Page 19 of Worth the Fall

My phone buzzes less than a minute later with her response and my heart actually skips a beat.

Mia

That would be amazing actually. Those clauses have been keeping me up at night. Free this evening?

I'm typing back "Yes" embarrassingly fast when another text from her comes through.

Mia

I promise not to wreck any condiment displays this time

And just like that, I'm grinning like an idiot at my phone again.

The rest of the day crawls by in an endless parade of meetings and briefs that I can barely focus on. Every time the elevator dings, my eyes dart to my office door before I can stop myself.

"Your three o'clock canceled," Tarryn informs me midafternoon, her eyes flickering briefly to where I've straightened my tie for the fourth time in an hour. "Perhaps we should discuss moving the Morrison review to tomorrow morning? When you might be more… focused?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"Only to someone who's watched you rearrange your desk twelve times since lunch." Her expression remains professionally neutral, but I catch that glint of amusement again. "And for the record, part of my job as an assistant is to predict your next move by being so observant. Anything I can do to help? Another cup of chamomile?"

I tug at my collar, which does feel unusually tight. "Thanks, Tarryn, but I’ll be okay. And thanks again—for being so on top of things. Just a lot on my mind today."

By six, I've convinced myself this was a terrible idea. I'm setting myself up to be her ex's new lawyer, technically. There have to be ethical considerations. Professional boundaries. Something that makes this a bad?—

"Hi."

I look up and there she is, leaning against my doorframe in a pencil skirt and cream blouse that makes my mouth go dry.Her hair's coming loose from its clip, strawberry-blond strands framing her face in a way that makes me want to reach out and?—

"Earth to Miguel?" She grins, waving a hand. "You okay there?"

"Hi," I blurt out. "I’m fine!" I stand too quickly, nearly knocking over my chair. "Just… focused. On contracts. Legal things."

"Legal things," she repeats slowly, fighting a smile. "Very professional."

"Would you like to…" I gesture vaguely at the chairs in front of my desk, then reconsider. Too formal. The couch by the window? Too intimate. Why didn't I think this through better?

She solves my dilemma by perching on the edge of my desk instead, close enough that I catch a hint of her perfume. Something light and floral that makes it hard to remember why this was supposed to be about contracts.

"So." She pulls out her iPad, but I notice her hands aren't quite steady. "About those concerning clauses…"

I try to focus on the contract displayed on her iPad, but all I can think about is how close she's sitting, how her knee is almost brushing mine as she leans in to point out specific passages. The office feels somehow smaller, warmer.

"See here?" She taps the screen, and I force myself to concentrate on the words instead of how her hair falls forward when she tilts her head. "The language is deliberately vague about performance metrics, but when you cross-reference it with section 4.2…"

"It creates a loophole," I finish, finally engaging with the actual legal issue. "They could technically void the entire agreement based on subjective criteria."

"Exactly!" She turns toward me, eyes bright with that passionate intensity I remember from our coffee date. "Cameronalways gets excited about new projects without reading the fine print, but this could seriously impact his?—"

She stops abruptly, realizing how close we've gotten. I can see the faint dusting of freckles across her nose, count each flutter of her eyelashes. The air between us feels charged, electric.

"His… business interests," she finishes softly, not moving away.

"We should probably…" I clear my throat, trying to remember why we're supposed to be talking about contracts. "The modification clause in section five…"

"Right." She blinks, then shifts slightly. Not quite moving back, but not quite staying as close either. "Professional discussion."

"Professional," I echo, even as my eyes drift to her lips.

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