CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Mia

Ri turns to face me the minute the door shuts, running a hand through his blond sleek hair. “Really, Mia? I helped you in a time of need and you’re looking for a job?”

That sets me off and I forget fear. “Helped me? Are you serious? What happened to you’re a fine attorney and we want to win the bidding war? What happened to me being a damn good attorney?” I walk further into the room, stopping in front of his desk between the two visitor’s chairs but facing him at the window. “It was never about me now, was it? It was about fucking Grayson by fucking his woman if you could make it happen.”

“His woman?”

“Oh my God, Ri. Stop. I’m talking past tense. You wanted to fuck me to fuck him and now that you know you can’t, you act like a total asshole to me. You throw files on my desk. You demand updates on my cases. I don’t even report directly to you. I can’t believe I was this stupid.” I rotate and start to walk away.

He closes the space between us and grabs my arm, whirling me around. “That’s not how it is.”

“Let go of me, Ri, or I swear the next knee I give you will do permanent damage and right now, I think it would be a good thing to prevent you from ever producing a mini-me.”

“Did you really just say that to me?”

“Let go of me Ri. You have about thirty seconds or I will knee you and scream.”

His jaw clenches. “Fuck, Mia.” He releases me. “Happy?”

“No,” I say. “I cannot be happy in the middle of this war. That’s the problem but I have a client I really care about that I want to help. If you can’t let me do my job then at least let me bring another attorney that I pick up to speed. You owe me that for using me like you have.”

“I didn’t use you. I want you. I want to be what he couldn’t be for you and you know that. That’s why you agreed to go out with me.”

“I went to dinner with you because—it was a bad night. It was—I’d seen—”

“Grayson all over the papers with another woman. I know. I thought finally you saw the truth. He was always a ladies’ man. Always, Mia. He fucked my woman in college. He fucked everyone’s woman and yet, you said his fucking name in my home. You can’t get over him.”

“Maybe I never will,” I say. “My heart is still with him. I can’t change that, and you can’t change it because you’re like his stalker ex-girlfriend. All you care about is hurting him. You never wanted me.”

His cellphone rings and he ignores it. “Stalker ex-girlfriend? Holy fuck, Mia. Did you write out that insult before coming in here?”

“You’re obsessed to the point of it being scary. I don’t want to be in the middle of this. Part of me wants to move to another city. I just want out.”

“If I proved you wrong about Grayson—if I made you see that you matter, not him? Then what?”

“My God, Ri. What would happen if you did fuck me? Would you take out an announcement in The New York Times to make sure Grayson knew? Stop trying to fuck me already and if you can’t, then let me out of my contact. Be a decent person and let me go.”

He scrubs his jaw and looks away before fixing me in a stare. “You’re a damn good attorney. I won’t let you out of your contact. I’ll back off and hope that one day you see that I have a sincere interest.”

“The day you stop going after Grayson, I won’t even know who you are. Maybe introduce yourself then.”

“I’m not going after Grayson.”

“Maybe not actively, but we both know if you get the chance, you’ll take it. I don’t want to be a part of that, Ri. Am I staying or are you letting me go?”

The phone on his desk buzzes and Tabitha speaks over the intercom. “Someone named RJ says it’s urgent. He’s on line two. Do you want it?”

Ri positively scowls. “Yeah. I want it.” He looks at me. “Don’t move.” He stalks to his phone, grabs it, and picks up the line. “I told you not to call me at the office. I fucking meant it. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up and looks at me. “You have a contract, Mia. I’m not letting you out of it.” His jaw sets hard. “Go back to work.”

I get the sense he suddenly wants me out of his office and that it’s connected to that call. I don’t fight his demand. I don’t have to. He doesn’t know about me and Grayson. I’d know. He’s just pissed at me, but he won’t let me go. Not when I’m a weapon against Grayson. I open the door to exit and instinct has me turning to face his office before I push his door shut, and just in time to see him reach in his left draw and pull out a phone and it’s not the one that was normally in his pocket.

I quickly shut the door and I don’t look at Tabitha. I walk past her and to my office that I enter and shut the door. The minute I’m inside, I pull my phone from my pocket and send a group text: Someone named RJ called the office phone and Ri got pissed. He told him not to call him here. When I was leaving he didn’t know I turned around and saw him open his left drawer and pull out a phone and it wasn’t the one he had in his pocket. I think it was a burner phone and I think he was calling that RJ person.

Blake answers immediately: We’ll get the number off the phone and tap it.

But how? I think. Surely Ri will take that phone home tonight. I’m shocked he kept it in his desk at all but he must have a reason.

My phone buzzes again with another message from Blake: You did good, Mia. FYI we haven’t swept your office yet. Don’t hold conversations that could be damaging.

I inhale and fight the urge to call Grayson. That’s what he was telling me. Don’t call Grayson and Grayson can’t call me or text me. He’s silent and I wonder if he was listening. I wonder if there was something I said that he didn’t like and it’s killing me. I can’t take it. I dial his number. “Mia,” he breathes out into the phone.

“Did you—”

“Every word.”

“You didn’t—”

“You don’t want in the middle of this war. I heard you. You said that to me, too.”

“I was hurt and angry when I said that to you.”

“You were telling the truth,” he replies. “And I don’t want you in the middle of it and yet, there you are today, right in the middle.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“Yes. It is. I didn’t end this a year ago when he sent Becky to my office to fuck us the way he wants to fuck you. That’s right. Asher found electronic proof that Mitch and Becky were working for Ri. We no longer have to speculate. You won’t be in the middle long, Mia. Of that, you can be certain.”

“What does that mean?”

“A conversation better had in person.”

My stomach knots. “You’re not talking about us, right?”

“No, Mia, I am not talking about us. We do not end ever again. Stay out of his way today. And I’ll make sure he stays out of your way from this point forward.” My phone on my desk buzzes and he says, “I’ll be close, baby.” Grayson hangs up and the receptionist says, “Delaney Wittmore is on the line.”

My client, who I need to talk to. “Put her through,” I say, trying to shake off the idea that the worst thing that ever happened to Ri was for Grayson to hear that conversation which wouldn’t bother me if I knew what that meant, but I don’t. What is Grayson about to do and what consequences will that have for him and us? I need to see him. I need to talk to him, and yet, I cannot. I’m here, trapped inside a world that Ri controls.

I grab the phone. “Hi, Delaney.”

“Mia, how are things coming along? Do we have a trial date? Is there any hope of ending this without one?”

“There’s always hope.” We talk a good fifteen minutes and we’ve just hung up when Kevin pops his head in the door.

“You’re still on staff?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “For now, all remains the same.”

“Are you looking for a job?”

“Not anymore.”

“Good. Then we have a team meeting at six. It’s the only way to get past everyone’s court schedule.”

“Six. Yes. Okay. I’ll be here.”

He disappears and now I officially know that I’ll be here late, after hours and exposed in a sparsely occupied office. I grab my phone and decide against a group text that might make it to Grayson and set him off. I text Kara instead: I have to be here for a six pm staff meeting.

She replies: I know. I overheard Ri telling Kevin to set it up. He’s behind the meeting. We need to meet before six. Coffee shop downstairs at four.

I type, I’ll see you there, and then set my phone down, letting this news sink in. Ri, who doesn’t have any direct interaction with our team, set up this meeting. Ri wants me here late. He’s up to something.