chapter 7
POWER HAS A SOUND.
And to me, that sound is the click of heels on the tiles as I step into the office each morning.
Click, click, click.
I smile to myself as I sit down behind my desk and open my laptop, ready to start the day.
“You’re in early,” Tristan says, walking in wearing a blue suit that matches his eyes.
“So are you,” I point out, glancing at the clock, which reads 7:00 a.m.
He grins as he sits down. “Anne is back, so I didn’t have to drop the kids off this morning, so I’m back to my usual routine, and that includes being here early to get a head start on everything.”
“I’m glad she’s feeling better,” I tell him. It’ll make things easier on him, and hopefully less stressful. “Is there anything in particular you want me to get done for you today?”
“Actually, I’m going to the prison to talk to one of my clients and was wondering if you wanted to tag along?” he asks, nodding to my work pile on my desk. “Or you can stay here. Your call.”
“I get options now?” I ask, ribbing him a little. “You must be in a good mood today.”
Maybe he got laid.
I grit my teeth as the thought enters my mind. I don’t know why, but I don’t seem to like that thought. There’s clearly something wrong with me. He’s my boss, he’s got several years on me, and he doesn’t see me like that at all. Not to mention the fact that it’s a conflict of interest. I need to bury these thoughts right now and never revisit them.
He’s my boss; that’s all.
“Take it or leave it, Kat” is his reply, amusement dancing in his eyes. A lock of his brown hair has fallen on his forehead, and I want to reach out and push it away.
“I’ll take it,” I tell him with a grin. “I think the prison visits are really interesting. What time are you leaving?”
“Probably in about two hours,” he says, glancing at his watch. “I’ll give you a bit of warning before we have to leave.”
“Perfect,” I say, standing up. “I’m going to get us some coffee.”
He smirks but says nothing. I don’t know what he finds so amusing. I’m not rude, of course I’ll get him one if I’m going there anyway. I ask Yvonne and Hunter if they want anything, writing down their orders before heading out. The sunshine hits my face as soon as I step out, and I smile. It’s crazy how things can go from bad to good in such a short time, or vice versa. My phone beeps with a message from my friend Callie, but I ignore it and make a mental note to respond when I get back to the office. I wait in line and place my order. A cute barista serves me, and when he smiles at me, I wonder why I can’t be attracted to someone like him.
Someone easy, simple.
Someone not Tristan.
Why does he have to be so good-looking though? The world is filled with good-looking men, so why does he stand out to me? I didn’t even like him when I first met him. Wait, do I even like him now?
Shit.
Perhaps the bastard is growing on me.
Armed with four coffees I return to the office and hand them out.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Yvonne says, applying lip gloss and pressing her lips together. “I’m going to need this today.”
“Busy day ahead?” I ask her, wondering if maybe we all have a lot going on today.
She ducks her head and murmurs, “Nope. I’m just a tad hungover.”
I laugh as I head to Hunter’s office to drop his off. I don’t know who hired Yvonne, or how she keeps her job, but she’s absolutely hilarious.
“Delivery,” I say with a grin after I knock on his door.
“Thanks, Kat,” he says, lifting his cup out of my tray and bringing it straight to his lips. “Just what I need to survive my first client.”
I smirk at his bluntness. “A bit difficult, is she?”
“Just a bit,” he groans, placing the drink on his table. “She wants pretty much everything her ex-husband has, and I keep telling her it doesn’t exactly work like that just because he cheated.”
“Maybe if it did, less people would cheat,” I think out loud.
Hunter grins and flashes me an amused look. “Good thing you aren’t in family law then, hey, Kat?”
“Yeah, I’d probably never want to get married,” I joke. “Anyway I better give this to Tristan and get some work done. Good luck.”
“Going to need it,” he says, rolling his sleeves up, exposing his tatted arms. I glance at them, a little mesmerized, before leaving in search of Tristan.
“Coffee delivery, boss,” I say, placing his on his desk, in front of him.
“Thanks, Kat,” he says, bringing the cup closer to him. “Jaxon called in today to check on you. I told him not to worry, you haven’t run off scared just yet.”
“He was probably worried you’d make me cry,” I say, arching a brow. “Yeah, I’ve been hearing a few things.”
“All exaggerated, I’m sure” is his swift reply. I don’t miss the twitch of his lip. He’s amused by his reputation? He takes a sip of the coffee and then studies me. “If you can’t work under pressure, then this might not be the right career for you. Some people have it, and some don’t.”
“And do I?” I ask him, curious.
“I think you know the answer to that one,” he murmurs, gaze going to his laptop screen. “You have the drive. You’re a hard worker and a quick thinker. I think you’ll do fine. Like you said, you haven’t caved under the pressure yet. No tears. And you didn’t bail when I was making you do other things I know you didn’t want to be doing.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” I admit, then narrow my gaze. “Wait a minute, why did you make me do them? Were you testing me?”
Amusement passes over his gaze. “I wanted to see if you had what it takes.”
I grit my teeth and shake my head. “I bet you enjoyed every second of it too.”
He doesn’t reply, just chuckles in response. Yeah, he enjoyed it all right.
“This is where I want to be. I want to be the best, and I’ll only become that by learning from the best,” I tell him. “And to be honest, I actually had fun with your kids. So the joke is on you.”
Although I won’t admit this to him, I actually do miss Logan and Laura. I wonder if he ever brings them to the office, because I’d like to see their little faces. Logan’s happy one, and Laura’s consistently unimpressed one. I retreat from his office and sit back down at my desk, pulling out the Davensworth case.
I want to win this case for Tristan, and I’m not going to let him down.
WE EXIT THE PRISON, walking side by side until we reach his car.
“So what do you think?” he asks me.
I’m not sure what to say. His client is a scary-looking man, and if I’d had to meet with him by myself, I don’t think I’d have been very comfortable. He also couldn’t stop looking at me. I get that he’s in prison and doesn’t see many women, but I’m here to help try to get him out of there, and his gawking at me until I felt uncomfortable wasn’t helping. I hid my reaction well, I think, and I kept it professional, ignoring him and listening to the questions Tristan asked and the way he interacted with him.
“I wouldn’t have liked going in there to meet him alone,” I admit. “But I think I could do it if I had to.”
“You did well,” he commends, opening the passenger door for me. “You didn’t look away, didn’t show any weakness. He’s harmless; he’s just obviously not used to being around a beautiful woman such as yourself.”
He thinks I’m beautiful?
I use my newly acquired skills to keep my expression blank when all I really want to do is blush and beam. I’ve been told that I’m pretty a lot in my life, with my dark hair and eyes and petite build, but that doesn’t mean that I’m everyone’s cup of tea. And it doesn’t mean I’d assume a man would find me attractive. I like that he does though, probably a little too much. I close the car door and wait for him to slide in on his side.
When he gets in, he glances over at me and says, “Are you hungry? We can get some lunch before we head back, if you like.”
“That sounds good,” I tell him, especially since I skipped breakfast this morning.
“What are you in the mood for?” he asks me as he turns on the radio. “Dive” by Ed Sheeran plays, and I turn to look out the window as I answer him.
“I’m easy,” I tell him, wincing as the words fall from my lips. “I mean, I’m not fussy. Any place is fine.”
“What’s with women not being able to choose places to eat?” he asks, making my head snap back to him to glare at his profile.
“Clearly men can’t decide either, if they have to keep asking us instead of just suggesting a place,” I reply, pursing my lips. “Maybe we just don’t want to be difficult. What if I suggest a place across town, are you still going to take me there? Are you going to complain about it?”
He surprises me by laughing. “Fine, I’ll choose the place today, and next time it’s your pick. Deal?”
“Deal,” I tell him, then add in a lower tone, “As long as it’s vegetarian.”
He turns to look at me, brow furrowing. “You’re a vegetarian and you failed to mention that?”
I want to laugh at the incredulous expression on his face.
“Nah, I’m not,” I tell him, smirking. “ I’m just messing with you.”
He shakes his head at me. “Steak for lunch it is.”
I grin.
I love a good steak.