“Thank you,” I say. “I’ll be there in ten.”
When she leaves, I stare at the door, remembering how Savannah barged into my office two days ago. I remember her blond curls bouncing as she stormed to my desk, the heat in her eyes, the curve of her body, and the tailored blouse that strained against her chest just ever so slightly.
The lust that shot through my body as I watched her and how it quickly died down when she accused me of conspiring with her fiancé.
A firecracker. No woman has gotten under my skin like that in a long time. It angered me at the moment, amused me when I thought about it later and then unnerved me.
Thankfully, I won’t be in a room alone with her any time soon. Having an audience forces me to behave like everyone thinks I am—poised, confident, and totally in control.
Maybe a bit of arrogance. But they know that my arrogance is because I’m good at what I do, becoming the youngest senior partner in the firm, not bad.
I grab my jacket and head toward the conference room.
***
The second I enter the room, my eyes go directly to Savannah. Her eyes are fixed on a folder that is opened on the table, giving me enough time to take her in.
Her hair is in a slick bun today, unlike the curls the last time we met, and she has a brown blazer on that compliments the color of her eyes, something I remember because of how bright they flashed with rage.
She has a sheer silk light brown blouse under it that gives away the black bra she has underneath, and the buttons that are undone would not have taken my attention, but with her head bent, it provides a generous view of her cleavage.
Get yourself together, Michael. She’s your employee.
I shake my head and clear my throat.
“Hello.”
“Oh, Mr. Stone,” Julius, an attorney at the firm, says as he gets up. Somehow, I did not notice him until now.
Did he see me staring at Savannah? I hope not.
“Julius,” I say with a slight nod.
“Mr. Stone,” Savannah says, her eyes meeting mine.
It takes only a split second for me to see the fire in her eyes. Ah, I nod. She must have stormed out of my office, not to reflect on the fact that she barged in and mistook me for someone else, but to build up a case against me.
I don’t know my offense yet, but I’m sure that in Savannah’s eyes, it’s grievous enough. For some reason, I want to pull out the chair next to her and sit down. I want to confront her and find out what is going on in her head.
Instead, I take the chair at the head of the table and sit down.
“So, Julius, give me a rundown of the case we’re working on.”
“Riverview,” he says. “It’s a small town, and they’ve filed charges against an industrial company about thirty minutes from the town. They complain that the company has built a channel that contaminates their water source.”
“Seems like a straightforward case. What’s the issue?”
“The issue is that it cannot be proven that it is the company’s waste that is responsible for their water contamination,” Savannah speaks up.
“We’ll also need to go through a lot of red tape if we’re to find out where it starts and how they are disposing of the waste. Something that their attorneys in the past have been unable to figure out. Plus, it’s a small town on the outskirts of the city. They need our help but don’t have the resources to retain our firm.”
“So, we’re taking the case pro bono?” I ask.
“Someone has decided to sponsor the case this time,” Savannah replies. “They are not as high profile as our usual clients, but this is an environmental issue and therefore would look good if we defended them.”
I see.
Her eyes narrow as she looks at me, as though daring me to turn down the case.