Page 1 of Not On Your Life

Chapter 1

Maddie

Oh look, the devil is here. I thought it felt warmer.

“Maggie.” Connor Quinn perches on the edge of my desk. His extra-long leg brushes against my arm, and I fight every ounce of annoyance I harbor for the arrogant man. I will not cower first.

“No one’s ever going to hire you to be their lawyer if you can’t remember their name,” I say, eyes firmly planted on the legal document on my screen.

I will not make contact with the devil’s piercing hazel eyes or the thick beard that so perfectly defines his jawline.

I also won’t think about the burning sensation in my arm. It’s hot in hell, after all.

“Aw Mads, always a pleasure.” He nudges my potted plant out of its assigned space, and I push it back where it belongs.

My hand grazes his.

I try not to shudder at his touch. Try not to move at all. When he touches me, he burns me in a way only the devil can. The feeling is hatred, and it’s mutual. We’ve spent the last four years like this—launching insults like grenades over enemy lines. I win some battles, and he, unfortunately, wins others.

Connor leans closer, his body and cologne invading my personal space. “When are you going to let your hair down and have fun?”

One: I like ponytails, they are quick, and I have a great face shape for them. Two: I have fun. But he doesn’t deserve to know any of this.

I inch to the farthest corner of my cubicle and steel myself. “What do you want, Connor?”

He flicks my ponytail, like the immature adolescent he is. “I think we both know what I want.”

“Harassment,” I say loud enough for Jessica, the receptionist, to glance up.

She knows Connor and I can’t stand each other and would, hopefully, take my side. Female empowerment and all that. I catch the end of a wink from Connor to Jessica, and the young woman all but swoons so far to the left I’m surprised she doesn’t fall off her chair.

Feminism apparently carries no weight over a charming grin.

Connor finally removes his butt from my desk. “Someday you’ll change your mind.”

“When hell freezes over.”

He raises a brow. “I believe in climate change.”

“I believe in boundar—”

“Oh good. You’re both here.” Our boss, Mr. Lawrence, approaches my desk.

I spring out of my chair so fast it shoots back, and I stumble into one of Connor’s broad shoulders.

He snorts.

“Yes, sir,” I squeak, straightening my blouse and giving Mr. Lawrence my most confident smile.

Connor and I are at the bottom of the totem pole in this department. Fresh out of law school. Even Jessica has been here longer than us. So we are both eager to prove ourselves. A few paralegals walk by, and I catch one wave slyly at Connor.

Correction.I’mat the bottom of the totem pole. Connor’s getting dragged up the rope by all the single ladies.

“I’ve got an assignment for you both,” Mr. Lawrence says, holding up a Manila envelope.

I swallow hard at the wordboth. I worked with Connor enough before graduating from law school. I never imagined I’d be stuck with him afterward. But then he had to go and apply for the same internship. And to my utter shock and horror, we werebothhired on after graduation last month.

I’ll never understand what I did so wrong to deserve this kind of fate.