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Griffin

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I stalk down the corridor in the courthouse toward the open elevator. I’ve already called out once for the people onboard to hold it, but they don’t fucking care. Everyone is in a rush to get somewhere in this town and they don’t give a shit who they piss off to get there.

Today it’s me. As I near the elevator the doors slide shut.

I don’t bother reaching in to hold them open because I don’t want to ride down with those inconsiderate assholes.

I’ll wait for another bunch in the next car and I’ll take the trip to the ground floor with them.

“Griffin?”

I don’t turn around because I recognize the voice of the person calling my name.

“Griffin? I know it’s you.”

Of course she knows it’s me. I fucked her two months ago, and once a few weeks before that. I really have to start following my rule of no sex with colleagues.

I hear the click-clack of her sky-high heels as she closes the distance between us. I need the elevator to haul ass back up here now.

“Are you avoiding me?” Lana Dunstrom puts her hand on my shoulder. “Why does it feel like you’re ignoring me?”

Because I am?

The fuck was fun, but that’s all it was. If I wanted a relationship it sure as hell wouldn’t happen with someone who I regularly face in court.

I can’t wrap my brain around the vision of fucking a woman after we wake up in the same bed and then fucking her over in court a few hours later.

I have boundaries. One of them happens to be that I won’t get more involved than a casual screw with a woman I see inside a courtroom.

“I’ve been busy, Lana.” I look down at her. “You’ve been busy too, I hope. We’re due in court the week after next to argue the Lindel case. I take it your client is ready for that?”

She eyes me up with her baby blues. “Mr. Lindel is more than ready to take you on.”

I highly doubt it.

He’s a coke-snorting, cheating bastard who left his wife home alone for an entire weekend with their three young children while he partied in Southampton like he was single.

“We’ll see about that,” I say in a low tone. “Your case is weak. Our offer is still on the table. I’ll refresh in the event that you’ve forgotten. My client wants full custody of the kids. Child support, alimony and the deed on the apartment in the city are acceptable. He can keep his party pad in Southampton and his new friends.”

“You’re dreaming.” She runs her hand through her long blonde hair. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Sleeping.” I jab my finger into the elevator call button again.

“We can do that together,” she purrs.

“I prefer to sleep alone.”

She sighs. It’s most likely meant to sound breathy and sensual, but it comes across as desperate and dramatic. “I miss you, Griffin. There’s no reason why we can’t spend another night together.”

There are a million reasons why we can’t, in the form of dollar bills. I want those to go to Mrs. Lindel. I’m not about to risk the case over a conflict of interest because my cock is involved with the opposing counsel.

I finally turn to face her. “We need to keep our pants on, Lana. This case is a big one. You know your boss would be pissed if he knew you fucked me two weeks before we’re in front of the judge.”

“How would he find out?”

It’s a good question that I have an answer to. “He’s walking toward us right now. Put on your game face, sweetheart. You know he plays by the rule book.”

She nods and straightens her stance. “I’ll see you in court, Mr. Kent. You better be ready for the fight of your life. I’m bringing my big guns.”

I step forward when the elevator doors finally open.

Big guns indeed. Her tits are something else, along with the rest of her.

***

I walk into Grant Gallery expecting to see Piper Ellis.

I don’t.

Instead, I see a cute blonde talking to an older guy. They seem immersed in a discussion about a painting. From my vantage point, it looks like someone threw a few buckets of paint against a canvas and called it a day.

The colors are muted and subtle. If there’s an intentional design to the thing, I can’t see it.

I look to my left at a series of sculptures displayed next to the window that faces the street. Again, I’m the wrong person to be judging the value of the pieces. I walk closer to them and realize that someone thinks they’re worth more than most new cars. The price tags are staggering.

“I’m Bridget Grant.” The blonde is next to me. “Is there something I can help you with?”

I look over her head to where the man is still standing in front of the watercolor painting. “I can wait if you’re busy.”

“He’s considering his options.” She smiles softly. “Is there a particular sculpture that you’re interested in?”

I turn my back to the pieces of art and face her directly, so there’s no misinterpretation. “I’m not here for the sculptures. I’m looking for Piper Ellis.”

She looks over at her customer before she turns her attention back to me. “Piper’s classes begin the week after next. There’s a signup form on our website or I can take care of the registration for you now.”

The older guy starts his approach toward us so I finish up our conversation. “Thanks for your time. I’ll check out the website.”

It’s a lie. Piper may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, but I’m not about to enroll in an art class just to get laid. I’ll find another way to connect with the stunning brunette.