Page 27 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

It feels like a rare glimpse of his unfiltered side, making me wonder what else is hidden behind his normal guise.

I’m painfully aware of how close we’re sitting, my nerves buzzing under my skin. Our intense chemistry crackles with an almost palpable energy. Even though it’s just dinner, I sense a shift between us. Every time he does something thoughtful, another one of my defenses crumbles, leaving me to wonder how long I can hold out until my guard is down completely.

I’m on a call with the opposing counsel for one of my cases the next morning. New information has come to light, making it necessary for us to discuss it privately before he shares the details with his client. However, so far, he hasn’t grasped the severity of the situation.

“No, Donald, it’s a shitty offer.” I stare into the camera. “Let me be clear: if we’re going to settle, you’ll have to do much better than that. I know all about your client’s extracurricular activities, and I’ve got the proof to back it up.”

His face drains of color. “What the hell are you talking about? What evidence?”

“Did you actually believe my team wouldn’t uncover your affair with your client? Seriously, Donald, how could you be that naive?” I pause to give my words a second to sink in. “I’m curious what your wife will say when she finds out. According to the infidelity clause in your prenup, Vickie stands to gain three vacation homes in both Florida and Bali if you’re caught cheating. Should I give her a call?” I lift my cell phone, the screen showing Vickie’s number ready to dial.

“How the hell did you get a hold of my prenup?” Donald asks, visibly shaken.

I click my tongue in mock disappointment. “I’d expect someone of your caliber to recognize that information is power.”

My team leaves no stone unturned when investigating opposing counsel and their clients. Even the smallest piece of information can tip the scales of a case. I rarely have to go to trial because our detailed groundwork typically leads to favorable settlements for my clients. But I make sure to be prepared for anything.

“Put your damn phone away,” Donald demands through gritted teeth.

“What’s in it for me and my client?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

It’s best to take advantage when he’s shell-shocked and unable to come up with a counter strategy.

“What do you want?” His voice trembles slightly.

I lean forward, my face devoid of emotion. “For starters, Viking International will sign over exclusive distribution rights to Jameson for the patented process. Plus, compensate him twenty million for their breach of contract.”

“You can’t be serious,” Donald scoffs. “Exclusive rights were never on the table.”

A sardonic grin plays on my face. “They are now,” I state. “Unless you want Vickie and the media to find out that you’ve been fucking your biggest client for the last year. The choice is up to you.”

“You’re a real bastard; you know that, right?”

My finger hovers above the call button. “Do we have a deal or not?” Donald’s eyes flare with indignation as he sweeps a pile of papers from his desk.

“If you’re done with your tantrum, I have another call to make.” I may be ruthless in negotiations, but I have no tolerance for those who play the system for selfish gain, especially at the expense of others. “What’s it going to be, Donald?” I say in a clipped tone.

I keep my eyes trained on him through the computer screen as he silently runs through every possible escape route. The deepening frown on his face shows he’s concluded that there’s no way out. He either complies or suffers the consequences.

“Well?” I push when he doesn’t respond.

He bites his lip so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. “I’ll draft the contract and send it to your office tomorrow once my client signs.”

Being schooled by a lawyer half his age because of a string of reckless decisions must be a bitter pill to swallow. But I have no sympathy for him. He’s made his bed; now he has to lie in it.

I tap my pen against my desk, narrowing my eyes. “You have until the end of the day.”

“Fine,” he growls. “But this means you won’t call Vickie, right?”

“Correct. As long as you return the contract on time,” I add, setting my phone down in good faith. “It was good doing business with you, Donald.”

I end the call, not giving him a chance to counter. I predict I’ll have the contract within the hour. He won’t risk getting close to the deadline. Not with how much is at stake.

I’m deliberating over whether to pour myself a glass of whiskey now or wait until the signed contract is in my hands when I sense someone watching me.

I glance up to find Reese standing at the doorway, her eyes clouded with disappointment. “Why did you do that?” she whispers, her eyes widening when she realizes she spoke out loud.

“Do what?” I watch her closely as she tucks her hair behind her ear.

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