My Enemy Next Door: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Nicole London

  “Apartment hunting. I just signed the lease!”

  “Are the cockroaches in this one included, or is the landlord making you pay extra?”

  “Funny.” I rolled my eyes. “You know, I wouldn’t feel so rushed about finding a new place if a certain someone wasn’t kicking me out of his place at the end of this month.”

  “I’m not kicking you out. I’m gently pushing you out of the door.”

  “All because, let’s see, how did you put it? My moping over Brandon is holding you back from having more one night stands.”

  “No, I said that you were starting to cramp my lifestyle.” There was a smile in his voice. “You’re making assumptions about what I meant, and I have no idea who Brandon is.”

  “Thank you.” I stepped outside and hailed a cab. “Why are really up right now, Sebastian?”

  “It’s a long, depressing story. Come down to my office the moment you get settled, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  “Oh, and wait. Did you see that your voice—I mean, “Chassie Claire’s voice,” was mentioned in The Eargasm Books Podcast this morning?”

  I gasped. “You’re kidding.”

  “I would never,” he said. “I’ll send you the link. See you at the office soon.”

  Seconds after he ended the call, he sent me a text.

  Sebastian: Sexiest female voice that I can’t get enough of! Link: www.eargasmpodcast.com

  My heart fluttered as I read over the host’s transcript.

  Unbeknownst to my coworkers, I narrated sexy audiobooks for indie romance authors whenever I wasn’t practicing the law.

  From contemporary, new adult, to erotic—especially erotica, I lived different lives every week while lending my voice to different characters. And since I was currently in the middle of the longest dry spell ever, I tended to record all of the sex scenes first.

  In a perfect world, I’d ditch Lady Justice for Lady One-Handed Reads, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the leap.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Even though I was making more money narrating than handling cases at this point, I couldn’t fathom turning my back on all the hard work I’d done over the years for a career with unknown longevity.

  The indie romance world was an unpredictable ocean with too many ebbs and flows—too many waves and short-term trends that crashed and never recovered. I’d followed far too many authors who once had it all, but lost everything in the end.

  The law, on the other hand, was safe and steady. There would always be those who need to be defended and protected, and there was never any danger of a market collapse.

  If only this was guaranteed …

  Sighing, I reread the host’s review of my work repeatedly.

  After committing her most flattering words to memory, I looked outside the cab’s window and realized that I was still sitting in the exact same spot.

  We were in gridlock traffic, and there was no point in me paying a fee for what was bound to be an hours-long stall.

  “I’ll get out here,” I said, handing the driver a few twenty-dollar bills.

  I stepped into the first coffee cafe I saw, and decided to wait out the traffic.

  Ordering a coffee, I took out my current case. I worked on it for all of five minutes and opened my kindle app.

  Inspired, I began reading the erotic romance that I needed to narrate tonight instead.

  This is a much better use of my time.

  Tyler

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  Do not agree to work at this fucking firm. Do not agree to work at this fucking firm…

  I forced a smile as another associate—a brunette named Emily, moved behind the desk and pretended to pick up a piece of trash.

  Just like the redhead and the other brunette from fifteen minutes ago, she came up with some bullshit excuse to walk into the office and stare at me.

  But Emily took things a bit further.

  Biting her lip and making eye contact, she made it more than clear that she wanted me to see her lacy, red thong under her short dress. She also seemed completely oblivious that her boss was in the middle of interviewing me.

  “Thank you for agreeing to visit my firm in person, Mr. Hudson.” Mr. Walsh of ‘Walsh and White’ shook my hand as Emily picked up another piece of invisible trash. "I've watched your career in Seattle from afar and I’m highly impressed.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “What brings you to New York?”

  “I need a change of pace, but I want to continue practicing the law,” I said, noticing that Emily wasn’t leaving; she was settling into a corner and watching.

  “You don’t need the money, though.” He leaned back in his chair, and I hoped that he would stay on topic for more than a minute this time. “You did pretty well for yourself on the West Coast. Forty-million dollars in settlements, correct?”

  “Fifty.”

  “Well, damn,” he said, looking impressed. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here since our city is way better, but—Oh! Did I tell you how my partner and I started this firm?”

  Only a thousand times already.

  “No, sir.” I smiled. “You haven’t done it enough, I guess.”

  “Eh.” He waved his hand. “I’ll run it down for you later. I’m honored that you’ve answered my request for an interview, and that you’re willing to help us on a big case for the next few weeks.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Walsh, I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

  “But you will.” He leaned forward. “I’m willing to pay double of what any other firm in this city will offer. What else could you possibly want?”

  A sane set of coworkers.

  “Did you love living in Seattle?” he asked, changing the subject. “Was the Puget Sound beautiful or what?”

  I didn't answer his question. Given his track record over the past four hours, he’d answer it himself.

  “Yes, I always thought it was a lovely place as well.” He smiled. “My first wife and I used to love going there. My second wife hated it, so I'm glad I moved on to lucky number three. She loves it!”

  “She really does …” Emily winked at me from the corner.

  How the hell is this firm in New York’s top five?

  “Since you’ve agreed to help us on the case for the next few weeks, I’m covering your place of residence.” Walsh slid a brochure for a place called The Barclays toward me. “It’s a stunning place, and I’m willing to cover it for up to a year if you join my firm on a permanent basis.”

  “I’m only offering to work on one case for now, and it's still a maybe. I have other firms to visit this week.”

  "Fair enough." He held up his hands in a slight surrender. Then he stood to his feet.

  "Allow me to grab a few people and introduce you to who you'll be working with while you're here,” he said. “Maybe you can get back to whoever kept calling you during our library tour?”

  Oh, right. I waited for him to step out of the office, then I waited for Emily to follow suit.

  She didn’t.

  She kept staring.

  I held back a sigh and pulled my phone out of my pocket.

  All of the buzzing during my initial walk with Mr. Walsh was all for nothing. All of the missed calls were from my ex-wife, Ashley.

  I debated for several seconds on whether I should return her call now or never.

  When another female associate suddenly walked inside to “find something I can’t remember,” I gave in and returned her call.

  She and Emily could listen to my entire conversation for all I cared.

  It rang once.

  It rang twice.

  "Oh my god, I was worried that you weren't going to call back!” Ashley answered.,

  “I almost didn’t,” I said. “What do you want, Ashley?”

  “I want you to know that I recently left my new therapist's office,” she said. “We had a nice, long chat about taking responsibility and
owning my past. It lasted four hours.”

  “Good to hear that you’re putting the settlement money to work on something other than expensive handbags and posts for Instagram.”

  “I feel like we deserve a second chance together,” she said. “Our type of love was something most people will never experience. We lasted too long to walk away from it.”

  “We were married for a month, Ashley. One month.”

  “It’s a month that I'll always cherish.”

  “You slept with two of my interns a week after the honeymoon.”

  My audience of two blushed and whispered, finally rushing out of the room.

  “For the umpteenth time, I didn't mean to do that,” she said. “It was a spur of the moment thing, and that has to count for something.”

  “Part of our dissolution agreement is that you won't contact me unless it’s for something life-threatening, Ashley,” I said. “If you reach out to me again, I'm calling the judge and you'll lose the money I gave you. Are we clear?”

  The sound of her ending the call gave me the only answer I wanted to hear.

  “Are you ready to meet your potential new team, Mr. Hudson?” Mr. Walsh peered his head through the door.

  Not at all. “Absolutely."

  Chassie

  Present Day

  Manhattan, New York

  Later that morning

  “His cock slides between my lips, long and thick,” I whispered into the personal microphone that I kept in my office. “Inch by inch, I take him all the way down my throat. He grips my hair and guides me back and forth against his length. Then he—”

  “Really?” Sebastian walked into my office, cutting my narration short. “I tell you that I need to see you once you get settled in, and you decide to go for an audible quickie?”

  “Sorry.” I tucked the mic into a drawer. “What’s the long, depressing story you want to tell me?”

  “I think that karma is making me invisible and replacing me with someone else.”

  “What?”

  “Hear me out.” He shut the door, looking dead-ass serious. “When I walked into this building today, none of the secretaries looked up at me like they usually do. They were blushing, but not for me.”

  “Did I already give you that A Study in How to Be Less Conceited DVD?”

  “Twice.” He didn’t crack a smile. “After that, I went to the coffee bar downstairs and the barista charged me full price for my coffee instead of giving me a discount and an invite to her apartment later.”

  “You never take her up on that anyway.”

  “She didn’t even offer to give me one of her home-cooked muffins.” He looked somewhat distraught. “She can’t bake worth a damn and her concoctions always look like burnt vaginas, but I look forward to her offering me one every morning.”

  I gave him a blank stare.

  “There is another man here,” he said. “Another man who is taking my spot as the main attraction.”

  “Okay.” I clasped my hands atop the desk. “I’m getting you a third copy of that DVD for your birthday this year.”

  “Mr. Walsh is currently preoccupied with him right now,” he said. “The guy has fallen straight from heaven and according to all of the whispers I’m hearing, he’s ‘Mr. Fucking Wonderful.”

  “Right.” I sipped my coffee. “So, you’re upset because every woman here isn’t fawning over you like usual?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “It honestly hurts.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Some hotshot from Seattle, apparently.” He leaned against my desk. “Walsh brought him in for help on the Wyatt & Bing case.”

  What? “You mean, my case?”

  “Yeah. The case you’ve halfway worked on since you’ve been too busy recording all those naughty tapes at night.” He crossed his arms. “Don’t worry. I told him that you’re having personal issues, and that’s why you’ve been slacking lately.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but it was no use.

  “Slacking” was the generous way of saying it. I’d worked three hours to one when it came to the audiobooks versus my legal work for the past few weeks.

  Okay, months …

  “It’s not my fault that the top authors keep requesting me,” I said. “They love my voice, and I love that they pay really well.”

  “Why don’t you just take a hiatus and work on the audiobooks full-time?”

  “I’m too scared,” I said.

  “I’ve seen the checks you’re getting.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t be scared about shit if I were you.”

  “The entire book industry could all go under in a heartbeat,” I said. “If I quit and that happens, I could end up depressed and living in the past like my dad.”

  “Your dad is a simp who takes way too long to get over any women he falls for,” he said. “No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  Before I could ask him to listen to my latest recording, my phone rang.

  “This is Chassie Heritage at Walsh & White,” I answered. “Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with today?”

  “Why hello there, Miss Heritage.” Mr. Walsh’s voice was on the line. “I see from our public schedule that you have a gap at this moment. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Great. Well, we have a new lawyer who is considering a term with our team, and I’m inviting everyone up to meet him. Is Sebastian with you?”

  Sebastian made a cutting gesture with his hand.

  “No, sir. He’s not in here.”

  “Well, whenever you see him, tell him to drop by for a quick meet, too. Will you?”

  “Will do,” I said. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  I waited for him to end the call before setting down the receiver.

  “Seriously, Sebastian? You’re scared to meet a guy who may be just as attractive as you?”

  “It’s an ego-thing,” he said, taking a seat in my chair. “Hurry up and report back. I’ll listen to a few minutes of your latest recording while you’re gone.”

  “Sold.” I grabbed my jacket and headed upstairs to Mr. Walsh’s office. As the elevator rose, I mentally rehearsed the same lines I gave to every new lawyer who came here.

  “This firm is like family. I’m looking forward to seeing you fit right in.”

  “I hope you’ll love New York as much as I do.”

  “Feel free to stop by my office with questions at anytime.”

  I knocked on Mr. Walsh’s door, and he opened it immediately.

  “Come on in, Miss Heritage.” He ushered me inside. “Chassie Heritage this is Tyler Hudson. Tyler Hudson, this is Chassie Heritage.”

  What the fuck?

  All of the color drained from my face as I set sight on the man I hadn’t seen since college, the one who was the worst entry on my F.U. List.

  Convinced that my eyes were deceiving me, I blinked a few times as he stood to his feet.

  His stunning green eyes met mine, and the room suddenly felt ten times smaller.

  This man was still—all these years later, the sexiest man I’d ever seen in my life. My memories had failed to do him any type of justice, and I knew now—more than ever, that no picture would ever fully capture how perfect he looked.

  Dressed in a custom navy-blue suit and silver tie, his jet-black hair was cut low, and the dimple in his right cheek deepened as he flashed a pearly white smile.

  I tried to turn away—to exit stage left and leave this unwanted production, but he pinned me to the spot with his gaze.

  “Your name is Chassie now?” He smirked. “I could’ve sworn it was Kelsie.”

  “Then I guess we’re two for two,” I said. “I could’ve sworn that you didn’t exist anymore.”

  “I don’t see why,” he said. “You would’ve been invited to my funeral.”

  “To spit on your casket?”

  “To cry about what good friends we could’ve been.”

  “My friends don’t try to one-up
each other every chance they get.”

  “When will you introduce me to them?”

  “The day I get that funeral invitation.”

  Silence.

  His lips curved into that sexy smile that was still capable of making my panties wet.

  “It’s good to see you again,” he said.

  “Is it, really?”

  “Yes.” He glanced at the V-cut of my dress. “Really.”

  “You two know each other?” Mr. Walsh smiled, looking between us. “How?”

  “Mr. Hudson played a very pivotal role in my life years ago.” I beat him to the punch. “He was the perfect, leading asshole and his performance will never be forgotten.”

  “I remember our previous script a lot differently.” Tyler quipped. “I believe you played the victim with a distorted sense of reality.”

  “Only one of us was brought to tears.”

  “Good actresses are typically great at those.”

  “You two were in some type of drama program?” Mr. Walsh asked. “That’s how you know each other?”

  We stared at him blankly.

  “I’ll have keep that in mind just in case we get clients with an interest in that,” he said. “A few monologues would be a great ice-breaker. What other law firm in this city can offer something like that to their clients?”

  Silence.

  “Anyway—” Mr. Walsh cleared his throat. “Tyler is one hell of a lawyer, Miss Heritage. His track record honestly reminds me of you before …”

  “Before what?” I asked.

  “Before your personal issues,” he said. “It’s hard getting over a boyfriend who turned out to be a felon. Sebastian has told me all about your crying spells.”

  Tyler raised his eyebrow, and I made a mental note to strangle Sebastian later.

  “I’m one hundred percent over Brandon, Mr. Walsh.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.” He smiled. “Like I was saying, Tyler won a similar case to the one you’re working on, and I figured you could use some major help. He’ll be first chair, and you’ll be second.”