by Lexy Timms
“Exactly,” Erin said, nodding at me. “I’d suggest something like, ‘He had other personal matters to attend to’, just something vague but truthful. And tell them that if they’d like more information, they’re going to have to talk to Daniel directly.”
I nodded. That made sense. I tried to get those words stuck in my head so they’d be ready the first time I had to answer the question.
Erin smiled sympathetically at me. “Hang in there,” she said. “And you know where to find me.”
With that, she headed out of the office, leaving me in there all alone. I couldn’t help feeling, as I sat in Daniel’s chair behind his broad desk, that I was an imposter, like a little kid pretending to go to work as his parents.
But I was trained for this, I reminded myself. And Daniel thought that I could do it. His faith in me gave me confidence—it made me stronger.
I took another deep breath and picked up the brief on that morning’s conference call. I could do this. In any case, it was too late to change my mind now. In for a penny in for a pound, as my dad used to say.
Chapter 7
Daniel
I WALKED OUT OF THE courtroom after the first day feeling grim. My lawyer clapped me on the shoulder, saying something about how things were going to go better tomorrow, but I barely heard him. I rolled my shoulders to attempt to release the tension and prepared to walk outside, knowing for sure that there would be members of the press waiting to pester me with questions as I worked my way to the car. Another day.
I glanced down at my phone and was surprised to see I had a message from Abby. She had sent it after lunch, so I hadn’t had a chance to see it. I felt a moment of panic, hoping that nothing had gone horribly wrong on her first day at work. But I smiled faintly when I saw the message, which had been sent not too long ago: Hurry home, dinner’s almost ready!
After a day like this, there was nothing I wanted more than to go home to Abby and a good, home-cooked meal.
For a moment, I wondered whether she meant my place or hers. After all, the “home” part was pretty vague. But then again, she had been spending most nights at my place lately. It was a pretty safe bet that she meant my place. She had a key, after all. And either way, I wanted to get out of my suit and into something more comfortable. Might as well head home, see if she was there, and if not, then head over to her place.
When I got to my place, though, the heavenly aroma of warm food wafted through the house from the moment I stepped in the front door. I almost groaned with relief as I kicked off my shoes and padded into the kitchen, shedding my suit jacket over the back of a chair and making a beeline for Abby, who was over by the stove.
“Hey,” I said, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face against the side of her neck.
“Hey, yourself,” she said, a smile in her voice as she leaned back against me for a moment.
“It smells amazing,” I said.
“Chicken pot pies,” Abby told me. “Leanne gave me the recipe. Apparently they’re one of Matt’s new favorite fall foods, and it sounded like just the perfect thing for the weather.”
“Definitely sounds good,” I sighed. I pulled away from her with regret.
“How was your first day?” she asked, turning to face me.
I shook my head. “It didn’t go very well,” I admitted. “There were plenty of witnesses from that night at the bar, and their recollection of the evening definitely favors Gerrard.” I paused and shook my head. “I’m actually surprised they were able to round up so many of them.”
“Yikes,” Abby said, looking worried. She paused. “I know you said your lawyer has a strong case, but are you sure that you don’t need me to testify on your behalf? I’m the reason that you got in the fight in the first place. And I was the only one who was really listening, probably, before the fight broke out. Maybe I could paint a more accurate picture for the judge and jury.”
She sounded so earnest, and I could tell that she really wanted to help. But I couldn’t ask her to do that. I knew what her feelings were on that night, and I knew that, like she had said, I deserved to face the consequences for my actions. Besides, I knew she didn’t approve of that fight. I didn’t want her to have to relive it.
And the media. They would be all over it. I had promised that I would do whatever was in my power to keep her safe from those wolves. Throwing her right into the midst of this trial would be the opposite of that.
I leaned in to kiss her gently but shook my head as I pulled away. “Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “I’m sure the lawyer has everything in hand, and I don’t want to drag you into all of it. But I do appreciate the offer.”
Abby looked like she wanted to protest, but eventually, she nodded, albeit unhappily. I was spared having to respond to that look by the oven timer going off. Abby turned to pull the pot pies out of the oven.
“Those look perfect.” I groaned, already salivating just at the look of them. Abby grinned over her shoulder at me, and that was that.
We sat down to a peaceful dinner together, with Abby catching me up on what had happened at the office that day in my absence. I smiled hearing how perfectly she had handled a disagreement in the marketing team meeting. She looked uncertain, though, like she wasn’t sure she had made the right decision. I assured her that she had and was rewarded with another bright smile.
With each new smile from her, I felt more of my stress from the day melt away, until I could finally just breathe again. Abby favored me with one last smile as she grabbed my empty plate, then brought it over to the sink.
“Let’s just leave the dishes for tonight,” I told her, following her and putting my hands on her hips, pressing up against her. I brushed some of her hair back, kissing her neck, and I could feel her shudder against me. It sent lust zinging straight for my cock, which was already somewhat interested after having listened to her detail her competent work as a CEO that day.
I never would have thought it would be such a turn-on to find a woman who was so brilliant at running my family business.
Abby turned toward me, putting her hands on my shoulders to steady herself. “Whatever you say, boss,” she breathed.
I captured her lips in a heated kiss, pushing her back against the countertop, unable to resist the urge to slide a leg between hers and grind against her. She moaned into the kiss, her fingers creeping around the back of my neck to pull me closer, until the kiss was almost bruising in its fiery intensity.
When I let go of her, she looked raw and open already, as though we were already fucking rather than simply making out in the kitchen. I kept my dark, smoldering gaze on her as I grabbed her hands and walked backward toward my bedroom.
It took us a while to make it there. I couldn’t quit kissing her, pressing her up against the wall in the hallway, the banister, any surface we came across. As I kissed her, my fingers worked at the zipper on the back of her dress, slowly dragging it down, tracing her spine with featherlight touches. She was giggling by the time we made it to the top of the stairs, but her laughter died on a needy whimper as I slid the dress off her shoulders, carelessly letting it fall to the floor, before I pulled her nearly-naked body against mine again, fingers finding the cleft between her thighs.
Chapter 8
Abby
I WAS PRACTICALLY SHAKING with need by the time Daniel led me into his bedroom and started stripping off his own clothes. I fell back on the bed, somehow already nearly naked, and watched him with a hooded gaze, absently trailing my fingers across my own skin to satiate the desperate desire coursing through my body.
I honestly didn’t know how I was this turned on. But somewhere between the kitchen and his bedroom, my lust had become almost overpowering. Part of it had to do with the approving looks Daniel had been giving me during dinner as I told him about my first day as his stand-in at the office. There was something about knowing that he really did believe I could do the job.
It also had to do with the fact that, I was sure, we
both needed to blow off a little steam after a stressful day. It was nice to lean into his body, to find a place where I fit so well, to turn my face up toward his and forget all about my worries.
But there was something more to this than just blowing off steam. Daniel was more gentle with me than he had ever been, running his hands down my sides, trailing soft touches around the edges of my nipples. When he finally pushed his fingers into me, he set a slow, easy rhythm, focusing more on varying the pressure against my walls than on quick thrusts.
He held me close to him as he plunged his member deep into my core, covering territory that his fingers hadn’t been able to reach. I gasped, clinging to him, moving my body with his.
It didn’t take much for him to bring me over the edge—just a few correctly placed thrusts and I was cumming, his name on my lips. But he continued to rock into me, chasing pleasure of his own, and my core continued to burn with rapidly increasing need as I whimpered and begged for more.
I could tell that he was close as well, his muscles drawing taut through his chest and abs, his face twisting in surprise as lust spiked sharply through his body. He pulled me into one final, searing, all-encompassing kiss, his tongue desperately seeking mine as his hips stuttered off rhythm. He was all around me, inside me, filling me and keeping me safe.
I spilled again, unable to help it, my walls clenching around his twitching, spurting cock. My body sank into the memory-foam mattress, and a deep exhaustion settled over me, a combination of the sex, the crazy day, and my terrible sleep from the night before. Although I still didn’t feel any more confident in my position as McGregor Enterprises’ CEO, I knew then that I wouldn’t have any trouble sleeping that night.
A slow smile spread across my face as Daniel maneuvered us so that my head was resting on his chest. He bent to kiss my forehead. I could hear his heartbeat still thudding from exertion, a reminder of what we had just done, as though the loose and limber feeling of my body wasn’t proof enough.
Again, those three words. I love you, I thought. But I was too exhausted to give voice to them now, and anyway, Daniel no doubt knew that without my saying it.
I relaxed against him, enjoying the way he toyed with my hair as I fell asleep curled around him.
Chapter 9
Daniel
FRIDAY WAS THE FIRST day I heard my lawyer sound anything less than confident about this trial. As Jude and I prepped that morning before entering the courtroom, she suddenly said, “You know, things could get dicey with this trial.”
I grimaced at how serious she looked, at least thanking my lucky stars that I had a whole legal team in my court. She was my lawyer’s co-council and just as determined to fix this... “You already told me about the possible sentences,” I reminded her.
“I know,” Jude said, nodding. “I just want to make sure you’re prepared. I’ll do everything I can to get the jury on your side, but the public is really getting involved with this case. It’s all over social media, and to be honest, the facts aren’t exactly on our side. All the chaos is working to Gerrard’s advantage.”
“I know.” I sighed. I had avoided looking at any of the news that morning, but Austin had sent me a message letting me know that there was a lot of bad press out there. Honestly, though, I wasn’t so much worried for myself than I was about how all of this would affect McGregor Enterprises and, by proxy, Abby. I didn’t want to think about how hard it could make her position as interim CEO, even though obviously none of this mess was her fault.
I shrugged at Jude. “There’s nothing we can do except plead our case, right?”
“Right,” she said.
We headed into the courtroom not long thereafter. Gerrard’s lawyer basically annihilated my case, reminding the jury again and again that it wasn’t just about my beating up my former employee, but I had also fired him for “uncertain reasons,” hinting at what those reasons might have been, in light of who I’d been at the bar with that night. They talked about how long Gerrard had been at McGregor Enterprises, and all the long hours that he’d “had” to pull with me.
I was fuming. Half of what they said was only partially true, and the other half, well. The way that they were embellishing things was clearly biasing the jury.
When I took the stand, I was determined to clear things up, to tell the jury the whole truth of the matter. But with the questions I was asked, especially during cross-examination, it only became more and more apparent to me that the jury was clearly on Gerrard’s side. I could see them nodding away, scribbling notes, frowning with their arms crossed over their chests as I tried to defend my actions.
I wanted to tell them all about how Gerrard had been selling information about me for a couple years, about how he was in violation of his contract, about how he clearly had some sort of vendetta against me. But after talking to Jude about it, I knew that I couldn’t bring all of that up. If I wanted to countersue Gerrard, then I needed to do that the legal way. I couldn’t just introduce that information into this trial.
And on top of that, there was still that lack of evidence. It would just be hearsay if I started going off about it in the middle of the trial, and I was worried how Gerrard’s lawyer might try to spin that. It wasn’t like we could introduce members of the press as witnesses, even if I could get one or two of them to agree to testify against Gerrard.
There was no way for the jury to really understand the reasons behind my punching Gerrard.
No, it was very clear: I had lost the case. I just had to wonder what the sentencing would be.
Jude didn’t think the judge was going to be too harsh. It was my first offense, after all, and I did a lot of charity work thanks to my business. The maximum sentence for assault in Chicago was a year in jail and/or fines of up to $2500, but Jude was pretty sure I wouldn’t have to serve any jail time. Especially not if I agreed to go to anger management classes for a month or so in light of the trial. I hated that that would be another waste of my time, another thing drawing me away from work and Abby, but then again, so would time in jail.
But I was starting to get a little worried, based on the way that the jury was looking at me. It wasn’t about the money. Damn, I would pay him ten times as much as the maximum fine, plus lawyer fees and whatever the fuck else. If he just hadn’t had to bring this to court. It was too late for that now, though.
At the end of the day, after a quick recess, the judge was back with the verdict: a fine of $2500, plus all of Gerrard’s legal fees. No jail time, but anger management classes and some community service. It was a pretty light sentencing, all things told.
But it still stuck in my craw. Especially as I had to walk out of there, with flashbulbs going off left, right, and center, the press peppering me with questions about the trial, about my new advisor, about whether Abby really stood beside me through all of this.
Worse was the text from Austin about the morning’s gossip columns. Apparently, they’d caught Abby on her way into work that morning and she’d grimaced her way through a few questions before security managed to get her into the building safely. My fingers clenched into fists, and I wished I could go back to that night at the bar and punch Gerrard all over again, just for doing this.
I should have been there for Abby. I should have walked into that building with her, kept her safe from the press. None of this should ever have happened. We should have been able to stick to our nice morning routine we’d established, walking hand and hand into work and coming home together at the end of every day.
No, the money didn’t matter. I’d pay Gerrard whatever it took. I was just pissed because that asshole had won. But at least it was all over now, quickly, and I didn’t need to waste any more time on him. Hopefully, this was the last that I would ever see of him.
I got in my car and headed home, eager to see Abby and find out how her day was.
Chapter 10
Abby
IF I THOUGHT I WAS nervous going into work on Thursday morning, it was nothing
compared to how I felt on Friday evening, waiting for Daniel to come home. The whole day had been a shitshow for me, but I had also seen online that he lost against Gerrard. Amazing, honestly, that the stories were already up when the trial had pretty much just concluded. But I was grateful to them so that I would know in advance of the mood that Daniel would be in when he got home.
I could tell from his expression in the photos alongside the news stories that he was pissed with the way the trial had turned out. What I wanted was to make him forget about all of that, to have something like a repeat of the previous night: cook a good meal for the two of us, go upstairs with him afterward, fall into bed together. This morning, waking up had been such a pleasure. Daniel had still been there in bed next to me, his hands warm against my skin as he held me close.
It had been the perfect morning, really. Until I had gotten to the office.
I sighed and ran a hand back through my hair. After my first day at the office hadn’t been so bad, I honestly had let my guard down today. And that was stupid of me. I knew that. Now, I was waiting for Daniel to come home, and all I could think about was the bad news I had to tell him on top of everything else he had already been through that day.
I had practically paced a hole in the floor by the time Daniel got home. He paused in the doorway of the living room, frowning at me. I saw a flicker of concern in his eyes, despite the tight pinch of anger in his expression. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I made a mistake at work today,” I admitted. “Just like I knew I would.” I couldn’t help how miserable I sounded about it. I still felt stupid just thinking about it.
Daniel’s anger flashed into real fury on his face for a moment, and I almost flinched back. I probably would have if we hadn’t had half the room between us still. I knew, instinctively, that Daniel would never hurt me. But in that moment, he sure seemed pissed.
