It was three in the morning, and I’d already recorded fifteen sex scenes for other titles.
Desperately, I wanted to focus on my work for the firm, but anytime I picked up my notes, all I could think of was Tyler.
Him stealing the show like always, looking sexy as ever while doing it. Him insinuating that he was better than me.
For whatever reason, that still cut deep, and karma hadn’t served him an appropriate dose of karma at all.
Just as I was about to force myself to look over some interview questions—so I could one-up him before he did it to me on Monday, my phone pinged with a new email.
Subject: New Erotic Romance. Are You Available to Narrate?
I immediately opened it and accepted. Then I slipped into my soundproof room and cued up another sex scene.
My “real work” could wait another day.
Tyler
Present Day
Manhattan, New York
On Saturday morning, I awoke with a headache and my neighbor’s breathy, “Yes Daddyyyy!” running through my brain.
I assumed it was kink-play; my mind refused to believe it was anything else.
Since my neighbor was bound to be quite the nympho during my short-term stay here, I decided that I should play nice. I planned to send her a plant or some flowers and kindly ask her to keep things down at night so that I could work.
Getting out of the bed, I walked over to my dining room and pulled out Chassie’s assigned case.
Her not working on something as easy as this didn’t make any sense.
From what I remembered in college, a case of a person being wronged by a big corporation was what kept her up at all hours of the night.
She’d even outwork me when we came across mock cases like this.
Confused, I worked in silence for five hours—filling in easy things she’d missed, writing notes in places where they should be.
As I was brewing a fresh pot of coffee, my next-door neighbor slammed a door shut and said, “What are you doing here, Andrew?”
She paused for a few moments, and then she began moaning at the top of her lungs all over again.
I gave up on getting any work done.
I just gritted my teeth in between failed nap attempts as she fucked ten other men over the weekend …
Chassie
Present Day
Manhattan, New York
“Guess who was nominated for an Audie Award this morning?” I tugged at Sebastian’s sleeve as we stood in line at the firm’s coffee bar.
“Is it the woman who still hasn’t done any of her second chair duties on her current case?”
“Nope.” I smiled, holding my phone in front of his face. “Never heard of her, but Chassie Claire is killing it.”
“Congratulations,” he said. “I can buy a special cake for you to celebrate this momentous achievement, if you like.”
“What’s the achievement?” A deep voice said from behind.
We both turned around.
Tyler had taken a spot in line behind us, and even though he was still handsome as ever in a dark grey suit, he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“Long weekend for you, Mr. Hudson?” Sebastian asked.
“Something like that.”
“Should I take that to mean that you followed through with my recommendation to hit up Club Seven?”
“No,” he said. “I’m having issues with my place at night. What’s the achievement, Kelsie?”
“Chassie,” I corrected him. “And it’s none of your business. I don’t discuss my personal life with coworkers.”
“You don’t discuss work with them either.” He smiled. “I can see why Mr. Walsh brought me in to take over on your behalf.”
I bit my tongue.
Don’t let him get to you. Don’t let him get to you.
“I’ve scheduled interviews with witnesses over the next few days.” He kept talking. “Technically, that’s the second chair’s job, but I went ahead and did that. I also started new notes, since I’m not sure if you’re telling the truth about ever completing any. The client is what matters most, you know.”
“I placed my folder with all my notes in the joint conference when I arrived three hours ago.” I refused to let him one-up me. “You’ll find recorded interviews with every witness, detailed timelines and date stamps with all submitted photos, and plenty of evidence as to why my client—not ours, will eventually walk away with a ten million dollar settlement in the end.”
“In that case, it sounds like we should just have a coffee together and talk about something else.”
“I’ll pass,” I said. “And If I were you, I wouldn’t get too comfortable in this city.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because, surely you can see that Mr. Walsh hasn’t been in his right mind lately. It’ll only take him a matter of weeks to see that my definition of dedication has never needed an unnecessary sidekick, and then he’ll pay you to leave.”
“Is that what you’d really want?”
“Yes.”
“Say it, then.”
“I want you to—” I couldn’t focus when he looked at me like this, when he stared into my eyes and called my bluff.