Page 12 of Three Bossy Boyfriends
If not really me thinking on my feet.
Because Finley is nothing like the description of her sisters that Christopher had given.
But in my defense, I’d been trying to show initiative. Get ’er done, as they say. Lock in a fake relationship, make partner, fuck Christopher. I’m running out of patienceandhand lotion because I can’t bring myself to hook up with anyone else, and the blue balls are killing me.
“We’re here to make sure you pass the bar exam,” I say smoothly, determined to at least enjoy a nice dinner away from the office and my lonely ass apartment, even if Finley probably won’t work for mine and Christopher’s make-me-a-partner-so-we-can-fuck-immediately plan. “And to get to know each other, since you’ll be working with me frequently as my paralegal.”
“Did you take Kyle to dinner when she started?”
“Uh…no.” I try to gloss it over. “But she mostly works with Mary Grace.”
“Poor thing,” Finley mutters under her breath. But then she gives me a smile. “Where are you from, Evan? I can’t place your accent.”
“Chicago. Born and raised until I decided to go to law school at Clemson.”
“Do you miss winter? Chicago sports? The hustle and bustle?”
“Winter, no. Sports, yes. I am a huge hockey fan, so I love the Racketeers, and of course, the Cubs. The hustle and bustle, sometimes. I also miss public transportation.”
Finley sits back in her chair, looking immediately more relaxed. “Right? I hate driving everywhere now that I’m back here. I have to concentrate too much. I miss the train—aside from the fact that the subway is the sole reason I did not pass the bar exam.”
The server sets down my bourbon and Finley’s martini in front of us. I take a sip, savoring the hint of vanilla, as Finley fishes her olive out of her drink and pops it in her mouth with a sexy little maneuver that makes me tense up. Finley is a beautiful woman. That’s why in the moment, it made total sense to me to ask her to dinner. Hell, even eager.
I thought it was Christopher’s plan and Finley intrigues me with her sassy little smile and her tousled dark hair.
I wouldn’t have to pretend to be attracted to her, that’s for damn sure.
“How is that?” I ask.
“I got stuck on the train. It broke down. Missed the start time for the exam, plain and simple. What are the odds, right?” She gives a rueful shrug and lifts her glass to take a sip. “So here I am, groveling back home for a free room at my sisters’ and a job from Dad. It’s mortifying.”
“That’s just bad luck,” I say, feeling sympathetic. “But I think you’ll gain some valuable experience at the firm before you take the bar again.”
She makes a noncommittal sound. “So what was that this morning, between you and Christopher?”
I tense up. I can’t help it. For over a year, I’ve been trying to ignore my feelings for him, but they’re too strong. I respect him. I admire his intelligence and drive. I love the way his teeth are slightly crooked—and I love his calm, rational approach to thelaw and clients. I also spend a stupid amount of time fantasizing about waking up together on a Sunday morning tangled up in his sheets before cooking him breakfast.
It’s a constant pain point to have to pretend to others there isn’t something brewing between us, and it turns innocent questions into landmines.
“What do you mean?” I ask, striving for nonchalance. I lift my snifter to my lips.
“You were basically eye-fucking each other, that’s what I mean.”
Fuck.
I’m completely caught off guard, and the bourbon goes down wrong. I stifle a cough with my fist while shaking my head at Finley. She is casually swinging her leg up and down over her other leg, martini in hand.
Definitely a direct, no bullshit person.
“Are you together?” she presses. “A little office romance?”
Now I shake my head violently. “No,” I manage to say, clearing my throat repeatedly. That bourbon burned.
“Why not? Don’t tell me it’s an issue for two men to be together, is it? Because I will be forced to quit if that’s the case.”
I set my drink down and eye her, wondering how forthcoming I can be. I decide not to confirm or deny, which is essentially confirmation. “No, of course not.Iwouldn’t work there if it was an issue. It’s not about gender—it’s aboutwho. As a senior partner, Christopher is my boss. There are rules against that for various legal reasons.”
“Of course, lawyers would have rules.” Finley makes a face.
