CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Lori
Since there is no way around a confrontation with my ex, I just go toward it, and silently step away from Cole. Quickly walking toward my newly minted problem, with my ex watching my every step, Cat greets my arrival excitedly. “I had no idea you knew Lance,” Cat says. “He just told me you go way back.”
“We do,” I say, my voice as cold as he makes me feel. “Lance,” I greet, meeting his green eyes to ensure that he knows that I am not pleased to see him. In fact, aside from the early few months with him, when his New York Times bestseller status and knowledge of the law had enchanted me, I don’t remember many times I was pleased to see him.
“Glad to find you back in the saddle,” he says, and for a smart man, with intelligence brimming from his green eyes, he’s too stupid to know how stupid those words are. “I thought you might just quit.”
“Why are you here?” I ask, my tone bitingly non-cordial.
Cat chokes on her champagne. “I’ve never known Lori to quit anything.” She looks between us. “Oh wow. You two know each other as in know each other, right?”
“Unfortunately,” I say, glancing at her. “Yes.” And at the same moment that I say again, “Why are you here, Lance?” Cole steps to my side.
“Apparently, I’ve missed something interesting,” Cole says dryly, looking at Lance. “Who are you and why should I care?”
It’s a hard and rude address, and the unshakable Lance Woodman all but physically jolts with the impact. The way I’d jolted when, among other things, he’d called me not just a fool, but a stupid fool, for quitting school. “I’m a guest of Cat’s,” Lance replies.
“He’s a fellow attorney and author who wants to collaborate and I thought we could talk here,” Cat offers. “I didn’t know he and Lori knew each other until now.”
“You might have read a few of my books,” Lance suggests, listing off a few titles, and offering his hand to Cole. “Lance Woodman.”
Cole ignores his hand. “How do you know Lori?”
“We’re old friends,” he says, lowering his hand and glancing at me. “Can we talk?”
“I’m working,” I say, aware of the crackle of sharp energy spiking off Cole.
“Come with me, Lori,” Cole orders, and I happily accept the command.
He steps back and I join him and we start walking. “He’s the ex you told me about the night we met. The older man you were infatuated with?”
“Yes,” I say, “but I wasn’t infatuated.”
He stops by a vacant standing table and we turn to face each other. “You said that you were infatuated by him.”
It’s at that moment that a man in his mid-forties, with dark hair speckled with gray, joins us and we turn to face him. “Cole Brooks,” he says. “I’m Nash Burns.”
“As in the expert pathologist who keeps turning me down?” Cole asks.
He laughs. “Not by choice. To this point, you’ve asked for my time when I’m booked solid.” He eyes me. “Is this your lovely wife?”
I feel my heart sink to my feet. Cole and I haven’t touched but we’ve been in deep conversation and often. We have chemistry. We’re obvious, as Cat said. I mean, my God, we were just standing at this table alone, in deep, intimate conversation.
“This would be Ms. Lori Havens,” Cole replies, “a rising star in the legal field you’ll want to know and know well. A recipient of the Merrick scholarship, I’m mentoring her, and she’ll be working on my upcoming cases with me.”
Nash holds up his hands. “Apologies, Ms. Havens,” he says. “I assumed for all the wrong reasons. Perhaps, simply because you’re lovely and I thought him a lucky man to have you by his side all night. Please don’t hesitate to call me should you need my services.” He offers me his card and quickly departs.
“Do not read into that,” Cole says, facing me now, his voice low. “No one else in this room has seen beyond our working relationship.”
“Or they didn’t say it, and he did,” I say. “I need a minute to breathe,” I say, and start walking, weaving through the crowd until I’m standing at the coffee pots filling a cup. I don’t really want it. I just need to do something that gives me a moment alone to think. I’m with Cole. We can’t stay away from each other. I work here. These are the pieces of a puzzle I must fit together in a cohesive way, and I don’t know how.
Cole steps to my side. “Come with me,” he says again.
I set the cup down and turn to face him. “I don’t think it’s smart for us to walk out alone together.”
“That wasn’t a question, Lori,” he says, his voice tight, with an undertone of unmistakable anger. “This is me, your boss, telling you to come with me now.”
“We can’t walk out of this room alone together,” I repeat.
He narrows his eyes on me, his voice hardening, the whip of anger in his energy. “We can, and we will, because a) we have a client in need that comes before this party, and b) I’m your boss and that was a work directive, not a request. I’m going to take care of my client. You need to decide if my client is your client.” He turns and starts walking, expecting me to follow, or maybe he doesn’t.
I quickly step to his side, but I don’t speak. I was wrong in my reaction just now. I let personal feelings dictate my response, not business, and I could blame Lance’s appearance, but any excuse is unacceptable. I need to say that to him when we’re alone. “What are we doing?” I ask.
“Our jobs,” he says, motioning to Reese, who meets us at the door. “I have a high-profile client with law enforcement breathing down her throat. I’m going to my office to deal with it.”
“We’re winding down anyway,” Reese says. “I can handle this here. Let me know if you need me.”
Cole nods and opens the door, allowing me to exit first, and it’s only moments later that we step inside the elevator, where he punches the call button, but he doesn’t reach for me. He doesn’t look at me. He’s angry. I let the personal side of things affect my job. He said he would not be easy on me. I don’t want him to be easy on me. The doors shut and he sends a text message and by the time he’s done, we’re two floors up. The doors once again part and I step outside.
Still Cole doesn’t speak. We enter the main offices, and he flips on the lights. “My office,” he says, and that’s all. We walk together, side-by-side, and the silence continues. Finally, we are at his office, though I’m not even sure why this is a relief. It just is. He opens the door, flips on that light, and gives me room to enter. And I really don’t know what to expect next.
I step inside.
“Shut the door,” he orders, following me into the room, and crossing to his desk.
This time I do as I’m told without question. I shut the door and when I turn around, Cole is still standing, his fists pressed to the desk, clearly waiting on me. I cross the room, him watching my every step with those penetrating, unreadable blue eyes. I could sit, but I choose to stop between the two visitor’s chairs directly in front of him. And now, I’m waiting on him. Now, it’s his move.