Page 10 of Miss Understood

She reaches into her pocket, pulls out a napkin, and scribbles on it. “If you change your mind, I’m in town for a few days,” she says, sliding her number at me before walking away.

“Maybe I will.” I grin at Luce and wave the napkin at her just to get under her skin.

“Thanks.” Luce snatches the napkin from my fingers. “I could use a napkin. Need to touch up my makeup before we land, after all.”

Luce reaches into her purse and pulls out her cherry red lipstick, drawing a thick line over those perfectly pouty lips. She folds the napkin and presses it between them, leaving a red lip-shaped circle that I can instantly picture around my dick.

There’s no doubt in my mind she’s purposely trying to mess with me. Using her sexual ninja skills to rattle me up.

I know better.

Not going to work.

“Oh, sorry about that. Smudged the number a little, but I’m sure you can still figure it out.” She waves the napkin back at me. “When your dick falls off, you better hope it’s covered by our health insurance.”

“Are you legally bound to say that to all your partners?” I ask her.

Luce ignores the jab and smiles as a ping chimes through the plane.

“Seat belt,” she says, looking down at the erection I didn’t realize I was sporting. She shoots me an amused grin, like she just won a round.

Why are my two heads never cooperating?

I hate quick business trips. Especially to Vegas—something twenty-one-year-old Jesse would punch me for saying.

After all, I barely remember my first business trip to Sin City, back when I still made plenty of bad decisions that included blowing my money at the poker table and filling my time with strippers.

Between the meetings and the drunken blackouts, I’m not sure how I got anything done or made it as far as I did.

Now, I’ve got a business to run. Cases to close. Shit to do. And as much as I enjoy no-strings-attached sex on a regular basis, my days of hardcore partying can stay in the past. Along with this whole fucking town.

I barely have time to check into my room before Luce is knocking on the door and saying we need to head downstairs. I notice she’s changed into another one of her painted-on pencil skirts. This one has a slit that cuts up the back, almost all the way to her ass.

“Jesse?”

Luce definitely just caught me staring at her backside, so I hurry to close the door to my room.

As I follow her downstairs, she briefs me on what we need, where we’re at, what to expect. I already know everything she’s saying, but I let her talk anyway. She updates me on anything and everything as we make our way down the hall, into the elevator, down another hall, and into a glass-encased conference room.

Somewhere between the twenty-third floor and the second I get lost in the fact that Luce is genuinely excited. Maybe I’ve never worked this closely with her, or just haven’t let myself notice, but when she’s discussing cases, she might as well be a different person.

Right now, she’s not tearing a client or a fellow attorney to pieces. Instead, she’s engaged, focused, interested. The cold, hard exterior she usually puts on display softens slightly, and I see something else underneath.

We make it to the conference room, and there’s a pile of papers to get through. We barely scratch the surface before voices outside draw our attention.

Valentina Marchetto walks in ahead of her herd of personal attorneys. The sour look on her perfectly painted face means she’s already in a bad mood, and we haven’t even started talking.

“Valentina,” I say, taking her hand. She pulls me in and plants a kiss on one of my cheeks. The musky scent of her perfume catches me off guard and makes my stomach spin. I pull away, and her eyes fall to Luce, who is standing beside me. “I’d like to introduce you to Lucille Stevens, the newest addition to your team.”

Luce shakes hands with each of the attorneys, stopping at Valentina. There’s a moment of hesitation before Valentina reaches out her manicured hand. She skims Luce head to toe with her eyes and bats those long fake eyelashes, glancing at me and pursing her lips. They shake hands, but Valentina’s expression is unfriendly, and her eyes follow Luce all the way back to her seat.

I’ve known Valentina since she was getting into trouble with my sister at fifteen. I was already in law school and too busy to notice that their childish rebellions were the start of worse things. And by the time I finally did notice, it was already too late. Valentina had married Tony Marchetto by nineteen, and Serena was seeing his brother, Darian. They both got dragged into the Marchetto family mess.

Luckily for my family, my sister got out before things got too bad. But Valentina got knocked up and dragged further into shady business deals and the wrong crowd.

I didn’t even want to take her case, no matter how many zeros will be attached to the end of the check. If Serena hadn’t begged me to help her friend, I wouldn’t have. But I’m such a fucking sucker when it comes to my sister, and I can’t help it. So here I am, once again, in a Marchetto courtroom disaster.

“Where’s Marcus?” Valentina asks, looking directly at me.

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