Page 7 of Hooked on Mack (Hooked #7)

Mack

“Risotto and reconciliation”—that’s how I'd describe my last-ditch effort to save the case from going down in flames.

It was time to make amends with Larissa Montgomery, that firecracker of a lawyer who had no qualms about knocking me down a peg or two.

I decided to invite her to Luigi's, an Italian restaurant near the courthouse.

“Hey, I thought we could talk things out at Luigi’s.”

“Fine, but I'm only agreeing because I happen to like their eggplant parm.”

“Great, see you at seven,” I said before hanging up.

I should not care about what I was wearing, but somehow I changed three times before leaving the house.

Larissa and I had butted heads multiple times since knowing each other in Law School, but that had never stopped me from hoping my chance would come.

How was I ever going to get the chance to shoot my shot when I kept getting cases against her?

The world was against me. But maybe I could change the trajectory after this one.

On the way, I kept thinking of how charming I’d been to her over the last few years. No wonder she thought I was an egotistical asshole, but I had time to change her mind. The truth, I’d been in love with her since hearing her argue a case at Law School. She was a savage, even then.

When I pulled up, Larissa was standing outside.

“Hey. You know, I've always believed that the best conversations happen over a plate of pasta.”

“Is that so?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly not amused.

“Absolutely.” I held the door open for her as we entered. “There's something about carbs that just brings people together.”

We took our seats at a table by the window. I got to play this cool. Maybe she wasn’t into me. It’d be my luck, the one girl I wanted would be the one that didn’t want me back. But I’d never told her about my feelings, and maybe it was time.

As we perused the menu, I stole glances at Larissa—her hair framing her face perfectly, her eyes scanning the options.

“Alright, Mack,” she said as she put down the menu, leaning back in her chair. “Why don't you cut to the chase and tell me why we're really here?”

“Can't a guy just enjoy a meal with a worthy opponent?” I tried to play it cool, but the truth was that I was desperate.

“Save the charm for the judge, Harrington,” she shot back, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. Maybe my optimism was starting to work its magic.

“Alright,” I said, waving away the hovering waiter, who seemed as eager to take our order as a vulture circling its prey. “I'll get the lasagna, and she'll have the eggplant parm. And a bottle of the house red to share and I insist on covering this meal. Consider it an olive branch.”

“Fine, but don't think that means you're off the hook.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” I replied, raising my hands.

The waiter retreated, no doubt relieved to escape the tension.

“There's something I've been wanting to ask you. About your ex-girlfriend—the lawyer, right?”

My stomach clenched as memories of my past relationship resurfaced. How had she found out? I tried to keep my voice steady. “What about her?”

“Word on the street is that she cheated on you while working on a case together. Is that true?”

“Where did you hear that?” I asked, gripping my wineglass.

“Does it matter?” She leaned back in her chair, studying my reaction with those piercing green eyes. “I just find it interesting that you're so adamant about playing by the rules now. It's almost like you're overcompensating for something.”

“Maybe I just believe in doing the right thing,” I shot back, trying to ignore that she had struck a nerve.

“Or maybe you're afraid of getting hurt again,” she countered. “And if that's the case, then it's going to be difficult for us to work together.”

I took a slow sip of my wine, buying myself time to come up with a response.

She was right—I didn't want to get burned again.

But I also couldn't let her use that against me.

“Look, Larissa,” I said, meeting her gaze head-on.

“What happened between me and my ex is ancient history. It has nothing to do with this case or how I conduct myself as a lawyer.”

“Good,” she replied, nodding, apparently satisfied with my answer. Though I couldn't shake the feeling that she was still testing me, probing for weaknesses.

“Can we move on from psychoanalyzing my love life now?” I asked, forcing a light chuckle. “I thought we were here to talk about the case.”

“Of course,” she agreed, a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Let's focus on what really matters.”

Was I really just trying to do the right thing, or was there something deeper driving me? And could I trust Larissa not to exploit my vulnerabilities? Only time would tell. But one thing was certain—this case was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

We weren't friends, after all. We were adversaries, locked in a legal battle.

“Promise me that whatever happens in court, we won't let it make us crazy.”

“Deal,” I agreed without hesitation, reaching across the table to shake her hand. “May the best lawyer win, Larissa.”

“Indeed,” she smiled, giving my hand a firm squeeze. “May the best lawyer win.”

Desperate to shift the focus away from our professional rivalry, I decided to double down on the charm. “You know, you really are stunning tonight. That dress brings out the fire in your eyes.”

“Nice try, Harrington,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “But flattery will get you nowhere with me.”

“Really?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow. “So you're immune to compliments, huh? Well, how about this: not only are you one of the most beautiful women I've ever met, but you're also one of the smartest. If beauty and brains were a crime, they'd lock you up and throw away the key.”

“Okay, okay,” she conceded, a reluctant grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I admit, that was a good one.”

“See?” I winked. “I knew I could make you smile.”

“Fine, you win this round.” She laughed. “But don't get too cocky, Mack. Remember, I still know how to play dirty.”

“Wouldn't have it any other way,” I shot back, feeling the electric current between us surge once more.

As we continued to trade barbs and banter, I found myself wondering if this game we were playing was worth the risk.

Rejection was hard, and putting myself out there with her…

my stomach was in knots. But as I gazed into her eyes, there was something real between us—something that went beyond our professional rivalry.

And for now, that was enough to keep me hooked.