Olivia: You think I’m perfect?

I stared at the text message, like I had been doing since she sent it an hour ago. Of course, that was what she had chosen to take from my message.

I could only hope she’d forget all about the messages by the time she was sober tomorrow. I also had to hope she didn’t go back and read them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jameson?” I muttered to myself and ran my hands over my face. I had to get my shit under control. Everything I’d worked toward for the past twenty years was on the line, a man’s life was on the line, my entire career was on the line, and here I was acting like some lovesick twenty-year-old.

I liked Olivia, there was no denying that, even as much as she made me crazy sometimes. Her stubborn, cocky, take-no-bullshit attitude had grown on me over the past few weeks. I guessed spending twelve-plus hours a day with someone would either make you like them or hate them. And I liked spending time with her, especially when we weren’t talking about work or the Delaney case.

Even though it was 11:30, I put on workout gear and went down to the gym. I’d never sleep if I didn’t burn off some of this frustration. I had hoped Olivia would come over and help me with that, but now I wasn’t only sexually frustrated, but I was generally pissed off at myself, too.

Why now, after years of being alone, did I have to find someone who made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time? And someone I shouldn’t have, couldn’t have? I didn’t love Olivia, yet, but it wouldn’t be hard to make the leap from where I was now to a place where love was in the equation. And then everything would be a complete cluster fuck, if it wasn’t already.

I turned my music up and let it drown out thoughts of Olivia and love and ridiculous things I couldn’t have. When I finished lifting weights, I ran on the treadmill until my legs couldn’t keep up anymore. I showered quickly and fell into bed, sheer exhaustion not leaving room for anything but sleep.

* * *

Olivia was already at the courthouse when I arrived Monday morning. She was all business in her skirt suit with a blood red blouse underneath, her hair pulled back in a sophisticated bun. She was sipping coffee and flipping through a yellow notebook in the room designated for the defense team, and later, our witnesses.

“Good morning,” I said, entering the room and setting my briefcase down on the table. She looked up and smiled. “You’re here bright and early this morning.” I hadn’t really expected anyone else to be here yet, since opening arguments weren’t scheduled to start for almost two hours.

“I like to get here early on trial days, watch as everyone else arrives,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. “I feel like it gives me an edge.” She went back to looking through her notebook, every few seconds scribbling more notes in the margin.

“I see you’ve recovered from your night out.”

“It’s not easy being perfect, but someone’s got to do it,” she sighed dramatically. Was that a reference to my text message? Or was she just being Olivia? It was hard to tell. “Will you sit down and relax? I can feel you stressing about something and it’s throwing my energy off.”

“Your energy?” I raised my eyebrow. “Are you one of those people who believes in auras and psychics and shit?”

“Psychics, no, I’m not crazy. But don’t fuck with my energy, Jameson.” She put down her pen and looked at me sharply. “You attract what you put out in the world, so if you are all stressed and worried and uptight, that’s what you are going to attract. I don’t need that right now, and neither does Josh.”

“That sounds ridiculous.” She pushed her chair back and stood, closing the few steps between us until she was right in front of me. I could smell her perfume, and it made my pulse quicken. I kept my eyes on her face, fighting the natural urge to skim down her body and admire her curves.

“Look, I have been more than accommodating with bringing you onto this case, but if you are going to mess with my pre-trial ritual, then you have to leave. There is a reason I get here before everyone else, so either sit down and shut up or come back in an hour.”

“What if I don’t want to do either one of those things?” I challenged. This was turning into a disaster already, and the trial hadn’t even started. I was turned on just standing here arguing with her.

“I don’t really give a shit. I’m the lead attorney on this case, which means I’m in charge.” She smirked like she loved the idea of being able to tell me what to do.

“Lead attorney? I don’t think so. I have years more experience than you.”

“I have seniority at the firm and on this case.” She put her hands on her hips—she wasn’t backing down on this—and I had my own pre-trial prep to get to.

“You can be lead attorney today, but this conversation isn’t over,” I conceded.

“Oooh, thanks for letting me be in charge for the day, Daddy,” she mocked. I half-expected her to say, “You’re not the boss of me,” but she just glared at me and turned back to her work, plopping down in her chair and pulling the pen out of her bun. I leaned over her, putting my hands on either side of her chair.

“I can think of several times and places I’d like you to call me Daddy, but this isn’t one of them,” I whispered in her ear. I heard her intake of breath and smiled to myself. “We have a trial to get through and I can’t do it with a raging hard-on.”

“That sounds like a personal problem to me, Mr. Beck,” she drawled. I spun her chair around so she was facing me. Her eyes wandered down the front of my pants to see if I was lying. I wasn’t. She smirked, but didn’t say anything.

“Can we just agree to play nice for the next few weeks?” I asked.

“I was playing nice,” she snapped. “It’s not my fault you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“Actually it is your fault.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t dress any more conservatively than this, not that I’m responsible for dressing in a way that makes you comfortable, but that’s an entirely different argument. But if me arguing turns you on, then you should probably tell Jack and Dan you can’t work this case.”

“Not a chance in hell.” I stood up and took a few steps away. I had to put some distance between us, before I kissed her, before I shut the door and fucked her right here.

“If you think you’re going to get me to back off on this case, you are wrong. I’ve worked too hard and too long on this to turn the reins over to you now,” she said. “Until this case is over at least, we are still equals here. You don’t get to be in control just because you’re a man.”

If she kept talking, I was going to find a way to shut her up. I had to get out of this tiny room and away from Olivia Roberts.

“Fine, we’ll try it your way,” I said, spinning on my heel and turning toward the door. “I’ll see you in the courtroom.”