Page 13 of The Enforcer

“Well,” I scramble around to figure out what I want to say, “I just don’t think it’s a good fit for this firm. We have a reputation as a top law firm on this side of Tennessee. We don’t need to change anything that drastic.”

Mr. Clinton nods. “What do you think about applying as a senior partner for this firm? We could use someone with your tenacity.”

Well, fuck. This is far from what I expected to happen when I came to this office. I thought for sure I’d be getting my ass chewed for not agreeing with what he said and possibly embarrassing him in front of the entire firm.

When I started working here, I knew it wouldn’t be easy to climb my way to the top. I’ve been here almost ten years and thought it would take at least five more to put my name forward for senior partner. To be looked at this early for this position is more than I expected.

“Umm …” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “Yeah. Yes,” I amend. “Yes, sir, I’d like that.”

He nods, standing up and holding his hand out to me. “I’ll put your name before the other partners. We all have our candidates, but I feel most strongly about you. I’m sure the others will agree.”

Still in disbelief and a bit dazed, I shake his hand in return. “Thanks, Mr. Clinton.”

I walk back to my office in a trance. Which is a feat in itself since my head is still throbbing like a bitch.

Opening my office door, I’m greeted by the fantastic image of Zeke lying on my couch, pillow tucked under his head, arms crossed over his chest and his feet on my coffee table. He smirks and uncrosses his arms, beckoning to me like a child. “Counselor. I thought you’d never show up.”

My cheeks flame as I think about what a fool I made of myself last night. I was hoping to avoid seeing Zeke today so I could get my thoughts together. I should have known he’d show up. This man does not like to wait for things. I’ve learned that over the years.

I drag my feet as I walk over to the couch, sitting on the coffee table instead of taking a seat next to him.

He pouts when I don’t sit in the space he made for me, but that’s too bad. I still don’t know what to say to him. He was never supposed to know what I felt for him. It was supposed to be my dirty little secret. I never wanted him to feel like he had to reciprocate or lie about his feelings since we’re friends. Though, Zeke would never lie, not even to spare my feelings. So maybe it’s more I didn’t want my feelings hurt when he rejected me.

Zeke sits up and places his knees outside mine. “What are you thinking about so hard?”

I can’t tell him I’m thinking of how I wish I had kept my fucking mouth shut last night, since that’ll start the conversation of what I said when I was practically pasted to his lap. I would hate to feel even worse for the rest of the day, since I don’t get off for another nine or so hours.

Pasting on a fake smile, I tell him, “I was just asked how I felt about becoming a senior partner here. Almost five years ahead of my goal. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

A wide smile spreads over Zeke’s face and he pulls me in for a rough, tight hug that scrambles my brain and makes lights pop behind my lids. “That’s great, Counselor. Let me take you out for drinks to celebrate.”

Just the mention of alcohol has me groaning, my headache coming back full force. I pull out of his arms and put my head in my hands. “Please no. No more drinks for at least the rest of the year.” It’s the beginning of the year, but whatever. No more drinking.

Zeke’s deep laugh washes over me and it’s almost enough to chase my pounding headache away. “No one told you to drink so much when you knew you had to work. You’re supposed to be the smart one.”

I glare at him through my fingers. “Why aren’t you hungover? You drank more than I did.”

“Unlike you,” he says, rolling his eyes as he leans back on my couch, “I’m a professional. I can drink more than that and still be functional the next day.” His smug smile makes me want to slap it from his face.

“Fucking biker,” I mutter as I stumble over to my desk and sit behind it. “Did you need something? One of the guys in trouble again?” I open my email, browsing through it, but not really seeing anything—both because of the painful glare stabbing at my retinas and my mind being clouded with Zeke being here. As long as nothing says urgent, it can keep until I go through the messages in order. Besides, I can’t look at the screen much longer without my eyes watering from the brightness.

“Nope. I came to take you to lunch so we can talk.”

My hand stills on my mouse and I pretend that something interesting has my attention on the screen. It’s too early and I’m too fucked up—both physically and mentally—to deal with talking right now.

Zeke gives no fucks. He throws a balled-up piece of paper at me that hits me squarely in the forehead. I look over at him with a frown that he also gives no fucks about. “Come on, Shane. You know we have to talk. Let’s just get it over with.”

“Can it wait?” Forever, if possible.

He shrugs, walking over to my desk. Zeke pushes my chair back to make room for his large body and perches his ass against it. I can’t help how my eyes drop down to his well-defined abs and further to the bulge in his pants before I can stop myself. When I meet his eyes, instead of the laughter or the cocky smile I’m expecting, I’m met with an almost searching look. I don’t know what it means.

“It can. Want to come by my place tonight?”

I nod gently so I don’t slosh my brain. “Later tonight. I’m going to head home and take some meds and crash. I can’t see straight.”

“Want me to take you home?” Before I can tell him fuck no, I won’t get on the back of his death machine, Zeke holds up a hand. “I can drive your car to take you home and have Reaper pick me up. Or Pete. Or Jace. Literally anyone. But you don’t look so hot. I’d rather you not drive off the side of a road before you can confess your undying love for me.” He fucking winks at me like he’s so clever.

I groan. “God, you’re a terrible friend.”

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