“This isn’t a dick-measuring contest, Kent. This is about being smart. Fuck our history, forget your hatred for me for one humbling, intelligent moment. You need to get out. Before they take you out.”

Kent snorted, and then there was pure silence for one long, sobering moment. When he finally spoke, there was an equal level of sadness and disgust in his tone. “I don’t know if that’s even possible.”

Brad didn’t know if Kent was referring to his ability to forget their history, or his ability to quit his current clients. It was a moot distinction, because he was right on both counts. It probably wasn’t possible.

* * *

THE SECOND SHOE off, I crouched in my bare feet on the soft carpeting, my head tilted toward the door. My blistered ankles forgotten, I tried to understand what Broward was so angry about. This man speaking, the cold, scornful tone, wasn’t the Broward that I knew. And he had mentioned the Magianos as though he was working with them—or for them. I realized it had been a while since Broward had spoken, and I rose, suddenly panicked, and moved silently down to my office, settling in behind my desk and placing my heels on the floor. Then I leaned back in my chair, looking up at the ceiling and thinking.

The Magianos. It could be a different family. It was probably a common enough name, but in this town, that name translated to one thing: sleeping with the fishes. Broward, with his fastidious flossing, his perfect 2.5-kid family, was as far from a mob attorney as I could ever imagine. Must be a different client, or I had misheard the conversation. I pushed aside my fears and sat up, unlocking my computer and diving back into work.

* * *

SINCE IT WAS the last week of interning, the eight of us decided to grab lunch together on Tuesday. Broward had left at ten that morning, stopping briefly in my office on the way out. His face had been hard, no reason offered for his departure, and I had nodded meekly and returned to my work, waiting for the sound of the wing doors to close. Then I had stood, trotting down the hall to his secretary Sheila’s desk.

“Mr. Broward just left, but he didn’t say how long he’d be gone. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

She turned, her face scrunched, an expression that amplified all of her wrinkles. “Julia. I don’t know where he headed. He had me clear all of his afternoon appointments. Why? Do you have a question regarding one of the files?”

I blushed. “No, just wondering if I could join the other interns for lunch. We were going to run up to the Chinese restaurant up the block.”

She smiled. “I don’t think he’s coming back until this afternoon. You go on and have a good time.”

I shot her a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and, Julia?”

Something in her tone made my stomach clench. “Yes?” I asked casually.

“I want to apologize. I was a little cold to you when you started, but you have been an excellent addition to our team. I was wrong to judge you, and I’m very excited about you staying on.” She smiled brightly at me and I somehow managed to nod in response.

“Thank you, Sheila. I appreciate the opportunity.” I fled her office before she had a chance to say anything else, moving quickly to my desk and sinking into my chair. Getting accolades for not living up to her expectations felt a little sour when I had gone exactly where she had hoped I wouldn’t. Flat on my back, underneath Brad De Luca’s gorgeous, sinful body.

* * *

LATE THAT AFTERNOON, I worked in my office, typing up corporate documents at a furious rate. I wanted to leave relatively early, if at all possible. The girls and I were going out for drinks at nine, and in the interest of keeping their friendship, I really wanted to be on time. Finally, I reached a stopping point and stood.

Broward had returned around three, walking straight to his office and closing the door. After a lunch out, I didn’t really have grounds to ask for an early night. But there was a chance he wasn’t aware of my lunch. I shifted on the soft carpet, trying to get up the courage to go into his office.

“Julia!”

That ended my internal debate. I stepped quickly out into the hall and into his doorway.

“Yes, sir?”

“Will you tell Sheila to dismiss the staff at seven?”

“Today?” A stupid question, but this was so far out of normal behavior that I was confused. Talk about good luck.

“Yes, Julia. Tonight.” He gave me a pointed look, his face irritable, and I hesitated before speaking.

“Just the support staff, or the paralegals also?”

He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Everyone. The whole wing. She’ll know what to do.”

“Certainly. Is there anything you need me to take care of before then?” I shifted my weight, knowing that I should get the hell out of there before he changed his mind.

“Your normal duties. Just tell Sheila.” Irritability was definitely in his voice now. Great.

“Yes, sir.”

He grunted in response, and I fled his office, doing a little dance when I reached the privacy of my own. I reached for the phone and dialed Sheila’s extension.

* * *

AT 8:05 P.M. I leaned against the linoleum counter in my kitchen and rolled my eyes at my roommate. “I don’t give a damn if she was a bad lay—you don’t abandon a chick and then expect Zach and me to babysit her all day.”

“I would’ve given a bad lay a ride, Jules. This girl was crazy! She was talking wedding plans!” He pounded his fist on the counter to emphasize his point, and a spoon bounced off the counter and landed on the dirty floor just as my phone began to ring.

Through a mouthful of chips, I answered on the fourth ring.

“Yes?” I said playfully.

“Nice to talk to you, too,” Brad’s smooth, sexy drawl sounded through the phone.

I grinned, the motion carrying through my tone. “Don’t give me that. I’m in the middle of something very important.”

He chuckled. “Likely. Are you at the office?”

“No. Broward let me off at seven! Can you believe it!”

“So, are you coming over tonight?” His voice had taken on a suggestive lilt, and I smiled into the receiver.

“Yes, but I plan on getting sloshed with the girls first. I’ll leave my car at the restaurant and either take a cab or beg my boyfriend to come pick me up.” I winked at Alex and grabbed another handful of chips, chomping noisily on them.

“Good. He can join me in defiling you later on.” The sex in his voice was delicious, and I couldn’t fight the shiver that shot through me.

“Oh, I don’t think you want to mess with him. He’s a big, scary guy, ripped with muscles, that type of thing—he can be quite intimidating,” I teased.

“Well, call your manly boyfriend when you are done at the bar. I don’t want you catching a cab.”

“Fine, but be ready!” I playfully snapped, and hung up the phone. I looked up at Alex.

“That your sexy man?”

“The one and only,” I said, grabbing a final handful of chips and checking my watch. “I have to get ready. We’ll take up this conversation later,” I promised, giving him a quick hug and skipping down the threadbare carpet to my room.

Seventeen

“So, give me the scoop on Brad.” Olivia gripped a cold bottle in her hand and smiled at me over the dark rim. Olivia was my closest friend, though I’d never admit it to Becca, who sat to my right.

I blushed and picked at the label on my own beer, a Michelob Ultra. “Nothing much to tell,” I said, evading her direct gaze.

“Come on!” Becca said, tossing her perfectly cut and dyed hair over her shoulder. “We just listened to a fifteen-minute snooze fest on O’s history class, for God’s sake. Give me something good. Are you guys official yet?”

“Yes. As of last week, yes.” I set down my beer and looked into their expectant faces.

Becca squealed and clapped her hands; Olivia’s response was, as expected, less enthusiastic. “Are you sure about this, Jules?”

I met her eyes squarely, loving the fire behind them. “Yes, I am. Why are you so against it?”

“Yeah, O, Brad is, like, awesome!” Becca chimed in, though I didn’t know that Becca’s endorsement was going to help my case with Olivia. If there was a disaster on two legs anywhere in a five-mile radius, Becca would be going after him and frothing at the mouth.

Olivia sighed, setting down her beer and squaring off for confrontation. “First, you don’t know much about him. You met him two months ago. Second, you were warned by at least five people to stay away from him, that he was a philandering sex addict. Has anyone who knows the man suggested he has any redeeming qualities?”

I blinked, unsure of how to respond. The girl made some good points. There was a reason she, along with Becca and I, would be headed to law school after graduation. I hadn’t been completely honest with the girls about Brad, for more reasons than one. But I wasn’t sure if giving full disclosure would help or hurt their opinion of him.

“Olivia,” I began, trying to formulate a reasonable response. “While I work at CDB, I have to keep our relationship a secret. So I haven’t met many people who would vouch for his redeeming qualities. But you’ve known me three years. Do you think I have poor judgment in people? I’m not blindly throwing myself into this relationship with stars in my eyes and blinders on. I’m approaching this hesitantly, and seeing how it goes.” I shrugged. “If it doesn’t work out, I haven’t lost anything but a few weeks of my summer.”