I give her a wan smile in return.
The offices around the edge of The Pit are all done in clear glass. Every single wall—even the ones in between offices—are clear. It makes what is already a hugely impressive workspace appear even larger. I can see through the clear offices that the windows overlooking the Raleigh skyline are all floor to ceiling, so the natural lighting is amazing.
We walk toward a corner office. Ford sits behind a desk, typing on his laptop. As we approach, his head pops up. His gaze first goes to his paralegal, but only for a moment before he focuses on me. A wide smile breaks out on his face, and I forget all about his gorgeous paralegal. He doesn’t have eyes for her.
At least not today, anyway.
Ford stands from his desk and motions me in as he walks toward the door. The paralegal sort of melts away. When I step inside his office, he shuts the glass door behind me.
“I want to kiss you,” he says in a low voice as we stand toe to toe.
“This would be why glass walls suck,” I point out.
He laughs and reaches past my shoulder to press a button on the wall by the door he just closed. Immediately—almost magically—the glass walls turn milky and opaque.
“What was that?” I ask. I turn to place my fingertips against the glass wall beside the door.
“Smoke-filled glass,” Ford answers as he steps in close behind me. His hands come to my waist to hold me in place, and he cranes around to press a kiss to the side of my neck. “Now no one can see us in here.”
My head falls back onto his shoulder, followed by the rest of my body melting back into him. When he’d asked me out to lunch today, I eagerly accepted. It might have had something to do with the fact he’d woken up in my bed this morning. My eyes close at the memory of how thoroughly he fucked my brains out. I’d woken up with his hand between my legs and finished with an earth-shaking orgasm. I was semi-addled when he asked me to lunch today.
“Ready to go get something to eat?” he asks.
I startle and blink, opening my eyes. He releases his hold, and I turn to face him. “Not until I have a chance to check your office out.”
Ford smiles and takes a step back from me, turning toward the interior of his office. He motions his hand for me to come further in.
When we were making plans for lunch, he’d offered to come get me at my office. It was sweet and gentlemanly, but I was going to be downtown for a meeting at the DA’s office. Given the proximity to Ford’s office, I couldn’t resist the offer to come here because I have to admit I’m a little more than curious about this side of Ford.
I know a little bit about art. I attended art galas when I lived in New York, as well as spent a lot of time in the numerous museums there. Every once in a blue moon, I could get Adam to go to an exhibit. Even so, I really couldn’t identify particular artists.
I can, however, identify quality.
Ford said the sculptures in this office cost twenty grand, but I can only see two pieces. In the corner stands a life-sized bronze sculpture of Themis, goddess of justice, with a sword in one hand, scales in the other, and her eyes blindfolded. Another sculpture about two feet high done in what I believe to be white alabaster is placed on a pedestal table. It’s an abstract of nothing but waves, curves, and intertwining pieces.
“Impressive,” I murmur. I move closer to Themis, although most in our profession refer to her as the scales of justice.
“Still like your basket of puppies picture better,” he says from behind me, and my stomach flips over the sincerity in his voice. I turn to him with a smile.
Of the millions of ways I find Ford Daniels to be attractive, this is perhaps top of the list. Telling me he likes my cheap little picture full of memories and meaning over his insanely beautiful but ridiculously priced objets d’art. Not once since I met Ford had I felt he was snobbish or looked down on things, and I didn’t need him to say that to confirm my intuition. But what he did do was validate the importance of my art to me, and that makes him… yeah, super hot.
“You want to bang me right now, don’t you?” he asks teasingly. I’m guessing the expression on my face was easy to read.
“Not in the slightest,” I say with a prim sniff. “But I totally wouldn’t say no to lunch at Beasley’s.”
More formerly known as Beasley’s Chicken + Honey, they make the best chicken and waffles. I don’t get downtown a lot, so it’s a real treat for me to eat there.
“You got it,” Ford says, and I move toward the door. He stops me just as quick though when he says, “While you’re here, let me give you this.”
He leans over his desk and grabs a document. There’s a slight hesitation before he hands it to me.
When I glance down at it, I raise my eyebrows in surprise. It’s his designation of expert witnesses he intends to use to evaluate the property for clusters of nests.
There are five of them.
“You work fast,” I murmur in awe as my gaze comes up to meet his. “Less than twenty-four hours from the hearing and you have your dream team lined up?”
Ford appears slightly chagrined. “Let’s just say I was busy yesterday afternoon.”
My eyes cut back down to the document. I recognize three of the names, and they will say whatever Powell wants them to say.
“I’m sorry,” Ford says.
My head jerks up and my chin pulls in, completely stunned by the remorse in his voice. “Whatever for?”
“I don’t know,” he says as he blows out a frustrated breath. “I want to do a good job for my client—”
“You should do a good job for your client,” I assure him. “The best, in fact. And hiring good experts is doing just that.”
“We’re going to steamroll over you because we can outspend you.” His jaw is locked, his expression hard.
“Ford,” I say softly. I lay a hand on his forearm and give it a squeeze. “This case has nothing to do with us, okay? That was our agreement. Please don’t let this bother you.”
He studies me for a moment, and it’s long enough I could totally get lost in his eyes. Finally, he nods in agreement.
“What about you?” he asks as an afterthought. “Have you located any experts?”
“Not yet,” I mutter. I fold his designation of experts and slide it into my purse. “At least not any in my price range.”
“What’s your price range?”
My eyes lift to his. “Free. I need them to do it pro bono.”
“And why is that?” he clips out. Once again, he’s letting this bother him. He’s letting the problems with my case bother him, and I don’t want him to have that type of obligation.
I try my best to play it off. “Justice for All Animals doesn’t have the funds right now, but I’m sure I can find someone to help. I’ve got lots of calls out to the wildlife community.”
“You do realize if you don’t get an expert, you’re going to lose this case, right?”
He’s not telling me anything I don’t know. “I’ll find someone,” I say firmly.
Even if I have to dip into my personal savings to do it. Of course, I don’t voice that to Ford because I know he would not like that at all. Whatever this is between us, it’s clear that feelings are now involved. I think this stopped being just good sex and companionship within the last few minutes.
“Now,” I say with a chastising tone. “I’m starved, and you promised me lunch at Beasley’s. I want to get my waffle on.”
That does the trick. Ford’s face evens out and the worry dissipates. Waffles can work some serious magic sometimes.
He takes my elbow, and we move to the door. But before we reach it, the knob turns and it pushes inward.
I swear I hear Ford murmur, “I’ll be damned,” before we even see who is coming in. Almost as if he knows who it is just by the way the knob is turning and he’s surprised to have this visitor.
The door swings in, and a woman sticks her head through the opening.
It’s none other than Midge
Payne. I’ve never met the woman before, but everyone knows who this woman is. She’s a legend in this state. Plus, when I was looking at the firm’s website, I also read her bio. Ford told me a little bit about her, and I knew she was reclusive and eccentric.
She’s stunning. No clue how old she is but based on when she graduated law school according to the website, she has to be in her sixties.
The woman doesn’t look it, though. Her face is almost completely without any lines or wrinkles except a tiny bit around her mouth and eyes. She has pale silver hair that’s clearly from a bottle and cut into a stylish, sleek bob. It is amazing on her.
She’s simply stunning.
Midge glances at Ford, then to me, before she pushes the door all the way open and enters. Her outfit is spectacular. While I don’t know a lot about art, I do know about fashion. It’s a top-end designer… Versace if I had to take a quick guess.
A pencil-styled skirt in a swirling pattern of light blue and steel blue with black accents. A sleeveless black silk blouse with a big, loose bow at the base of her throat. Thin, spiked sandals in black with straps around the ankle. Not exactly attorney businesslike, but dressy chic for sure. I love this woman’s style.
She shuts the door behind her, and I steal a glance at Ford. He’s clearly stunned to see her here. Not a little surprised, like oh, what a nice surprise.
But like in his jaw has dropped.
“Midge Payne,” Midge says regally as she holds her hand out to me.
“Viveka Jones,” I say automatically as we shake. She’s a thin woman and the bones in her hand are slight, yet she squeezes my hand firmly and with confidence.
“It’s a pleasure.” Midge inclines her head at me and releases my hand. She turns to Ford. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Not at all,” Ford says, and he seems completely at ease with Midge. So his surprise doesn’t seem to be a bad thing, just… surprised. “We were going to lunch. Would you like to join us?”
“That’s a lovely offer,” Midge says graciously and turns to me. Her stare is appraising and curious. “Maybe some other time. I won’t hold you two up.”
“Did you need something?” Ford asks. “We’re not in a rush.”
Midge shakes her head and holds up a hand. “Truly not that important. We’ll talk later.”
She again gives me a gracious nod of her head and a smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Jones.”
“Likewise,” I tell her.
When she’s gone and the door shuts behind her, Ford says, “Huh,” as if in contemplation.
“What’s up?” I ask, because something happened here and I’m not quite sure what it was.
“That was just weird,” Ford says, still staring at the door that had closed behind Midge.
“The senior partner coming into your office was weird?” I ask confused, because he sounds beyond flummoxed.
“Yes, weird.” He turns to me, eyes twinkling. “Midge never leaves her office to visit anyone. And I mean never. If she needed something, I would have been summoned there. That’s how I knew who it was when the door started opening because no one would dare enter my office without knocking first.”
“Except Midge,” I guess.
“Except Midge, but she never does that.”
“She said it wasn’t an emergency, but it had to be something important.”
Ford starts laughing as if he’s just realized something. “That sly fox of a woman.”
“What?”
“She wanted to check you out,” he says, and my mouth falls open in surprise.
“Why?” I gasp.
“She must have seen your name on my calendar,” he muses.
“What does my name have to do with it? She doesn’t even know me.”
“She knows you’re the attorney representing Justice for All Animals,” he explains. “And because she’s about the most perceptive person I’ve ever known—like creepily perceptive—she knows we’re sleeping together.”
“What?” I screech, and Ford winces. I lower my voice to a harsh whisper. “How could she possibly know that?”
I’m sidetracked when Ford’s hand shoots out, wraps around the back of my neck, and pulls me into him for a hard, penetrating kiss. My hands clutch into his suit jacket, and I’m seeing stars by the time he releases me.
Blinking my eyes to reorient myself, I hold my hands up to Ford, who seems way too amused by this. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s back up a minute. The senior partner of your firm and one of the most respected attorneys in this state knows that you—one of her attorneys—and an opposing lawyer—are sleeping together? Because she’s perceptive?”
“Yup.”
“And you’re not freaked out by this?” I ask. “I mean, what we’re doing is bordering on unethical.”
“It’s not unethical if it doesn’t impact the case,” he says blandly. “And besides, Midge is more apt to encourage rather than discourage it. She’s sort of a rebel and a mischievous meddler at the same time.”
“Okay, that’s weird on so many levels, but how did she even know who I was? You said she probably recognized my name. Surely this case is far beneath her notice and attention.”
Ford can’t hide the immediate flush to his face.
“What?” I press. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He scratches his head, a sheepish expression on his face. “Midge is following the case because she’s involved in the Swan’s Mill development.”
“Why? Like she’s counsel for it or something?”
“Not exactly,” he hedges.
“Ford,” I say with a frustrated growl. “Just tell me.”
“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “Midge owns the property. She’s an investor in the project.”
“You’re kidding?” My stomach drops because this puts a new wrinkle in our relationship. It’s one thing for Ford to use his best legal skills in battling me for Drake Powell, a man I despise and I don’t think Ford is that crazy about either.
But this right here… he’s got a serious vested interest in this case. His boss is the one who is going to be a big loser if I prevail.
Ford takes a step toward me, but I take two back until the door prevents me from going further. I hold my hands out to stop his advancement. “Okay, that changes everything.”
“It changes nothing.” His voice is hard, his expression determined. “Midge trusts me to do my job right. She also trusts if I can’t do it right, I’ll either eliminate the distraction or I’ll step down. I need you to trust I’ll do the same.”
“So I’m a distraction?” I ask hesitantly, because that stings just a little.
Ford is on me, his fingers sliding into my hair and then grasping my head tight. He bends down, peering right into my eyes before saying, “If by distraction, you mean you drive me crazy and inhabit my thoughts way too much, then yes… that’s exactly what you are. Right now, though… I like it. A lot. Don’t count on me giving that up any time soon.”
Sting is gone. Legs are weak.
I kind of want to give him another blow job right now.
“Now,” he says softly. “Can we go to lunch?”
I nod, but I don’t have a chance to voice my assent.
That’s because his mouth is on mine and we’re both distracted for a little bit.
CHAPTER 13
Ford
She’s genuinely surprised to see me standing on her porch, but she doesn’t hesitate in opening the door wider to let me in. I can hear the scrabbling of dog feet on the tile in the kitchen, so I hurry to step in before Daisy and Butch come barreling out. Daisy wags her tail furiously, and Butch yaps in the most annoying way.
Without thought, I squat to receive their attention, scratching them both behind their ears for a few moments.
“What are you doing here?” she asks curiously.
I stand straight while she shuts the door. The dogs are still running around our feet, but I ignore them now that I’ve said my hellos. “Well, you s
ee… after lunch today, I was kind of waiting for you to suggest we do something tonight, but you never did.”
That doesn’t get a reaction from her other than a slightly tilted head to indicate she’s waiting for more.
So I give it to her. “I then thought maybe you’d call or text later to make some plans, but you didn’t do that either.”
That gets a raised eyebrow and a crossing of her arms across her chest. She’s going into battle mode, and it causes a jolt of anticipation to shoot through me. I’m wondering if we’ll have our first fight tonight and then have wild, angry make up sex, because that would be totally fine with me.
“Do you really need me to point out that you didn’t ask to see me tonight after lunch, nor did you call or text me after?” she asks blandly, but I hear it layered within her voice. She’s slightly amused.
“I wasn’t the one who freaked out about Midge,” I explain. “I decided to leave the ball in your court, but you didn’t charge down court. Instead, you sat on the bench, so I’m the one who has to take charge.”
Her forehead furrows, and she gives a slight shake of her head. “I have no clue what you meant with that analogy because I know nothing about basketball, but—”
Fuck, that’s adorable. I can’t help myself. With one long step, I’m in her face.
Then on her face.
With my mouth.
She doesn’t pull away from my kiss, and I can even feel her mouth curling upward at the edges as she smiles through my onslaught.
When I pull back, I also admit, “And I thought maybe as a European, you’d be a little more forward, but you’re apparently kind of old fashioned, clearly wanting the guy to make the next date plans.”
“Is that what you call this?” she asks, her voice so dry it obliterates any hint of her faded accent. “Dating?”
“Aren’t we dating?” I turn it back on her, dropping my hands from her face to her shoulders. “We go out, we talk, and we sleep together.”
“Otherwise known as friends with benefits,” she points out.
“Fine, call it what you want,” I capitulate, knowing we really don’t need a label for what this is. “But I’m staying tonight. And in the future, I’ll be more proactive in making plans with you.”
The Pecker Briefs Page 11
