Page 2

TWO

Kinsley

“Poor girl. She’s only been on the top floor for three days, and it already looks like her soul has withered away and died.” Brianna’s eyes dart around the lunchroom as she leans toward me, hanging her index fingers from her top lip like they’re fangs. “I’m pretty sure the three of them are emotional vampires.”

I barely suppress an eyeroll, but I do catch a glimpse of Margo, the Billing and Finance manager, as she walks by, nodding her head so hard she might give herself whiplash, and mouths, they really are .

Brianna hisses like she’s fucking Dracula himself. Margo laughs and hisses back before they both descend into giggles.

I’m wondering where the fuck I’m working, but a quick tally of all the custom-tailored power suits and gigantic egos confirms that I am indeed still at Ellis, Ellis, and Wallace. We’re not the largest family law firm in Nashville, but the percentage of guys with big dick energy exuding from their pores seems obscene.

And I bet with most of these guys, the only thing that’s impressive is their own hubris. Certainly not their downstairs captain. They’re probably below average. Unimpressive. Too short for this ride.

I raise a brow, my gaze trailing from Margo back to Brianna. “I don’t think that means what you think it does. And I feel like I should point out that vampires aren’t real.”

Despite Margo’s agreement to the contrary.

Brianna scoffs, unwrapping her sandwich with gusto, her pink pointed nails digging into what looks like a turkey sandwich as she takes a healthy bite. “Not literal vampires, Kins. Oh, but you’re right. They’re more like the Dementors in Harry Potter.”

“Oh? They float in the air and wear billowy capes?”

“Exactly.” She points a pickle spear at me. Rather aggressively, I might add, as I swipe some of its juice from my forehead. “And when they get close enough…” Brianna glances behind her before leaning my way again. “Bam. Your soul and entire personality will be gone. You’ll be a shell of your former self. A husk, if you will. If you don’t believe me, look at the new girl. She’s already crying into her bag of chips.”

“Fuck me,” I mutter to myself with a laugh. Sure as shit, the blonde she pointed out is quietly crying at a table by herself, shoving handfuls of chips in her mouth, one right after the other. I don’t judge; I can’t. I got dumped over my morning coffee by a man who compared me to a wooden board. At least I’m holding myself together. Barely, but still. “How did I ever get so lucky to get you as a desk mate?”

She shrugs, that pickle stabbing back at me. “You must have some good karma stashed somewhere. Seriously. The other open desk was with Ruth.”

We both shiver, glancing quickly at the person in question sitting alone at a small square table in the corner.

The woman is a dinosaur.

I’m pretty sure she started working with lawyers back when they wore white powdered wigs and drafted contracts on parchment. It wouldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t completely terrible.

“That woman wouldn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus and then run me over a few times for good measure.” I take out my pathetic salad, eyeballing the cookies at the front of the room. Their numbers are dwindling with every passing second, the chocolate chunks practically calling out to me.

I got dumped today, and I need—no, I deserve—chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

The guys in charge may have the personalities of a Dementor, but they sure aren’t stingy. The lunchroom is always stocked with snacks, drinks, and plenty of coffee. Normally, I’d stare at them longingly, but today I can’t resist.

I do plenty of yoga. I can always squeeze in an extra session this weekend if things get out of hand.

I’m across the room in seconds and since I’ve already decided on doing extra yoga, I snag two of the chocolate chunk cookies from the treat basket, but nearly drop them as a very masculine hand swoops in to grab the last one.

“Shit. Sorry. You scared me.” I clutch the cookies to my chest, trying to stifle my rapidly beating heart, then turn to face my fellow snack connoisseur and?—

Holy, fuck

This guy is hot. Like stupidly gorgeous.

I bet he delivers orgasms with a singular wink. Hell, I might be having one right now.

There’s a good chance I’ve spontaneously ovulated. Could I be pregnant?

This man could have any woman in this place. In fact, as he raises his brows at me, I’m ready to drop to my knees right next to his overpriced leather loafers.

But I won’t. Nope. I can’t.

Not that I have a boyfriend to worry about anymore, but there’s no way a guy as sexy as this would want some inexperienced twenty-three-year-old virgin. He’s so out of my league we may as well be on separate planets.

This man exudes money and confidence. Power. Raw masculinity.

He’s fucking perfect. Every inch of him. Everything from his expertly tousled dark blond hair, his intoxicating amber eyes, the angular lines of his jaw, and the muscular body I’m sure is underneath his Tom Ford, custom-tailored suit.

And then there’s me—stiff as a board. Literally.

A throat clears at some point during my very innocent perusal, and I’m embarrassed to say it took me several beats to realize it was him. You know, because I was blatantly eye fucking him like a shameless hussy. What is wrong with me?

I shouldn’t be having any of these inappropriate thoughts running rampant in my brain. I got dumped this morning, for fuck’s sake. This guy, no matter how attractive he is, screams player. He’s dangerous. Charming. Not for me.

“Sorry, these are my favorite. Didn’t mean to startle you, Miss…?” His voice—a voice that’s smooth like honey and already has my skin breaking out in goosebumps—trails off, and he tilts his head, assessing me.

“Miss Rhodes, legal secretary. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” I clear my throat, straighten my shoulders, and force my eyes to stay on his face.

With a quick laugh, he adjusts his tie, a vibrant purple which nicely offsets his gray suit. “That explains why I haven’t caught you double fisting the chocolate chunks before.”

I shrug, gesturing to his…everything.”I doubt our paths will cross much. I’m up on the nineteenth floor with the junior associates and paralegals.”

He smirks, his eyes gleaming. “And I don’t look like a junior associate?”

“Not exactly.”

“You don’t go to the upper floors?”

“What? Me? Never.” My voice comes out all high pitched, and I’m not sure what’s happening to me. And now I’m laughing, and it sounds like a cross between a hyena and a mongoose. What am I doing? “I like to keep my soul intact, thank you.” His eyes harden, and his entire body stiffens. Apparently, I’m digging myself a nice deep hole to sit in. “Shit. Sorry. Not that I’m implying you don’t have a soul. It’s just the senior partners on the twenty-first. I’ve heard they’re quite scary and possibly Dementors. Or emotional vampires. I guess that’s why they specialize in divorce law. I mean, not that it’s a bad thing. I’m sure you’re great at divorces. Again, I’m so sorry. Enjoy your cookie.”

Abort! Abort!

All the red lights are flashing in my head, and I do the only thing I can think of—I wave my cookies at him and dart back to my table.

I don’t look back; I can’t. I’m pretty sure my face is a bright red, and I’ve succeeded in making an epic ass out of myself. I don’t think that could’ve gone worse. Maybe if I actually vomited on him instead of the word jumble that came out of my mouth…

Yeah, that would be worse.

With my face still flaming with mortification, I shove half a cookie in my mouth, and that’s when I notice Brianna and Margo, who are both now seated across from me, completely frozen and staring directly at me.

“What? Do I have chocolate on my face?” I run the back of my hand across my mouth just in case. I don’t want to go back to work with a brown streak on my face. That would be terrible.

Margo’s eyes are wide as she leans toward me, her voice a harsh whisper. “Are you okay?”

I wave her off, taking another bite of cookie, this one smaller. It’s no big deal; I’m probably on the verge of a mental breakdown. “Just put my foot in my mouth a little bit. I’m sure it’s fine. Do you know him?”

“Put your foot in your mouth? What did you say?” Brianna’s clutching her chest as she shares a concerned look with Margo. These two are more dramatic than I thought.

“Really, it was no biggie. He asked if I ever made it to the upper floors, and I told him I liked my soul intact before I realized it sounded like all the upper floors and then I clarified the twenty-first floor. I told him your thing about the Dementors. He probably didn’t get the analogy. I doubt a guy like that has seen any of the Harry Potter movies.”

With every word that comes out of my mouth, their eyes widen and their mouths drop further.

“Do you not…?” Brianna trails off, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “That was Maverick Wallace.”

I blink. And blink again. That means nothing to me.

Except—no. It can’t be the same Wallace because that would mean I pretty much told my boss’s boss how terrible he and his partners are.

Margo closes her eyes and tilts her head toward the ceiling, mumbling what I can only assume is a prayer. “He’s one of the senior partners.”

Fuck.

The blood whooshes in my ears, and my stomach twists. Shit. Shit. Fuck . I told him he was a Dementor. An emotional vampire. I said those words to his face. His stupidly handsome, I’m-the-boss-of-you face.

I’m hyperventilating.

I’m going to be fired, and I really need this job. The bills are piling up, waiting for my first paycheck. My brother is counting on me to keep a roof over our heads and groceries in the fridge.

There’s no way he’s not going to fire me. I’m fucked. I’m so fucked.

“How do you know when you’re having a stroke?” I manage to wheeze out, frantically looking around for Maverick fucking Wallace—our goddamn boss—but he’s nowhere to be found. Of course not. I just insulted the man and his partners to his motherfucking face.

“When you tell your boss he’s a Dementor,” Brianna says gravely, shaking her head. I can see it all over her face, Margo’s too. I’m done for. Finito. Fired.

I’m so fucked.

I’ve gone from dumped to fired.

There’s no way this day can get any worse.