Page 25 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

Reese:Right? I think they add a nice touch to the space.

Grace:They are! Whoever sent them was very thoughtful.

Reese:Yes, they are.

I keep my response vague. I’m not about to tell her that Dawson bought me flowers.

Grace:I’m glad you’re not working for Rob full-time anymore. You deserve better.

Grace:But don’t let Dawson push you around either, okay?

Reese:I won’t.

Grace:I’ve got to run to a meeting, but let’s have lunch soon?

Reese:Looking forward to it.

Hopefully I can find the time. Between Rob and Dawson, my workload has significantly increased, and I have a feeling things at the firm are only going to get busier. Now if I could just focus my attention back on work, and not the lingering scent of sandalwood and leather.

My stomach growls loudly as I glance at the clock, noting it’s past nine thirty. The only thing I’ve had to eat today was a stale egg salad sandwich from the lobby vending machine that I scarfed down between projects.

Rob showed up right before lunch with fourteen boxes of documents, demanding they be filed by the end of the day. After I finished, Dawson asked me to join a conference call to take notes and help draft a contract.

I hoped to make it home at a decent time so I could squeeze in a study session for the LSAT, but I couldn’t turn down substantive work. Dawson may be insufferable, but at least he assigns tasks related to my role, unlike Rob, who only has me running errands and filing paperwork.

Aside from Dawson and me, everyone on our floor else has gone home for the night. I’m tempted to order takeout even though it’s not in my budget when the elevator doors open, and a young man heads in my direction with several large brown paper bags in tow.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“I have a delivery for Dawson Tate.” He holds up the bags in his hand. “Looks like someone’s working late tonight.”

“Yeah, it’s been a busy day,” I say.

His gaze shifts between Dawson’s office and me, his expression playful. “If you ever want a change of scenery, I know a great place down the street—the best noodles in the city.” He flashes me a grin. “It would be more fun than being stuck here all night, and it comes with good company.”

“That does sound fun,” I say with a polite smile. “But I’m usually working late, and I’m sure my boss would notice if I took an extended dinner break when we’re in the middle of an important case.”

“You’re right, I would,” Dawson interrupts as he exits his office. “If you want noodles, Reese, I’ll have them delivered.” The courier fidgets under Dawson’s intense scrutiny, his eyes darting between me and Dawson, trying to gauge the situation.

“Sorry I’m late, sir,” he manages to say. “They were short-staffed in the kitchen tonight, and I got here as fast as I could.”

Dawson’s expression remains impassive. “If you’d kept your attention on delivering my order instead of flirting with my paralegal, you might not have run behind schedule.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies, giving Dawson a wary look as he hands him the bags.

Could Dawson be jealous?

I cover my mouth with my hand to hide a smile at the silly notion. He’s likely just irritated that he didn’t get his food sooner.

The courier doesn’t wait around, hurrying toward the exit. His steps are brisk, and he consciously avoids looking back. I don’t blame him.

As the courier walks away, I notice Dawson’s clenched jaw as he stares in his direction. I place my hand on his arm to get his attention, and when he turns to look at me, his expression softens.

“Are you all right? You seem a little tense,” I say with a hint of amusement.

Dawson’s brows knit together, still scowling at the courier who’s just stepping into the elevator. “He was a little too friendly with you, don’t you think?”

I pull my hand away and prop my elbows on my desk, resting my chin against my hands. I’m rather enjoying watching Dawson get worked up over something so small.

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