Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 106147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106147 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry, Donovan,” she eventually said. “But I think we need some distance between us at this point.”
I had to clear my throat and sit up. “Fine. Do you want me to have Storm’s case transferred to someone else?”
“No. He trusts you, and that’s not something that happens too often. Plus, you got him a deal, so I’m guessing things are almost wrapped up.”
“Yeah. He’ll need to appear before the judge to accept the terms, but that should take ten minutes.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“Well, I guess there’s nothing left to say. I’ll have my assistant call you when I get the date of the appearance, so you don’t have to talk to me more than necessary.”
Autumn’s voice sounded as sad as I felt. “Okay.”
I wanted to be nice, but I was frustrated, and the alcohol sure as hell didn’t help. “Enjoy your emotionless life, Red.”
***
The following Friday was our work happy hour. I hadn’t had any contact with Autumn, not that I’d expected to after our last conversation. But still, the week had sucked. I lost an important summary judgment argument, wasted a full day drawing up motions to stop the bank from seizing more of Mr. Bentley’s assets—which they were going to no matter what, but the client had demanded I try—and today I had to fill in for a partner whose wife had lost her mother and second-chair a case for Dickson, of all people.
I wasn’t sure what was worse, spending the entire day sitting next to him or the fact that he did a damn good job in oral arguments. At least Autumn never came up. Thank God. All I wanted to do was go home and commiserate to my plants, but Trent and Juliette weren’t having it. They’d practically dragged me to happy hour. And now, as I sipped on a beer I didn’t want, I realized why Juliette had been so gung ho about me coming tonight.
“Donovan, this is my friend Margo.” Juliette smiled. “I mentioned her to you. She’s the yoga instructor.”
I gave a curt nod. “How you doing, Margo?”
She looked me up and down, not even attempting to hide her interest. “My day just got better.”
Shit. The woman was beautiful. Petite with big eyes, full lips, and a tiny waist, but a hell of a lot of tits and ass—exactly the type I’d normally be attracted to, but I had no interest. Juliette, thinking she’d done me a solid, grinned at me and wiggled her fingers. “Tootle-oo. I’ll leave you guys to get to know each other better.”
Great.
Margo tossed her purse onto the bar next to me and raised her hand to get the bartender’s attention. “Can I buy you a drink?” she asked.
I wasn’t interested, but I also wasn’t an asshole. “No, thanks.” When Freddie, the regular bartender, walked over, Margo ordered a baybreeze. I lifted my chin to him. “Put that on my tab, will you, Freddie?”
“Sure, boss.” He knocked his knuckles against the bar. “You got it.”
“Thank you,” Margo said. She turned to face me. “So Juliette tells me you’re single?”
“I am.”
“And why is that?”
I lifted a brow. “Why am I single?”
She nodded.
“I didn’t realize I needed a reason to be single.”
Margo smiled. “You’re an attorney—a killer one from what Juliette told me. You’re obviously handsome. Don’t think that’s news to you since there’s a mirror right over there. And my friend says you’re a genuinely good guy. Men like that aren’t single for long.”
I smirked and rubbed my lip. “Juliette said I’m a killer lawyer and a good guy, huh?”
Margo shrugged. “She did. But don’t let it go to your head. She also said you could be a giant dick sometimes.”
I laughed. “Alright. Now that sounds more like the Juliette I know. I was beginning to worry maybe she was dying or something, saying all those nice things about me.”
Margo smiled and tilted her head. “So what’s your deal? Recent breakup? Manwhore? Commitment phobe?” She squinted at me. “I don’t take you for a momma’s boy.”
“Definitely not a momma’s boy. But I also haven’t had a recent breakup. I’m not afraid of commitment, and if I’m a manwhore, I’m not very good at it considering it’s been about four or five months since I had sex.”
Margo sighed and bowed her head dramatically. “Then you’re the worst kind of single man.”
She was amusing, and I was curious, so I bit. “What’s the worst kind of single guy?”
She held her hand over her heart and shook her head. “You have it bad for a woman who isn’t interested.”
My smile fell.
Margo noticed and rubbed my arm. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring your head down.”
I forced a smile. “It’s fine. You didn’t.”
Freddie walked over and slid Margo’s drink across the bar. “One baybreeze for the pretty lady.”
“Thanks, Freddie.” I nodded.
Margo sipped her drink while studying my face, then set her cocktail on the bar and rubbed her hands together. “Okay, lay it on me.”