Page 37 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

She glances at her watch, then back at me. “I have ten minutes until my break is over. We can use the office upstairs.” She turns to Noah and hands him her water bottle. “Let Lacy know I’ll be back soon.”

He gives her an affectionate smile. “Absolutely.”

“Thanks, I won’t be long,” she promises.

Reese looks back at me, her eyes stormy. She grabs my arm, tugging me toward the kitchen area. That’s when I spot Harrison engaged in a heated argument with a short blond woman wearing a chef’s apron. She’s standing with a hand on her hip and has a finger jabbed into his chest. This must be Fallon, and she seems far from happy to see Harrison.

I turn back to Reese when she tugs me through a side door and up another flight of stairs, ushering me inside an officeManagementembossed on the door. A large wooden desk and an office chair are situated in one corner, across from a leathercouch. The walls are decorated with a series of jazz-inspired art pieces, and there are floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the club.

As soon as Reese shuts the door, I stalk toward her.

“Are you dating Noah?” It slips out before I can stop it, not that I would have anyway. I’ve learned from experience that straightforward questions are the most effective way to get the answers I want.

Reese chews on her lower lip as she eyes me with suspicion. “That’s not something you’re allowed to ask an employee.”

I shrug. “Since we’re off the clock, I’d say it’s fair game. Now stop stalling and answer the question.”

Reese huffs in frustration. “Noah is my best friend, not that I owe you an explanation.”

“Tell me, Red, do all of your friends call you babe?”

She shakes her head. “Just Noah.”

“Are you interested in him?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not, and for the record, even if I were, you’re more his type than I am.”

A wave of relief washes over me at hearing that she’s not interested in Noah. My shoulders relax and I smirk. “Is that so?”

Reese folds her arms across her chest, glaring at me. “Yes. Now that you’ve had a chance to interrogate me, it’s my turn,” she challenges. “What areyoudoing here? Taking a break from the tattoo parlor to find a hookup for the night?” I don’t miss her biting tone.

“Now who’s jealous?” I taunt. “I came here with a client. We usually meet at a dive bar in Brooklyn, but a woman he knows is catering an event here tonight and he wanted to see her.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who does business in dive bars.”

“I don’t. I’m not representing Harrison right now.”

“So, he’s your friend?”

“No, he’s a client.” She furrows her brow like she doesn’t understand. “Care to explain why you’re waitressing on a Friday night instead of studying and getting a good night’s sleep?” I ask, changing the subject.

She scoffs. “No. I reviewed the employee handbook before accepting my position at Thompson & Tate. There’s no policy against having a second job, as long as it doesn’t overlap with my scheduled hours and isn’t with a direct competitor.”

There should be.

It bothers me that she’s been juggling two jobs and wearing herself down in the process. I have half a mind to call the HR director and have them insert a clause prohibiting outside employment immediately. But then I’d have to explain why I’m at a club with an employee on the weekend and why I’m so concerned about her having a second job. Regrettably, the handbook does include a policy against fraternization with employees. I should have HR change that too.

Hell, we should toss the whole damn thing out the window.

That’s not a thought a lawyer would usually entertain, but this woman is making me think irrationally and all I want to do is hold her in my arms again.

“Dawson, please say something,” she pleads.

“I don’t want you working here,” I say bluntly.

She appears briefly flustered but quickly recovers, putting her hands on her hips and says, “Too bad. Your control doesn’t extend past your office. You don’t get to tell me what to do when I’m not at work.”

I grunt as I walk toward her, my voice low. “And what if I want to?”

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