiding a package like that.”
“I never—”
“All right,” she says, holding out her hands. “You don’t have to give me the dirty details, but a real friend would so I’m kind of expecting them. So I’m asking as a real friend, did he bend you over and pull your hair?”
My voice is more of a squeak. “I’m not having this discussion with you.”
I wish I could lie and tell her no. But it’s more than obvious Landon and I had sex. That doesn’t mean I’m spilling the facts how he and I, I mean how he and we, and—
Oh, God. We had sex.
Kee smiles. “Your face is really red,” she says, as if I don’t already know. “It was that good, wasn’t it?”
I wring my hands. “Kee, I’m begging you. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Pfft. Don’t worry about it, only the people who need to know will know. Now tell me everything so I can know it.”
“No,” I insist.
“Luci, I thought we were friends?”
“We are friends,” I assure her.
“Then I don’t need to remind you that real friends tell their other real friends everything. Including how you got the hot guy to fuck you on a raft while going downstream.”
I blink back at her. “There wasn’t a raft and we didn’t—”
She throws her hands up. “I’m talking about me. I was twenty-two. Sven was twenty-six.”
“Who is Sven?”
“The river guide at camp Kenobi.” She bites down on her bottom lip. “Let’s just say he liked to be paddled.”
If she weren’t one of the top lawyers in the south, I’d have her committed. “So because you told me about Sven, I should tell you about— I’m mean, admit to . . .”
I can’t even get the words out.
Kee shakes her head. “My point is, I’m not twenty-two anymore, there’s no Sven, and I only have you and Landon.”
“You . . .” I latch onto something she said. “Wait, didn’t you just go out with someone the other week?”
“Yeah, but we didn’t have sex.” She gives me a sly grin. “Unlike you and Landon.”
I place my palms on the desk and lean in. “There is no me and Landon. Do you understand?”
“I understand that I’ve blown out three vibrators in two years,” she tells me flatly. “Now, tell me everything so I can believe there’s still hope for me and so I don’t have to freeze the five eggs I have left.”
“No.”
The door flies open and in walks in Mr. Ballantyne. “Luci, what the hell is all this talk about a staff holiday party. The holidays are over, thank Christ.”
Oh, yes, the party! Because I’m in the mood for one now.
I reach for my notes. “Sir, the support staff and paralegals were given generous bonuses as per your request, but they never had a formal celebration to thank them for their hard work and contribution to the success of Ballantyne and Bradly.”
“So?” he asks.
“So due to the settlement in Brown vs. The City of Charlotte—”
“Which I secured,” Kee-Kee reminds me.
“And the sums obtained,” I agree, speaking quickly. “I think it would be a nice thing to do to thank the staff. I have secured a very nice dinner package from Sullivan’s—”
“We already ate there,” he says.
“Yes, sir. You, me, Kee-Kee, and the rest of the attorneys. The remainder of your employees, however, were not present at the dinner and feel spurned.”
He makes a face. “Spurned?”
“Yes, sir. The large majority of your employees put in extra hours, every day. I think a nice dinner would be good for morale and assure continued devotion and loyalty.”
He looks at me, exactly as he did all those years ago when I was a teen and down on my luck. Like then, he picks up on a lot more than I’m saying.
He crosses his arms. “Is this what you want?”
When he doesn’t ask me how much it’s going to cost, I know he’s giving in. I smile, probably the same way I did all those years ago when he offered to help me. “Yes, sir, I think it would be a nice thing for your employees.”
“Okay, Luci. If this is what you want, make it happen.”
“Thank you, sir.” I stand to shake his hand. “It’s the right thing to do.”
He pulls his hand out of mine and looks down at his palm. “You sick? You’re sweating like it’s August.”
I wipe my hand on my skirt. “No, I’m fine.”
He looks over a Kee. She shrugs. “She’s just nervous because she and Landon had relations,” she says, adding finger quotes over the final word just in case she wasn’t clear enough.
“Relations?” Mr. Ballantyne barks.
Jefferson pokes his head in. “No, shit,” he says.
Of course, Landon is standing right behind him. Of course.
My body temperature shouldn’t be this high. It’s unnatural and likely life-threatening.
Mr. Ballantyne’s chin jerks between me and Landon, whose face is probably as red as mine. “You slept with him?” he asks, pointing.
“Yes, she did,” Kee answers for me.
“I . . .”
“When the hell did this happen?” Mr. Ballantyne asks.
“I . . .” I say again.
“He just got here,” Mr. Ballantyne bellows.
“Sir, I assure you it’s not what you think,” Landon begins.
“Was it in the break room?” Mr. Ballantyne whirls on me. “God damn it, that’s where I drink my coffee.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Jefferson interrupts, ignoring Landon and my attempts to assure Mr. Ballantyne we didn’t have sex in the break room. “You spent the night with him, but won’t let me take you to dinner?”
“Way to make it all about you,” Kee snaps at him.
I’m ready to apologize to God for whatever I did to deserve this.
Evidently God is too busy watching the show.
“I’m just saying,” Jefferson begins. “I’ve asked you out, what? At least five times. Each time you’ve shot me down.”
“That’s because no one wants to go out with you, Jefferson. Even me, and I haven’t had sex with a real person in two years.”
“I’m a catch,” Jefferson insists.
“No, you’re an asshole,” Kee clarifies. “An asshole who doesn’t call the psycho women he bangs so said psycho women show up looking for him.”
“Once,” Jefferson says, growing defensive. Kee looks at him. “Okay, twice, but she and her kid left when I asked.”
“He’s only been here two minutes,” Mr. Ballantyne says, unable to get past the concept. “In my day, it took a lot longer than that.”
“Mr. Ballantyne,” Landon says, the severity in his tone stopping everyone in place. “Luci and I met prior to today.” His focus trains on me, locking me in place. “I assure you, I didn’t realize she worked here. Regardless, we will only conduct ourselves in a professional manner.”
Mr. Ballantyne has his back to me. I can’t see his face, but I know him well enough to realize he isn’t happy. He jabs his finger out. “Fine,” he says. “But just so you know, if things don’t work out, you go, she stays.” He turns back to me. “Use the company card for dinner, keep it under ten grand.”
I lower my chin and push aside the strand of hair that escaped my bun. “Yes, sir.”
I don’t look up until he storms out. Heaven forbid Kee and Jefferson follow. Kee raises her brows, waiting for all the slutty details about my time with Landon.
Jefferson grins. His attention bouncing between me and Landon. “God damn,” he says, evidently having the time of his life.
“Get out,” I say.
He frowns. “What? I’m only saying—”
“I know what you’re saying, Jefferson. And I’m telling you, get out.”
