“Thank God for that,” I say.
“Excuse me?” She cocks her head and furrows her brow.
“I just mean thank God I had you as a teacher but I’m glad I’m not under you anymore. Not that I don’t want to be under you. I mean…”
She laughs. “You know, you look like a lawyer, but right now you kind of sound like you need to brush up on public speaking again,” she jokes.
Somehow, she sounds much more sweet than the way she used to bust my balls in debate.
I let go of her hand and rub my palms together, trying to find my bearings. She throws everything off.
“The thing is, you may not be my teacher anymore, but now I’m afraid we’ve got problems of a different sort,” I say regretfully.
I study her face for a reaction. Was she hoping for something more from this meet-cute? Is this actually a meet-cute or a meet-again-cute?
“I hate to tell you this, but I wanted you to hear it directly from me. The partners at my firm have assigned me to represent the Chamberlain family in their lawsuit against you.”
Martha blinks at me with such incredulity that I start to doubt the veracity of my own words.
She appears to shake the cobwebs from inside her head. “Wait…you are representing the people who are suing me? The people who are trying to run me out of Greenbridge Academy over a fucking statue?”
I take a deep breath. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”
Martha throws back her head and laughs. “Well, you can get out of it because I used to be your teacher. I’m sure that’s not allowed, right?”
“It’s not spelled out that clearly, but it’s something the partners should, probably, know about,” I say, my voice low, my eyes traveling down her shirt, across the width of her hip-hugging pencil skirt. Why? Why does she have to taunt me with the same outfit that’s been etched in my spank bank for ages? Does she not own any other clothes?
Her eyes flash. “Miles. Come on. How could you take this case?”
I have to grit my teeth and look away from her breasts, her tempting hips, her glistening lips. “I didn’t want to, Martha. I didn’t want this case even before I knew that you were the person in the crosshairs. I was this close”—I hold up my two fingers—“this close to walking into Garcia’s office to disclose that you and I knew each other from school—more than knew each other—but then I realized something.”
Looking down at her, her eyes searching me for answers, her arms crossed in front of her, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip nervously—I wonder if she ever lets her students or staff see her like this. So unsteady. Unsure. Without answers. Confused.
All of those traits she metaphorically smacked out of me back in our debate team days. Not that I would have minded a literal smack from her. I would love to walk around with a bruise in the shape of her hand on my ass. My unruly cock twitches at the thought. Oh God. Why am I torturing myself? This is never going to happen. Not while I’m representing the enemy.
“What did you realize, Miles? I can’t wait to hear this.”
I clear my throat. “I realized I’m not going to disclose anything to my boss or to my client. I’m not going to step away from this case because of our prior relationship. If I claim conflict of interest, then Garcia will assign someone else. Someone even better and more experienced than I am. And then, you will lose. If you go up against me, you might just win.”
Martha thinks about this for a minute and then bursts out laughing for the second time.
“I might just win?” Martha cackles harder when I nod my head.
“This is very serious, Martha.”
“Sure it is. But it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to engage in any of this bullshit. I’m not going to hire a lawyer, I’m simply not going to comply.”
I’m totally confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m just going to drag it all out until they drop it. And I’m going to keep doing my job as headmistress of this school, and I’m not going to give in one single inch to the holy rollers. That’s what I’m going to do. What are you going to do?” She points at me in challenge.
The truth is, my only strategy is to lose the case for her. “I just came here to tell you to hire a good lawyer. If you do, you could conceivably beat me.”
Now, I’m not so sure that my plan is all that brilliant. Should I tell her I’m going to throw the case on purpose?
Martha takes a step toward me, about to deliver a savage blow. She’s so close I can smell her. Her voice dips to a low, sultry octave and she’s got me so shook I’m painfully biting my tongue to keep from forcing it down her throat.
“That’s not the student I remember,” she says. “This is not how I taught you to be. I may not be a lawyer but I didn’t get the job of headmistress for nothing. So, if you have even one crumb of respect for me, you had better bring your A game. Son.”