Page 145 of Filthy Lovin Heroes

I rolled my eyes. Sleeping with a client was never a good idea in my line of work. Not unless you were actually looking to ruin your law firm’s reputation. I wasn’t. No matter the cup size or dollar amount backing up their checkbooks. It took ten long grueling years to build this place up from the ground. Not the high-rise we currently rent, but Morre and Sloan. We handled most of the high-end corporate contracts for billion-dollar companies and Hollywood studios. Our name was among giants and there was not a damn thing I’ll do to tarnish what we’ve built.

I swung my door open and walked across the foyer and approached Trish's desk. She was parked outside her employer’s office door like a gatekeeper and believe me, she played an excellent linebacker when needed.

Trish had three slips of paper in hand waiting and ready when I came to a stop beside her desk. “You have a couple interviews for this afternoon.”

“You’re a goddess among mortals, Trish. Are you sure you don’t want to come over to my side? I pay better.”

Something about my expression must have screamed desperate because Trish chuckled and added, “I took the liberty of putting out a few silent feelers with some friends since you go through assistants like starlets do boy toys in this town?—”

I cut her off. “Trish, you’re a sweetheart to think of me, but I don’t have time to interview people.” I braced my hands on the ends of her desk and turned up the thousand-watt smile that normally had ladies of all ages swooning. “What will it take to pull you away from Morre? C’mon, I’ll double your salary. Put your grandkids through college. Give you a fully paid trip to Vegas. You name it! What do you say?”

Trish, a woman who had gracefully aged in ways most women hoped for when they met their mid-sixties, pushed her gold-rimmed glasses up her nose and shot me a smile that said not a chance but with a cherry on top.

“Please,” I begged just as my partner stepped out of her office.

“At it again. Figures. Step back from Trish—she’s mine, Sloan.”

Morre, a woman my age with a bigger no-nonsense attitude about her than even me, pursed her lips in my direction and swooshed a stack of files in the air. “Back, beast. How many times are you going to fire your hired help anyway?”

“I didn’t fire, they left.”

“And that’s any better?”

“Not really, just stating facts.”

I frowned and sighed heavily. “Until I can find someone who can do their job without all the hand holding.”

Morre’s eyes lit up. “Problem is you. You’ve been a bear lately. All work and no play… you know what they say.”

For what felt like from the moment the ink dried on my diploma, work was the only thing that sat at the top of my priority list. A short list at that with only one item that made the cut.

Casual flings happened when I got the urge to have a woman’s soft, warm body wrapped around me, but the last time that happened was nothing more than a foggy memory.

The woman I couldn't get out of my mind made me want to change that. The more I thought about it, my whole life seemed meaningless.

How the fuck was that possible?

“Yeah, yeah.” I was not going to pick that topic up and then sit here for the next three hours with them grilling me for details. I might be a wolf in the courtroom but these two were barracudas twenty-four seven. I was notoriously known for my bachelorhood. One sniff of the possibility the great Sloan had met his match and they would sink their teeth into me.

“It’s true,” Trish added, naturally agreeing with her boss.

Change of topic needed. I turned back to Trish, “I have an idea. Think you can find me a nice, reliable girl I already know? A judge’s daughter who needs summer work or something? Given the boss agrees with your use of time.” I turned my smile on Morre.

Morre style, she did nothing more than smirk and before turning back to her office added, “Help him so he’ll stop begging, Trish, or you might never get rid of him.”

“Way ahead of you both. I landed someone you all might know and like. And if that is the case, you can discard the others on those notes I just handed you.”

“Bless you!” The wicked glint in Trish’s eyes told me I might be prematurely thanking her.

“Who are we looking at?”

“Nah. This will be too good. You’ll just have to wait and see. That’s my fee for lining this up for you.”

“Evil. Pure evil.” I groaned, making my way back to my office.

Back behind my desk files threatened to murder me if I so much as bumped the edge of my desk.

Three assistants in fifteen days. My phone calls were piling up and I couldn’t find a fucking file to save my life. I dared flip through a few files, causing others to scatter to the floor. Screw it. Glancing at the clock, I smeared them around like a pile of dominoes, desperate to find the Robin and Matthews case file I swore I left on the top of the pile.

---