Friction

EPILOGUE

LEARY

One Month Later

“Okay, everyone . . . simmer down,” Da

The chatter and laughter that had filled the room to buzzing just moments earlier starts to wane until there’s total silence. I glance around, looking at all of the faces staring up at Da

My soapbox never looked taller or shinier in my life, and I love it.

“Midge asked me to gather everyone today before we let you out for the Christmas holidays and make an official a

Da

Nothing happens.

He claps twice again and leans forward to peer hard at the doorknob, but again . . . no movement.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Da

“You missed my cue,” Da

Except it’s not just one waiter. Five of them walk in, two bearing bottles of champagne and the rest with fluted glasses. They efficiently walk around the room, popping bottles and pouring glasses of bubbly until everyone has one in hand.

Taking his place at the head of the table again, Da

“As I said, today is a big day,” Da

I immediately tune Da

This was something she divulged to me when she called me into her office a few weeks ago and offered me the partnership. It wasn’t something that was taken lightly. It meant that I had to buy in, to invest in the business. It meant more responsibility. It made me responsible for the debt in equal shares to the other partners. It meant longer hours, tougher cases, and more travel.

I didn’t need to think about it, but so as not to appear too excited, I gave her my answer the next day.

Swiveling my head to the right, I look at Reeve sitting next to me. He’s watching Da

I wonder what he’s thinking.

I bet he’s thinking of that unbelievably awesome blow job I gave him this morning before we got out of bed. Tilting back in my chair, I pull in my chin and tilt my head, trying to get a good look at Reeve’s crotch, which is partially hidden by the edge of the table. I can’t tell if he’s got a hard-on or not, so no telling what he’s thinking.

My gaze swivels back to his face and I find his eyes directly on me. One corner of his mouth is tilted up in a “caught ya” grin, with a cocked eyebrow to mock my audacity. I give him a sheepish smile back and reach over to stroke his forearm before dropping my hand.

Reeve started at Knight & Payne the week after we got back from New York.

That was the big favor I asked of Midge.

I asked her to make room for him in our civil division—not because he’s my boyfriend but because he’s a phenomenal trial attorney with a heart of gold. He proved over and over again by the way he treated Je

She said, and I quote, “I like the way you think, Reeve. I like that you push boundaries. The job is yours if you want it.”

And just like that, Reeve was not only my lover but my work associate as well.

As an associate attorney, Reeve didn’t rate an office. So he was out in the Pit. Tragically, his desk was all the way across the Pit, so it was hard to see him. This actually could be considered a good thing, I suppose, because I’m sure that if he were closer to me, it would be difficult to get any work done. Regardless, we’ve made use of the smoke walls in my office on at least two occasions when we wanted a little hanky-panky during the middle of the day.

“. . . and in conclusion, let’s all raise our glasses and toast Leary for an amazing career here so far, and for many more years of her brilliance to come in and out of the courtroom.”

I blink, hastily pick up my glass, and raise it. Shouts of “Here, here” and “To Leary” echo across the room. Ford is sitting opposite me, and he leans across the table and I do the same so we can clink our glasses together. When I sink back into my chair, Reeve leans over and kisses my cheek. “Congrats, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

Turning my face, I let my lips find his, and in an uncharacteristic display of wanton public affection, I give him a deep kiss that causes a tiny rumble to tear loose from his chest. When I pull back, I say, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

“Okay, everyone, gulp that bubbly down and get back to work!” Da

Thank God!

Everyone stands to leave. It’s the Friday before Christmas break starts and almost 5:30 p.m. I still have a ton of stuff to do before I leave, though, so I let my mind start churning through my to-do list.

I round the table with Reeve behind me. Ford is waiting for us, buttoning his suit jacket.

“Hey,” he says genially. “Have y’all met the new associate attorney? Cary Peterson’s daughter?”

“Her name’s Emma,” I mutter, and then add as a warning, “and try to keep it in your pants around her, Ford. She’s just a baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” Ford grumbles. “Besides, I like my women a little more experienced. I read a survey once that said a woman doesn’t know how to give good head until she reaches her late twenties. Think that’s true?”