“No, she seemed to be. I mean, she said she was, during.” I paused, remembering my confusion afterward. “I thought we had fun, and that’s all it was. In the morning, she pulled a one-eighty. It had been a tactic on her part, and she was really fucking pissed when I explained we weren’t on the same page.”
The memory of Sharon’s words echoed in my mind. “I endured your stupid fetish for nothing?” she’d yelled at me.
Fetish?
All I’d done was spank her a few times and used some dirty phrases. That night wouldn’t have even earned the #hardcore tag had it been a porn video.
“When Sharon didn’t get the commitment she wanted, she lost it. She said what I’d done to her made it too difficult to continue working together.”
“Oh, shit.” Julius sobered. “You worked together?”
“Yeah. She was a senior partner at the law firm I worked at. Basically, she was my boss.” I picked at the label on my beer. “I knew it was stupid to get involved, but I did it anyway.” It was painful to admit. “I fucked up, big time.”
For a long moment, he was quiet, as if contemplating.
“It happens,” he offered, his voice sincere.
“Sharon blacklisted me as revenge. Finding another job at a decent firm was impossible.” I left out the part where I’d been forced to retaliate, and rather than have her reputation sullied, Sharon paid me to leave New York quietly.
I had slinked back to my parents’ firm and tried to be grateful for the job, but it was a struggle.
What wasn’t a struggle, was hanging out with Julius. Conversation rarely lapsed, and when it did, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. We grimaced together as the Bears fell further behind in the score, and took turns groaning about the officiating.
“Gotta ask,” I said, late in the fourth quarter, “what are you going to
do about Courtney if and when she’s a free woman?”
“Nothing,” he said, resigned.
“Because of Tariq?”
“Nah. Tariq’s not good enough for her,” his expression was serious, “but I ain’t either.”
Tuesday felt like a Monday, and I had to get a second cup of coffee to get me going. I was walking back from the coffee maker when I glanced at the conference room at the center of the office suite.
It was all glass. A strategic design, in case the firm ever became outnumbered during a discovery or deposition and needed to call for reinforcements. My father sat across the large table, his arms crossed on the tabletop, and leaned forward to listen to the woman sitting on the side opposite him. I couldn’t see much of her other than her blonde hair that was cropped short.
Usually he met clients one-on-one in his office which was designed to impress and intimidate. I took a detour through the front lobby.
“Why’s my dad meeting in the conference room?” I asked the administrative assistant who manned the desk.
“He has a client in his office, so he had me put Ms. Crawford in the conference room,” she said. “She actually asked for you, but your father said you were full and he’d handle it.”
“Courtney Crawford?”
The assistant nodded.
“The fuck he will,” I muttered under my breath.
I moved as fast as my full cup of coffee would allow and pulled open the door, catching my father’s attention. He scowled, but I jerked my hand to the hallway, giving him the signal, “We need to talk out here.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, rising to his feet. “Please excuse me for a moment, Ms. Crawford.”
She turned her head, giving me a view of her profile, and if I wasn’t so fucking pissed at him, I might have grinned. Oh, she was cute. The image of Julius pining after this petite little white girl was so sweet my teeth almost hurt.
Dad waited until the door closed before speaking. “What is it?”
“That’s my client you’re meeting with.”