Page 19 of The Lawyer
She nods and backs up a step, gently shrouding herself with the cloak once more, and then walks back into the apartment. I follow until we’re at the door, taking every last glimpse of her I can, and then open it for her. “At least tell me you’ll come back again.”
Her head crooks back to me as she passes under my arm, and she gives me that low chuckle of hers. That’s all I get before she strides out away from me.
Chapter Eight
WILLOW
Landon. Fucking. Broderick.
My weekend was uneventful, but then, after Friday night, nothing could fill me with any form of excitement other than the obvious. I was hesitant at what the evening would entail because, despite Jackson’s assurances, going to some random guy’s apartment to dance was not a smart move. But the money was too tempting, especially as Ash seems to be draining the house account as soon as the money comes in.
Jackson had organised a taxi, so I didn’t have his actual address, but I knew the place as soon as we pulled up to the building. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but there was only one penthouse. My penthouse.
At least, the one I picked for Landon.
The nervous energy that thrummed through my veins turned to excitement the moment he opened the door and I saw his face. Desire sparked in his eyes and kindled that attraction I couldn’t deny.
Jackson had chastised me on the rules and stipulations I’d given if I was to go through with this, but they were my protection. And having realised who the client actually was, I was damned thankful for them. Landon couldn’t know this is what I did. My day job was my security. It was also my cover and my authentication in a world that needed everything to be above board and deemed normal.
Despite all of my reasoning and the rules, when I got into the dance, when I could watch Landon watching me move, it grew increasingly difficult to stay away. My body came alive in that performance. His eyes ignited every nerve and fibre of my being, and I longed for just a simple touch—his flesh on mine. But I couldn’t. Not even when I watched him come apart with only the barest of touches.
I did that. Me.
It was a heady power that made me feel drunk and uneasy.
Landon featured in my dreams for the rest of the weekend, and I woke hot and breathless, with my hand between my thighs several times. It was hollow and less than satisfactory,but I needed some relief. It wasn’t hard to pretend it was his fingers pressing against my skin, his hands touching and rubbing me to climax.
~
Monday finally arrives, and I don’t think I've ever felt as excited to get to work. It's like the first day at school when I was a kid, and everything was shiny and new.
In an hour, I’ll walk into my office, and Landon’s, and I’ll know his darkest, filthiest secret—me. Even taming my hair feels easier, like it knows that it's important to cooperate today. The lineup of shoes all look at me as if they want to be chosen today, but my sky-high black heels win out. Fuck-me heels are not my usual go to, but with a red sole, I can still pull them off as professional. Just.
For the first time since I started, I’m early into the office. The floor is quiet, and I go to my desk, turn on my computer and set the coffee machine working. Anticipation has me clapping my hands together in my own personal cheer as I check the time and what’s on the schedule today. Landon has his usual morning briefings, but so do we. And there’s more stuff to organise with the ball just around the corner. Catering details, floral arrangements, access requests—the list is endless and clogging my inbox.
At precisely nine, I push open Landon’s door, without knocking, and with my tablet in hand I strut across to the seat opposite his desk and sit. I cross my legs in a slow tease, that, if I was wearing what Juniper wore on Friday, should have his eyes popping out of his skull.
Instead, he looks mildly irritated.
I break eye contact, smile to myself, and pull up the calendar app on the tablet. “Shall we begin?” I offer my biggest smile. There’s no way that I’ll let him intimidate or shake me today.
“Yes.”
“So, after your run-in with legal, Tonya has requested a meeting with you today to go over her position and contract.”
“Smart, but no. It will be a standard contract. Non-negotiable. She's lucky I picked her."
“Salary?”
“Equal to whatever David's was.”
“I’ll confirm the usual meeting time and amend the calendar accordingly. Did you enjoy Friday night?” I ask with my eyes downcast, scribbling with my stylus on the tablet screen.
“What?” The edge of steel in his voice shouldn’t send my heart racing, but it does. I look up and tilt my head to the side, wondering if he’s picturing me dancing for him again.
“You asked me about Friday last week. I’m merely returning the courtesy. It’s quite common to ask how your weekend was on a Monday morning.” I smile as innocently as I can.
“You didn’t ask me about the weekend. You asked about Friday night.”
