I walked to the counter at Lindy’s and ordered coffee for two.

“Thanks for meeting me.”

The short man with gray-blond hair eyed me suspiciously. “My lawyer advised me against it. You’ve got fifteen minutes. What did you want to say that we couldn’t discuss with him?”

It was Monday morning. Our court date was Wednesday. We had two days to get this straightened out if we wanted to avoid going in front of a judge. And I was desperately hoping to do just that.

I motioned to a table by the window, and we sat. I pulled out the file folder Nate and I had spent all weekend putting together. None of the information was from Nate’s time representing Bryson. Just some old-fashioned research—which it turned out my boyfriend was damned good at.

I slid the file across the table.

Lindy dropped over our coffee and I smiled at her. Bryson frowned.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded, opening the folder.

“I don’t know,” I said innocently, turning back to him. “But it looks like this contract, which I got from a Jennifer Marvin and Co., says that for the last five years you haven’t even been producing your own designs. You’ve been subcontracting them.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not illegal.”

“No. Except that you haven’t told anyone. Which means you want to keep it quiet. Probably because people wouldn’t want to shell out hundreds of dollars for designs that aren’t even yours.” I cocked my head. “Funny thing. Wasn’t Jennifer Marvin and Co. sued for infringing on copyright?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re a meddling amateur,” he hissed.

“True. And I’m nowhere near as good at keeping things quiet as you are, Mr. Bryson. Don’t you think the judge will be interested to find this out? I don’t know much about the law, but if I were in his shoes, I’d at least want to know about all this.” I thought about it a moment. “What kind of shoes do judges wear?”

Bryson was glaring at me like I was dirt under his shoe. But instead of just loathing, I could see the fear in his gaze. “What do you want. Money?”

I shook my head. “Drop the suit.”

He looked incredulous. “That’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want. All I want. I’m not here to expose you, unless I have to. Make your designs. We just want to be able to make ours.”

Bryson laughed sardonically. “Good luck. The industry isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. You make one skirt and think your star’s on the rise. It’s not easy. One day you’re in and the next you’re garbage.”

“I know it’s not easy. And I know there will always be people who want to take us down. We have you to thank for reminding us of that. But guess what, Tony.” I leaned forward, energy surging in my veins. “Can I call you Tony?” I didn’t wait for him to respond. “We’re ready. Because we’ve worked for every scrap we have. And we’ll keep working for it.”

Bryson pushed back from the table, eyes narrowed.

“I expect the suit will be dropped by the end of the day.”

He shook his head. I might not know law, but I knew the look on his face. He’d given in.

The high of victory surged through me as I reached over to pick up the coffee he’d left untouched on the table. No point wasting perfectly good caffeine. I could take it home to Nate.

“Sweetie, I wouldn’t do that,” Lindy called from behind the counter.

“Why not?”

“I spit in it.”

I snorted. “Thanks, Lindy.” Then pulled out my phone and sent a text message.

* * *

Friday The Bar was packed. Despite getting the case dropped Monday, it was our first chance to go out because of all the work. Plus, Nate had gone back to Minneapolis to wrap up his work obligations and get the last of the few things he’d brought to his apartment.

I followed my girls onto the dance floor and moved to the music.

When an arm went around my waist, I didn’t even have to look. I knew the body, the way it fit against mine. How my pulse sped up. That heat pooled between my legs in anticipation of what would come later.

I turned my face up to him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Nate looked down at me, wearing a crooked smile. My heart exploded.

“We did it, Nate. We actually did it.” I was still swimming in the victory. When I’d told Lex, she’d actually cried with happiness. Jordan had released a series of swear words that gave me a run for my money.

“You did it. You’re all amazing.” He puts his mouth to my ear. “But especially you.”

“You helped.” I was drunk. Gloriously, happily drunk, and the world had never been better. And I wanted to share all of it with him.

“When I came to New York I decided I needed someone real.” The music wasn’t loud but I still had to press close to his ear to be heard. “But when I saw you again, it all came rushing back. I told myself we couldn’t because you were just a player. And self-absorbed. And an ass …”

Nate’s eyes shone in the low light. “When I saw you in that conference room, all flushed and looking at me like I was the devil, you were the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I figured I was going straight to hell thinking the things I was sitting across from you.” He slid a hand down my side, and it settled at my waist like it was made to be there. “You completely spelled me.”

I frowned, trying to make sense of his words. “I’m not a very good speller. I was the first one out in the fourth-grade spelling bee.”

He grinned. “I’m so fucking in love with you, Ava Cameron.”

“I’m even more fucking in love with you, Nate Townsend.”

“Sounds like a lot of fucking,” he teased.

I raised my eyebrows. “You said it, Suit, not me.”

That night we closed the bar after two, following three rounds of shots and some epic dancing. We poured Kirsten and others from the magazine into cabs and got me, Lex, Nate, and Jordan into another.

Jordan stumbled to the couch and face-planted onto it. She was down for the count. Lex vanished into her room while Nate followed me into mine.

He’d let his apartment go so he needed to find a new one. Fortunately, he had a lead on one in our building. But for this week he was living with us.

Thanks to some research Nate had started while he was still in Minneapolis, he’d landed a job with Ty doing class-action lawsuits against big firms. He was starting Monday.

I pulled the door quietly behind us, sidestepping the suitcase he’d left there earlier in the day. Then I turned back to see Nate looking around in fascination. Nearly all of the nights we’d found time to spend together, we’d slept at his place.

His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his pressed blue shirt open at the collar. “I’ve never really looked in here. It’s such a girl’s room,” he said, turning in a slow circle.

He walked around. Picked up a snow globe off the shelf. Shook it before setting it down again. Collected a few pencils, which were scattered on every surface, and set them in the half-empty vase that doubled as a pencil holder. Then he glanced over sheepishly like he realized what he was doing. “Can’t help it.”

It didn’t bother me that he wanted to contain my mess, as long as he didn’t expect me to. “It’s OK.”

Nate zeroed in on something over the bed.

Shit.

A second later he plucked the check off my bulletin board. “What’s this?”

“Oh God!” My eyes bugged out as I crossed to him and jumped on his back in a tiny drunk woman’s best attempt at a football tackle.

“Whoa!” He laughed as I fell off the side.

I tried to swipe the check out of his hands, but he pulled it away, far enough I could see it but not take it. I re-read my handwriting that said “Pretty Boy Townsend.” “That’s you,” I told him solemnly.

“You calling me pretty, Cameron?” he murmured.

“You have some very attractive angles,” I declared. “This check was supposed to help me stop thinking about you. I might’ve had the teensiest bit of a hard time doing it.” I held my index finger and thumb a quarter inch apart. So he knew just how teensy we were talking about.

Nate took the check and deliberately ripped it in two. “You don’t owe me anything. Even though I want more from you now than I ever did.”

My heart did a somersault.

Or maybe it was my stomach, post-alcohol.

Either way I swooned.

“I want you more than I ever did too.”

“I’m a hard guy to stay away from.” A cocky grin crossed his face.

I shook my head. “No! I mean yes. But it’s not that Nate that makes me crazy. Cocky Nate I can handle.” He nodded in agreement, pulling me toward him. “God, Nate. I didn’t mean that I handle your cock. Though I do. And I really like to.”

His eyes were hot and I could feel him hard against me, but I needed to make him understand.

“It was the other Nate that got to me. The night you wouldn’t let me sit on the floor in the hall, even though I was being a brat. The way you looked at me when you begged me to stay at your parents. How you helped me with Travesty when I didn’t ask for it, because you knew I needed it. It was who you were deep down.”

He kissed me. It was deep and a little sweet and a lot hungry. “You mean that I’m a lawyer? Or a Townsend?” he murmured.

“I wish you weren’t,” I said earnestly. “A lawyer or a Townsend.”

He chuckled, trying to keep his voice down for the sake of the others sleeping a wall away. “How’d I get so fucking lucky with you?”

“You wanna get lucky?” I was a sure thing tonight.

His eyes darkened. “Come here, kitten. There are a lot of things I want to do with you, but you’ll have to purr quietly.”