Page 24 of Worth the Risk

“Miguel. Right.” He pushes off from my desk. “How’d that go? Do you feel like he’s a good fit?”

“Great.” I tell him about Miguel’s experience with his firm and why he’s looking to leave. “I’d want him to start tomorrow if he could, but I know he wants to give his firm ample time so it will probably be at least a month before he’s onboarded. And no, it’s not just because I feel awful for him, considering everything he’s been through in the last year. He’s an incredibly talented lawyer.”

Austin nods. “Good. You seem like you get along with him well so that will be beneficial in regard to your professional relationship, I’m sure.”

My brows knit together, his tone instantly irking me. “Yeah, it will be beneficial,” I respond, telling myself to let it go, but of course I don’t. “What do you mean our professional relationship? What other kind of relationship would we have?”

“Friendly,” he responds without hesitation, “since his brother is engaged to your best friend. I figure that will probably extend outside of the office.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, we’ve never hung out together outside of work before so I guess I hadn’t considered that.” I feel guilty at the thought he was insinuating something else.

“Never?”

“I guess not never. I met him once or twice before at a?—”

“Were you with him last night?”

His question takes me by surprise, my mouth hanging open for an extra second.

“I was yes—the interview went long so we went to dinner to continue talking about things. How’d you know that?” His eyes shift away from mine, and I suddenly remember Hank telling me someone stopped by. “Oh yeah, you came by last night?”

He doesn’t look at me. “It was nothing important.”

Neither of us say anything for several seconds but he doesn’t leave. He pushes one of my legal awards that sits atop a table a few centimeters to the left, eyeing it to make sure it’s even with the others, the tension in the air failing to dissipate.

“Is it a problem that I had dinner with Miguel to continue the interview?”

“Depends. Was it a dinner?” He stops fidgeting with items on my shelf and turns back toward me. “Or was it adinner?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Don’t play coy, Taylor; we both know what I’m asking.”

“No, we don’t,” I huff. “What are you asking? If I slept with him?”

“No.” I see a flash of anger in his eyes like he’s appalled at even the suggestion. “I was asking if there’s something more between the two of you.”

“Why? Because if there is, I can’t hire him?”

“Is there?” His question hangs heavy between us. I can’t read the expression on his face. Anger? Resentment? Jealousy flashes across my brain but I push it aside.

“How’d your second date with Mia go?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

My heart thuds in my chest.

Nothing. It has nothing to do with this conversation; it’s born purely out of jealousy that I’m clearly projecting right now.

“Nothing. I’m not dating Miguel nor will I. We both know that would not only be unethical, but it would clearly violate any sort of professional boundaries.” He stares back at me as ifhe’s contemplating my response, his heavy-lidded stare making me nervous. My voice drops an octave as I say, “I wouldn’t date anyone I work with. You know that.”

We both know what I’m referring to. The night we met. The night our lips hovered so close. The night I felt his hard body pressed against me.

His movements toward me are slow, his hand extending as he reaches my desk. I’m holding my breath, half expecting him to reach down and pull me to my feet and into his arms, but he doesn’t. Instead, he grabs my phone and turns to sit on the love seat in my office.

“Excuse me?”

“Just checking my social media celebrity,” he mutters as he taps my screen.

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