Page 60 of Everest

I look good.

We look good.

Kallum and I fit together perfectly.

Dragging my nails along his thighs, I keep a steady pace, all while watching our reflection.

“Tell me you’re close,” Kallum grits out.

“I’m close,” I confess. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as my release builds and my pussy starts to pulse around his cock.

“Fuck, I can feel you comin’.” Kallum thrust his hips upward.

That’s all it takes. On a cry, my orgasm slams through me. Behind me, Kallum curses through heaving breaths as he follows me over the edge.

Later that morning, Promise and I arrive at the office the same way we have the past couple of days, with Catcher as our shadow. Zara is there waiting for us when we walk in. Since she has to drop her son off at preschool early every morning, she comes straight to the office to prepare Promise’s and my calendars and to make coffee. And if we have client meetings in the office that day, she ensures beverages and snacks are prepared and in the conference room.

“Morning, guys,” Zara greets us with a smile.

“Morning, Zara.”

Zara stands and walks around her desk. “London, Mrs. Wells had to reschedule her eight-thirty appointment for this Friday. However, I took a call from a gentleman about ten minutes ago who insisted on meeting with you.” Zara looks down at her tablet. “Mr. Harrison. He said you were recommended by a friend of his. He sounded rather desperate, so I put him down for eight-thirty since Mrs. Wells rescheduled. I hope that’s okay. If not, I can call him back.”

I wave my hand. “No, no. That’s fine. I’ll take the meeting. Thanks, Zara.”

Zara looks down at her watch. “Mr. Harrison should be here in fifteen minutes. I’ll set the conference room up.”

Catcher takes his post in the corner of the waiting room while Promise disappears down the hall toward her office. “I have some calls to make,” she calls out over her shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything.”

On my way to my office, Zara passes me holding a cup of coffee, a paper plate filled with a couple of donuts, and a ham and cheese bagel. She heads straight for the waiting area where Catcher is sitting and passes him the food and coffee. I smile at how well Zara has gotten used to his presence.

Once in my office, I store my purse in the cabinet beside my desk and grab a notepad, pen, and laptop before heading into the conference room. Just as I settle into one of the chairs, Zara appears at the door. “Hey, Mr. Harrison just arrived. You still have a few minutes. Do you want me to have him take a seat out there or send him back?”

“I’m ready for him. You can send him back.”

Zara nods and dips out of the room. A few seconds later, she returns with a man close behind.

Standing, I make my way around the table to greet him. “You must be Mr. Harrison.” I offer the man my hand and a warm smile. “I’m Ms. Monroe.”

I take in the man standing before me. He’s at least six feet tall and slim but has broad shoulders. His hair is dark brown, almost black, and he has brown eyes. I’d put him at around mid to late thirties. I can’t note anything remarkable about the man, but he exudes confidence and has an air of authority. He’s dressed in a sharp suit, perfectly tailored to his build and height. I don’t miss the Rolex on his wrist when he takes my hand. Also, I don’t miss the gold cufflinks he’s sporting. The man obviously comes from money or is successful in his own right, which has me wondering why he’s looking to hire me. Not that I’m not a damn good attorney, but guys like Mr. Harrison tend to lean toward the more popular firms downtown that cater to the elite and wealthy. Birds of a feather and all that jazz.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Monroe. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.” Mr. Harrison smiles. I’ll admit Mr. Harrison has a great smile with perfectly straightwhite teeth, but he lacks those little lines at the corners of his eyes, which tell me he doesn’t smile too often.

“It’s no problem at all, Mr. Harrison.” I gesture toward the chair at the end of the table. “Please, have a seat.”

Mr. Harrison inclines his head and takes a seat.

“Before we get started, would you like anything to drink? We have coffee, juice, or bottled water.”

“How kind of you, Ms. Monroe, but I’m good.”

I nod and sit across from him. “Why don’t we start with why you are here today?” I open my laptop and prepare to take notes. When Mr. Harrison doesn’t say anything, I look up from my computer to find him watching me, his gaze assessing. I’m not sure what to make of the man just yet, as he seems relaxed with his impeccable posture. One hand rests on top of the table while the other is casually draped over the arm of the chair. Yet, there is something about Mr. Harrison that raises questions, and I just can’t put my finger on why.

Finally, he speaks, “I want to divorce my wife.”

“Okay.” I keep my tone even and wait for Mr. Harrison to elaborate.

“Six months ago, I started to suspect she was having an affair, so I hired a private detective. It didn’t take him long to confirm my suspicions.”

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