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“Speaking of Logan,” Audrey says, aiming for nonchalantand missing by miles, “I thought he might join you tonight.”
Bennett and Caleb exchange a look that doesn't go unnoticed by anyone at the table.
“Logan doesn't do social gatherings unless specifically court-ordered,” Caleb explains. “And even then, we usually have to promise him new hardware to get him vertical.”
“Or threaten to revoke his server access,” Bennett adds.
Audrey nods, looking disappointed but trying to hide it. Serena, never one to let awkwardness linger, jumps in.
“So, Caleb,” she says, turning to face him fully, “when you're not destroying companies and negotiating people's livelihoods, what do you do for fun?”
I wince at her directness, but Caleb simply takes another sip of his scotch, looking amused rather than offended.
“What makes you assume I don't find crushing opposing counsel recreational?”
“Touché,” Serena concedes with a laugh. “But there must be something else. Running? Sailing? Alphabetizing your legal briefs by date of precedent?”
“I run,” he acknowledges. “And I collect first edition law texts.”
“Of course you do,” Serena says, leaning forward. “Let me guess—Blackstone's Commentaries and dusty volumes that smell like library basements and broken dreams?”
“Actually,” Caleb counters, his voice taking on an unexpected warmth, “my prize possession is a first edition of Myra Bradwell's legal briefs. The woman who fought the Supreme Court for a woman's right to practice law. I find pioneering spirits... compelling.”
“Interesting,” Serena says, clearly surprised. “I wouldn't have pegged you as a champion of women's rights, Counselor.”
“I'm not one for 'pegging,' Ms. Morgan,” he replies, holding her gaze a beat longer than necessary.
Oh my God, did Caleb Kingsley just make a sex joke? At Serena? This is either going to end in murder or matrimony.
Audrey chokes violently on her Moscow mule, liquid spraying across the table as she coughs and sputters. I quickly hand her napkins while Bennett presses his lips together, clearly fighting laughter.
Serena doesn't miss a beat, her smirk deepening as she leans toward Caleb. “That makes sense. Being a lawyer, you'd be more prone to fuckingeveryone elseup the ass.”
Audrey's coughing intensifies, and she nearly falls out of her chair, eyes watering as she stares at Serena in absolute horror.
“Jesus, Serena!” I half-exclaim, half-laugh, as Bennett finally gives up and chuckles beside me, his shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.
“What? He started it!” Serena exclaims, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
“I swear I am not always this ungraceful,” Audrey insists, still catching her breath, her cheeks crimson. “But did you hear what she just said?” She points an accusatory finger at Serena.
“I did,” Caleb replies, his lips quirking into something dangerously close to a grin. “And I find myself oddly impressed by your friend's... directness.”
“I impress myself too,” Serena says, lifting her glass in a mock toast as laughter erupts around the table.
“I feel like I should apologize for what's happening here,” I murmur to Bennett.
He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear, making me shiver. “Don't. Caleb needs to be challenged more often. It's good for his cardiovascular health.”
I glance at the two of them—Serena and Caleb now engaged in what appears to be a verbal chess match about corporate ethics, with Audrey occasionally interjecting to correct a technical point. There's undeniable energy between them, a clash of personalities that creates actual sparks.
Bennett checks his watch, and I notice the subtle movement draws my attention to his hands. Those capable, elegant fingers that know exactly how to?—
“Our table's waiting,” he says, interrupting my increasingly inappropriate thoughts, “but if you'd rather stay...”
The offer surprises me. Bennett Mercer, voluntarily disrupting his precisely planned evening? For me?
“That's... very considerate,” I finally manage. “But I've been looking forward to dinner with you all day.”