It was just a typical Monday.
Until the big boss asked me to make the pitch for a prospective new client.
After two years on shaky ground at work because of my screw up, an opportunity to impress the senior partners was just what I needed.
Or so I thought…
Until I walked into the conference room and collided with the man I was supposed to pitch.
My coffee spilled, my files tumbled to the ground, and I almost lost my balance.
And that was the good part of my day.
Because the gorgeous man crouched down and looking at me like he wanted to eat me alive, was none other than my ex, Gray Westbrook.
A man who I’d only just begun to move on from.
A man who my heart despised—yet my body obviously still had other ideas about.
A man who was as charismatic and confident as he was sexy.
Somehow, I managed to make it through my presentation ignoring his intense stare.
Although it was impossible to ignore all the dirty things he whispered into my ear right after I was done.
But there was no way I was giving him another chance, especially now that he was a client…was there?
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“May I get you something to drink while you wait for the rest of your party?” the waiter asked.
I would normally wait to see what the client did and follow his lead on alcohol. But tonight was not the norm.
I rubbed at my stiff neck. “I’ll take a vodka cranberry, please.”
I hoped it would help calm my nerves and release some of the tension in my jaw before I gave myself a full-blown headache. Taking out my phone, I started to scroll through emails to distract myself while waiting for my drink and dinner companion.
My head whipped up at the sound of Gray’s voice behind me. “Sorry I’m late.”
My heart unexpectedly fluttered, and I fought against the feeling of excitement. “Are you really? Because I get the sense you don’t have any manners after the way you interrupted me a million times today.”
He completely ignored my attitude as he took the seat across from me. “Traffic is a bitch getting downtown at this time. Next time we’ll have dinner at my place.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
Gray’s mouth curved into a smug smile as he snagged my gaze. “Sure there will. There’ll be plenty of next times. And eventually you’ll stop pretending you don’t enjoy my company.”
I hated that my body reacted to him. Right from the very start, we’d had a crazy chemistry between us that was difficult to dull.
I sighed. “What are you doing, Gray? Why did you come to my firm?”
He lifted the cloth napkin in front of him and laid it across his lap. “Isn’t that obvious? I need new legal representation.”
“At my firm? And you’d prefer that representation come from an associate instead of my boss’s boss—the head of our securities division? Or even from Pittman, who would gladly hold your hand and provide you whatever legal advice you need from his fifty-plus years of experience?”
“Loyalty is important to me. I want someone I can trust with my business.”
“And you’ve decided that’s me? An associate with five years experience who just got off probation with the Bar Association for violating attorney-client privilege?”
The waiter arrived with my drink. “Here you go, ma’am.” He turned to Gray. “May I get you something to drink? Or would you like to wait until the last of your party joins you this evening?”
“It’s just the two of us. I’ll have a Macallan, neat, please.”
“Coming right up.” The waiter walked around to the other side of the table and started to remove the third place setting.
I put my hand out, stopping him. “We actually do have another party coming, so you can leave that.”
“Very well.” He nodded.
Gray waited until the waiter was out of earshot. “I didn’t invite anyone else to dinner.”
I sipped my drink and offered a saccharine-sweet fake smile. “I did. Figured an important client like you should have more than one attorney to answer his questions.”
Just as I set down my glass, I saw the other man I was waiting for enter the restaurant. He scanned the room, looking for me, so I held up my hand and waved.
“Perfect timing. There’s Oliver now.”
Gray glanced at the man heading toward us and back to me. Instead of being pissed off, the jerk was amused. “That’s cute. You invited a chaperone because you don’t trust yourself with me.”
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. With more than a million books sold, her titles have appeared in over fifty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in fourteen languages. She lives in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.