I studied my blue eyes in the compact mirror at my desk. They didn’t look as tired as I felt, thanks to my morning date with the makeup bag. I hated foundation but needed it to cover my sleepless weekend.

Ryan’s unexpected visit, coupled with Sarah’s surprise goodbye visit early Sunday morning, meant I hadn’t rested at all. My ears were acutely tuned to every single noise in my apartment building, causing me to jump at the oddest of sounds.

Like the dinging of the elevator down the hall.

I closed my door when I entered my office, but the damn binging went off every minute as my colleagues arrived. If my assistant hadn’t called me about the last-minute meeting on my calendar this morning, I would have opted to work from home. The vagueness of the invite made me frown.

Urgent Meeting: All Hands on Deck.

Not a useful title, but at least I had a location and a time.

I slipped on my black pumps and grabbed my jacket from the hanger behind the door. Skirt suits were pretty, but I preferred comfort while I worked. Hence my habit of kicking off my shoes and wandering around in stockings. Not exactly work-appropriate attire for a meeting, though.

The conference rooms were located on the top floor with the executive offices, a place I rarely visited. Baker Brown LLP was one of the largest firms in the country with over 1,500 attorneys, and offices all over the world. They only recruited from top-tier law schools—including my alma mater, Northwestern—and had a reputation for being one of the top firms in the United States. Meetings on this floor with fourth-year associates were rare at best.

I stopped by the receptionist’s desk to check in and was met by Janine Lawson. I recognized the petite redhead immediately as Jeff Dower’s assistant. I shook her hand as a cold sensation trickled down my spine. Why is a partner’s assistant greeting me like she knows me?

“This way, please, Miss Dawson,” she murmured.

I wiped my suddenly clammy hands against my black skirt and followed her down a hallway of windows overlooking the Loop. When we arrived at a set of glass doors, my stomach flipped. Janet Bishop, another of the firm’s partners, stood on the other side, chatting with Jeff. Her white suit popped against her ebony skin, and her teeth were equally bright as she flashed us a welcoming smile.

“Are you sure this is the right meeting?” I whispered.

“Yes, Miss Dawson. They’re expecting you.” Janine gestured for me to enter.

Right. Okay. I’d operated on less sleep before. I could handle this. They probably had a brief question about an existing client, and then I’d be sent back to my office to hide. All my cases were up to date or ahead of schedule, and no one had ever complained about my work. No need for concern.

I entered with the calmest demeanor I could muster. It wasn’t every day I met with the most powerful attorneys in the country, but confidence was key.

“Ah, Rachel, thank you for joining us this morning.”

Holy shit. Jeff Dowers knows my name. “Good morning, Mister Dowers. I’m happy to be here.” I think. “Miss Bishop.”

“Good morning,” she replied, shaking my hand. It was firm and exactly what I expected from a woman in her position. “I believe you’ve already met Will Mershano.”

The smile slipped from my face as she motioned to the man sitting at the head of the table. His hands were clasped in front of him as he observed the exchange with an amused expression. I had been so consumed with the partners that I hadn’t noticed the third person in the room, which was a bit of a miracle considering his attire.

Holy cow, the man cleaned up nicely. I’d only ever seen him in jeans and T-shirts, even on the days he visited my office. Those were nice, but this suit . . . Wow. Talk about tailored to perfection. He smoothed his dark tie as he stood and walked around the table to shake my hand. His palm smoldered against mine, a feat considering the warmth radiating across my skin.

“Miss Dawson,” he greeted. “A pleasure as always.”

My mouth opened, closed, and then reopened. What the hell are you doing here? were the words I wanted to say, but, “Mister Mershano,” popped out instead. At least my brain had the wherewithal to remember our audience. I frowned at that last bit.

Hold on . . .

His eyes danced with mirth as he watched my sleep-fogged mind catch up with my surroundings. A meeting on the executive floor with two partners and Will Mershano dressed in a suit . . . Oh no.

“Shall we get started?” he asked before I could comment. His focus had gone to the partners behind me.

“Of course,” Jeff replied.

Will tugged on my hand, reminding me that I had yet to let him go, and flickered his gaze to a seat beside the one he just vacated at the table. A cup of coffee and a doughnut rested in front of it. Given he had his own travel mug next to his leather portfolio, I guessed he had procured the breakfast items for me.

How thoughtful. Or maybe not. Because what the hell was he thinking setting up this meeting?

My feet moved on autopilot to the spot he saved for me, and my hands wrapped around the hot mug. Oh, caffeine, how I love thee. I took a fortifying sip and fought a groan. He had added just the right amount of cream and sugar.

The man’s memory when it came to my preferences astounded me. After I first refused his employment offer, he showed up at my apartment holding a bag of my favorite Chinese cuisine. He only knew about my love of Szechuan chicken because it was what I ordered the first night we met, and yet he remembered. No wonder the man owned a multimillion-dollar winery.

“Thank you again for meeting with me on such short notice,” Will started. “As I mentioned over the phone, Mershano Vineyards is in the market for a firm to advise on some international acquisitions and manage the relations going forward. It’s my understanding that Baker Brown’s corporate and securities practice is one of the best.” He flashed me a grin as he repeated my words from the other night before returning his focus to Jeff and Janet. “So I’m here to learn more.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. That grin, coupled with the way Janet eyed me now, confirmed that Will had told them who he took his advice from on setting up this meeting. Meaning I would be either thanked handsomely after this or sacked, depending on whether or not Will moved forward. But maybe his hiring the firm would be a good thing. They could pair him with a more appropriate lawyer, and he would get his legal advice and then leave me alone.

I expected to smile with the realization, but my mouth curled in the opposite direction. An odd reaction to something I thought I wanted.

Jeff launched into a presentation reviewing Baker Brown’s history and statistics, focusing mostly on the handling of acquisitions and client satisfaction. The spiel had been tailored to Mershano Vineyards since he discussed cross-border deals and industry-specific issues related to Will’s business, like alcohol trade laws. Our marketing team had done an amazing job, and Jeff’s delivery was phenomenal.

“Excellent,” Will said after the last slide. He launched into a set of technical questions that surprised me. Someone had done his homework. This business-savvy side of him was one I had only caught glimpses of during our discussions, but I knew it existed beneath the surface.

Evan was the one the family groomed for the Mershano Suites legacy, while Will went off on his own to create his own empire. And from what I’d seen, the man had done one hell of a job. Of course, he had all the right connections through his last name, not to mention whatever inheritance he received, but still, seeing him in action proved that his determination and intelligence played a big part in his success.

“And if I went with your firm,” he continued, “who would be Mershano Vineyards’s primary point of contact?”

“Likely myself or Janet,” Jeff replied, his fingers lacing together on the table. His expression remained all business, but a hint of excitement shone in his hazel eyes. Will’s name alone made him a huge client, but it was his connections to Evan that really intrigued the Baker Brown partners.

“I see.” Will tapped his chin and looked to me. “I was rather hoping to work with Rachel, given she’s the reason I’m sitting here today.”

My lips parted in shock. What the hell was he thinking? He had to be crazy coming in here and requesting an associate for a project that deserved a partner-level attorney. My experience paled in comparison to the two people sitting opposite us. I met their surprised gazes and fought the urge to cringe. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one astonished by Will’s request.

“That’s certainly something we can discuss, but our associates are not typically assigned as the point of contact; however, they might work on aspects of the project as a team.” Janet’s smooth response was well practiced and far more eloquent than the words rolling around in my mind.

“I can appreciate that, but I’ve seen Rachel in action. Unfortunately, a nondisclosure agreement keeps me from going into the details, although I can say that she impressed not only me but my cousin Evan and our family attorney, Garrett Wilkinson.”

That statement had Jeff breaking his composure and lifting both eyebrows at me. “Which project was this?”

Oh, shit . . . Attorneys helped friends all the time, but seeing as Baker Brown paid my malpractice insurance, they would not appreciate knowing about it. Especially considering who had been on the other side of the table.

I cleared my throat. “It, uh, wasn’t a project, but a favor for a friend. I can’t go into the specifics because of the NDA, but I read through a few things on her behalf. Nothing company related, just a personal agreement.”

Jeff scratched the salt-and-pepper beard lining his jaw. The term silver fox suited him well. “That’s how you two met?” he asked.

“Yes.” No point in elaborating.

More massaging of his chin as he studied me. “Hmm, well, we typically frown upon our associates doing work outside of the firm, even as favors for friends, but considering it brought Will to us, I guess we can let this slide.”

I swallowed. The words “for now” hung in the air. Which meant that if Will went with a different firm, we’d be having a more serious discussion, but if he chose Baker Brown, they’d ignore it.

No pressure.

Will and his fucking mouth were going to cost me my job.

“So what would it take to have her be my primary point of contact?” Will asked, lacing his fingers over his leather binder, completely at ease. “Or at the very least, be my on-site legal representation as needed?”

My jaw threatened to unhinge. This wasn’t the same as asking me to move to North Carolina, but it certainly came close to it. Except I wouldn’t have to live there. Nor would I be working directly for him. Clever bastard. He found a loophole around both of my reasons for turning him down, and he went over my head. If the firm assigned me this project, I would have to accept or commit career suicide.

His high-handedness made me sick to my stomach. This deal would force me into a corner with no way out and place him in a position of power over me. I should have expected this tactic. A man like Will got what he wanted, just like all the other rich men in this world.

You’re nothing but a puppet . . .

I shivered as Ryan’s voice slid through my mind. Not now.

“As I said, typically a partner is the primary contact, but if you prefer to work directly with Miss Dawson, we could assign her as the lead attorney on the project. She would need to work with one of us, at least in terms of advice and general management, but could serve as your lead counsel. And we could arrange for her to be on-site as needed, whether that be in North Carolina or internationally.” Janet looked at me. “We would need to clear your workload and meet off-line to review the details.”

My teeth were clenched too tightly to verbalize a response, so I simply nodded. I could not believe this was happening. Will Mershano was going to win. What a great way to start a business relationship, with me saying no and him forcing me to comply anyway.

This was why I hated wealthy men. They always won in the end and didn’t care who they hurt in the process.

“That sounds amenable to me,” Will murmured. “When your team draws up the formal proposal, I would like those terms included.”

“Of course,” Jeff replied as he switched presentations on his computer to a financial report screen. I tried to listen while he reviewed the proposed hourly rates and general project-resource needs, but a roaring sound had taken over in my head. I’d gotten so caught up in Will’s game of cat and mouse that I never considered he would take it to this level.

You were starting to trust him, my conscience accused. A stupid thing to do considering my history. I just never thought he’d go over my head and force my hand. Yet here we were, sitting in a conference room while my fate was decided for me. Ryan already dictated my personal life, and now Will would own my professional world. Where did that leave me?

By the time our meeting ended, my blood was boiling. I wanted to punch something, preferably the arrogant son of a bitch standing beside me, but my employers would frown upon that. When he reached out to shake my hand, I squeezed a little too hard and gave him a tight smile. I thought a hint of concern deepened his brown eyes, but it was gone in a flash as he focused on Jeff’s inquiry regarding lunch.

“Sure,” he replied.

As they started to discuss lunch location prospects, I politely excused myself. The meeting was only on my calendar until noon, and it was half past that already. I murmured something to Janet about needing to finish a contract by the end of the day—which wasn’t a lie—and she let me go with a pleased grin.

I didn’t bother saying goodbye to our “future client.” He could eat dirt as far as I was concerned. Besides, I’d be seeing more than enough of him over the coming months. If he thought I’d be thankful or cheery about that, then he had another thing coming.

Will Mershano was about to meet a whole new side of me. And he wouldn’t like her one bit.