Page 57 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

“Sounds good,” she says.

Once I’m in the hallway, I dial Harrison’s number. It only rings twice before he picks up.

“This is Harrison,” he answers coldly.

“I need to use my first favor,” I state.

“Right now? I’m a little busy,” Harrison grunts.

“It has to be done tomorrow,” I say, glancing through the door at Reese, who’s laughing at something Georgia said.

“Fuck, you’re serious.”

“You did tell me I could cash them in whenever I wanted,” I remind him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he mutters. “My brothers and I will take care of it.” I hear voices in the background.

“I’ll text you the details.” I hang up and shoot a quick text to the private jet charter I use.

With careful planning and Harrison’s help, tomorrow will be perfect. Now I just have to break the news to Reese that she’ll be spending the rest of the weekend with me and hope she agrees to go with me.

After bingo, we decided to have dinner with Grams before coming back to Dawson’s place. I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly they hit it off. Dawson can be charismatic when he wants to be.

Usually, I’m in low spirits after a visit with Grams, the loneliness hitting hard after leaving her, but today was different. Dawson’s company has kept the sadness at bay, and for that I’m grateful.

We step out onto the roof, where a pool is surrounded by three ivy-covered walls providing a secluded retreat and offering a stunning view of the waterfront. The patio is furnished with loungers and a table, a cushioned sofa, and two heated lamps that Dawson switches on as I take in the surroundings.

“This is amazing,” I say, awestruck.

“You want to go for a swim?” Dawson asks, nodding toward the pool. “It’s heated.”

I look wistfully at the water. “I didn’t pack a swimsuit,” I remind him.

He failed to mention the hidden oasis on his rooftop beforehand.

“You don’t need one,” he says with a wry grin.

I watch him with a hint of skepticism as he proceeds to strip out of his long-sleeve shirt and pants, tossing his clothes on thenearby patio table. His boxers hang low on his hips, and his well-defined muscles and confident stance are on full display. He’s devastatingly attractive, and it’s almost criminal how he wields it.

The tattoo of the phoenix rising from the ashes on his right bicep catches my attention—its wings outstretched and the head splayed out on his shoulder. Now that he’s shared more of his past, it makes sense why he got it—a symbol of beating the odds and overcoming early hardships to achieve success.

“Your turn.” He nods toward my outfit.

He watches, his jaw slightly open as I unfasten the buttons of my pants and slowly tugs them down over my hips. Once they fall to the ground, I step out one leg at a time and kick them out of the way. I shoot him a sultry glance as I gradually lift my shirt over my head, and he groans. His patience wears thin when he catches his first glimpse of my bra, amplifying the thrill of the reaction I provoke in him.

Once I’m down to my bra and underwear, he closes the distance between us, takes me by the hand, and leads me to the pool steps. He was right. The pool is warm when we step in. The water envelops me and the slight chill in the air fades away.

I release Dawson’s hand and wade farther into the pool. I lie back, stretch out my arms, and drift on the water’s surface, feeling a sense of weightlessness. My legs extend, occasionally shifting with the gentle current. I allow myself to relax, my eyes fluttering shut, lost in the soothing rhythm of the water.

Floating in the pool brings a sense of relaxation I haven’t felt in ages. Today was perfect and gave me a peek into who Dawson is outside of the office.

From a distance, he comes across as a hard-edged lawyer, but in truth, he’s kind, generous, and surprisingly thoughtful. He’s taken every opportunity to find ways to lighten my load and I’mleft with a startling realization—I could be in danger of falling in love with Dawson Tate.

With every moment we share I see beyond his tailored suits and brash demeanor. My feelings are shifting into genuine affection, and I’m afraid it could turn into something so much more.

I have a complex history with love, marked by losing some of the people I cared about most.

But even though being with Dawson makes me giddy and has my heart racing when we’re together, I can’t forget that he’s still my boss.

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