chapter 2
“HOW’RE YOU DOING?” JAXON asks as he steps into my office, two cups of coffee in his hands. “Not sure how you take your coffee, so I took a gamble.”
I grin, pushing my chair away from the desk and standing, my hand out, greedy for the heavenly warmth in his hands. “White with two sugars, but any coffee is good coffee right now.”
He chuckles and gives it to me.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “Pretty sure I’m the one who should be bringing you coffee.”
He grins and nods to the pile of paperwork on my desk. “We get our own coffee here. Besides, I think I gave you enough work that you can forgo any other duties. Do you need any help with anything?”
“No, I’m good,” I tell him, taking a sip. “I’m really excited about working on the case, actually. I already have a few good ideas and interview questions.”
“Good,” he says, tilting his head to the side and studying me. “I’m about to head out to the prison to talk to a client. Want to come along? Maybe next time I can let you go in my place.”
My eyes widen, excitement filling me. I’ve never been to the prison before, and I want to experience everything, soak up every opportunity, and learn all I can. Who knew a prison would make me feel giddy? “I’d love to.”
“Jaxon?” a familiar voice calls out from the corridor.
Jaxon stands in the doorframe and sticks his head out. “In here. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” the man says, his voice coming closer until he joins Jaxon just inside my office. “Just wondering if you know where the hell Yvonne is. The phone has been ringing nonstop. . . .”
He looks at me, eyes widening, and trails off. Face etched with shock, he soon masks it, looking almost annoyed. Why is he annoyed at me? I didn’t know he worked here. He’s a lawyer; no wonder he had a rude side. Us lawyers have a bit of a reputation, and unfortunately, the majority of the time the stereotype is true.
“Tristan this is Kat, the new associate we hired. Kat this is Tristan, my partner and another criminal lawyer.”
Fucking great.
He’s another lawyer here.
A partner.
And technically my boss.
I knew Jaxon had another partner, but I never did any research on him, since the position I was interviewing for was with Jaxon directly. This is Lawyering 101; always do your research. Dammit.
Thank God I didn’t have that coffee with him, because things could’ve been much worse.
Play it cool, Kat.
I force a smile and nod. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
He doesn’t look impressed, if the dull expression on his face is anything to go by. So we had a moment, big deal. Would I have been interested in him? Sure. He’s good-looking. Compelling, for some reason. Intriguing. I don’t know what it is, but I was drawn to him in that brief moment we met. But that was before I knew who he was, and now that I do, I can forget about it, put it behind us. I am a professional after all.
“You too, Kat. You’re in good hands here with Jaxon.”
“I know,” I say boldly, making Jaxon laugh.
“We’re just off to visit a client in jail. I don’t know where Yvonne is. Maybe she’s on her break. I’ll put the voice mail on,” Jaxon says, then looks to me. “You ready?”
I nod, grabbing my bag, making sure my notepad and pen are inside, and follow him to the door, brushing past Tristan as I leave. I can’t help but glance at him, our eyes connecting and holding. His give away nothing; they’re empty, lifeless.
Blank.
The man should play poker.
I look away and follow Jaxon.
I mean, it could be a worse first day, right?
I TAKE A BITE of my chicken salad sandwich and reread the document in front of me. We’ve been working for hours, and Jaxon bought us some food to get us through until our meeting.
“Did you notice anything yet?” he asks me, amusement in his tone.
He keeps challenging me, pushing me, but even if I miss something he doesn’t hold it against me, he just shows me. He’s a great teacher.
“I did,” I tell him, feeling proud. I point to the sentence. “The man is clearly lying. In his statement he said that he hadn’t seen the victim, but the records showed he visited the hospital.”
“Good,” he commends. “Those small details are what helps salvage a case sometimes. Every detail matters.” He glances at his watch. “We better leave now, or we’ll be late for our meeting with the prosecutors.”
We head to the meeting, and I watch in awe as Jaxon kicks ass. That prosecutor didn’t know what hit her as soon as he opened his mouth. After our minor victory in getting a piece of evidence suppressed, we return to the office.
“Cool shoes,” Yvonne says as I walk back in.
I glance down at my nude pumps and smile. “Thanks. I wish I could wear heels as high as you do.”
She’s in red stilettos today, and I’m sure if she stepped on someone’s foot they’d have to go to the hospital.
She points to her chair, grinning. “That’s as far as I go, Kat. I can wear these shoes because I hardly move from that chair.”
I laugh as she sits down and waggles her brows at me. “You going to grab some lunch?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m going to grab a juice. Do you want anything?”
I’ve been here three weeks now, and I really like working with Jaxon. While he’s tough, and has high standards, he also treats me as an equal and allows me to find my own footing. You can tell the man has a heart made of gold, even though I get the impression he’s not someone you’d ever want to mess with.
“No, I’m good, sweetie,” Yvonne says, apologizing as the phone starts ringing and she moves to answer it. I wave at her and then head outside. It’s cold, and I pull my beige suede jacket around me tightly. I turn left and almost bump right into Tristan. We’ve been avoiding each other ever since that day we met on the street. It’s just a little awkward, even though I guess it doesn’t have to be. We both have busy schedules, his more so than mine, so it’s been fairly easy to get through my day without having to see him for more than a brief passing moment, unless he comes into Jaxon’s office to chat with him and I just happen to be in there. I’ve noticed the two of them are friends and check in with each other at least once a day. If I’m honest with myself, I’m avoiding him for a reason. When I’m around him I don’t like the way my pulse starts to race a little, and the way my gaze is drawn directly to those eyes of his. . . . There’s a weird tension between us, and it’s simply easier to avoid that than to question why it’s there.
“Sorry,” I say to him, and step aside, my arm accidentally brushing the material of his gray suit. I touch my arm where the material did, and stop as his direct gaze pins me in my place. Did I see a flash of heat in there? Lust?
He studies me for a few quick seconds, then murmurs, “You have ink on your mouth,” before heading back inside the office without a backward glance.
I pull my compact mirror out of my bag as I head toward the juice bar and have a look. Ugh, he’s right. There’s blue ink smudged all over my bottom lip, which must be from me biting my pen while I was working on a brief earlier.
Goddammit.
I cover my face with my hands and groan.
Why can’t Tristan and I ever have a normal interaction? It’s always tense, awkward, or embarrassing.
By the time I get to the juice bar, my mind is a mess. I order a green smoothie and, as I wait, rub my lips with my finger. Those are the words he had to say to me? I hope I catch him with his shirt on backward or something next time. Smoothie in hand, I head back to the office and sit at my desk, putting my earphones in as I read the report Jaxon wanted me to look over for him. Ed Sheeran’s soothing voice hits my ears, and between that and concentrating on the papers in front of me, I don’t notice anyone entering my office until Tristan is standing right in front of me. I glance up at him and pull one of my earphones out.
“Jaxon just called,” he says to me, frowning. “You weren’t picking up your phone.”
I glance to my phone next to me, seeing three missed calls. “Shit, I forgot to take it off silent. Is everything okay?”
“He’s running late and wants you to start the interview with his next client,” Tristan says, pursing his lips and handing me a file.
“No problem,” I say, taking it from him. Our thumbs accidentally touch in the handover, and when I hastily pull my hand away, the file falls onto the table, papers scattering. I quickly pick them up but keep my head down, silently cursing myself. When I straighten, file in hand, Tristan is still standing there watching me.
“Is there anything else?” I ask, keeping my tone even when all I want to do is snap at him.
He bends and picks up one piece of paper I’d missed because it’d fallen on the floor, and hands it to me.
“Don’t mess this up” is all he says, and he glances at his watch. “They’re already waiting in his office, and you’re now officially late. I don’t know why Jaxon has so much faith in you.”
“Lucky I’m working with him then,” I say to him.
And late?
By what, thirty seconds?
I glance at the clock on the wall, and yes, I’m about one minute late, but only because he won’t leave my office.
I walk around him and exit without saying another word.
The man is infuriating. No wonder my friend from law school, Callie, said he has a reputation for making associates and interns cry, and hardly anything intimidates Callie. At the time, I didn’t understand why she didn’t apply for this position, but now it makes perfect sense. He’s tough in the beat-you-down-and-tell-you-when-you-are-messing-up way. He’s clearly not a compassionate, approachable man. He’s good at what he does, yes. He has a reputation just as good as Jaxon’s, but he’s . . . I don’t know.
Meaner.
Less empathetic.
Always brooding.
I rush to Jaxon’s office, opening the door and smiling at the man sitting down. He stands as soon as I approach him.
“Hello, Mr. Davensworth. I’m Kat, and I’ll be stepping in for Mr. Bentley this afternoon and helping him with your case,” I say, shaking his hand. He grips my hand, then lets it go and nods once. He’s good-looking, in a rough kind of way. Brown eyes, and a mop of dark hair that he’s hidden beneath a black cap. He sits back down only when I do. A gentleman.
I open his file—the papers upside down. I silently curse Tristan, turn them the right way around, and then glance up. “So it says here you and Mr. Bentley spoke on the phone regarding allegations made by your old workplace, is this correct?”
“Yes,” he replies, tone emotionless. “They’ve accused me of stealing money from the company.”
“Why don’t we start from the beginning. Can you tell me about everything that has happened so far?” I ask him.
He starts telling me everything, from start to end, and I write it all down for Jaxon. I also take initiative to write down any notes or ideas I have for the case, things I need to look into and research.
“Thank you for explaining all of that,” I tell him, placing my pen down.
“Do you think I have a chance of proving that I’m innocent?” he asks, and it’s the first time he’d admitted that he didn’t do it.
I’m about to reply when Jaxon walks in, saving me.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says to the both of us. I stand from his seat and gesture for him to take it.
“Do you need me to do anything else, Mr. Bentley?” I ask him.
“No, I’ve got it from here, Kat,” he tells me, his eyes thanking me for covering for him.
I nod and quickly exit the room, closing the door softly behind me. I head to Yvonne’s desk to see what she’s up to before I get back to work, only to see her having a chat with Tristan.
He’s suddenly everywhere.
“Your client canceled,” Yvonne tells him, tapping her long red nails on the desk. “And the rest of your day is free.”
“So I get to go home and actually spend some time with my kids?” he asks her, brow rising.
Yvonne smiles and nods. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Oh, I will,” Tristan says, smiling at her and then leaving.
He has kids?
And even more surprising, he smiles like that?
With his eyes?
Maybe there’s more to him than I think.