Page 14 of Ex- Factor
Chapter Eight- Eshe
It had been two weeks since I’d seen Silas.
Not that I was counting. But I was. It was my fault.
He’d been calling and texting, but I hadn’t really been replying. I’d been busy. Mr. Welling, my boss, had taken on two high-profile cases that demanded my full attention.
And I was also kind of avoiding him.
The days we’d spent together had me thinking we needed to take a few steps back. I said we could be friends, but we were heading in the wrong direction if that was all I planned on being. It was all I could deal with right now.
I knocked on my boss’s door, balancing a stack of files against my hip before pushing it open.
He looked up.
He was older, but he still carried himself like he’d probably been the shit in the ‘90s. Tall, salt-and-pepper hair always perfectly combed. Expensive suits and shoes. A Bentley in the parking lot. He talked slow and soft, but there was power behind his words. I liked working for him.
I got to the point. “You still have jury selection at nine,” I said, flipping through the printout I’d made. The pages were warm from the printer, the ink still smelling faintly chemical—just how he liked it. “Judge O’Dell moved pretrial to Thursday.And your client in the Lennox case—” I paused, wrinkling my nose at the memory. “He needs to show up early. And sober. Don’t let him come in here smelling like a vape pen again. The bailiffs were talking about it.”
Welling chuckled from behind his big oak desk, swirling a glass of something amber. Ice clinked. “You always make me look more competent than I am.”
I gave him a tight smile and turned to leave just as the office door swung open.
“Hey, Dad.”
Jace, his son, walked in, nearly knocking me over.
I’d only seen him twice before—once at the firm’s holiday party, another time when he’d stopped by to borrow his dad’s car. He had that beach-boy look—tall, with wavy dark hair that looked purposely tousled, and slight almond eyes because his mother was a pretty-ass Chinese woman.
Today, he was dressed in rich-boy casual: a linen button-up open at the collar, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and sneakers that probably cost more than my rent.
He was a flirt. Attractive. Nice slim body—but he was cut.
Welling greeted him, then excused me with a small nod. I stepped past Jace, but he turned and followed me into the hallway.
“Hey, Eshe.”
I paused, adjusting the files in my arms. I turned to look at him, putting on my best fake smile. I didn’t really want to be bothered today.
“You got plans after work?” he asked casually, like it didn’t matter whether I said yes or no. “I was thinking we could grab a bite. There’s this Thai spot downtown I’ve been wanting to try.”
I hesitated. Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours—not that I was counting.
For some reason, my mind went right to Silas. That decided my answer for me.
“Sure,” I said. “Dinner sounds good.”
I’d already played this game with Donte—moving too fast—and look what it got me. I needed to chill. I needed a distraction. But tell me why I felt guilty. Like I was about to cheat on my boyfriend?
I smoothed my hand down the lime silk dress that hugged my curves. I’d roller-set my hair, and it had curled into these big ‘80s-style waves that made me look kind of sexy. Jace had picked a restaurant that played jazz and served small plates. The silverware was heavy, so I knew whatever we ordered was going to be expensive. I wasn’t even about to act cute and offer to pay—he had it.
We were waiting on our food, and he was talking. About himself.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming the stem of his wineglass. “So there I was, halfway down the Alps, when I realize—merde—I forgot my poles.” He flashed a grin, waiting for me to respond. I had nothing.
I nodded on cue and curved my lips.
Merde, he repeated, slower, making sure I appreciated his linguistic prowess.
