Page 8

Chapter Eight

Tahlia

June 26th

T he office buzzes like a hive with all the low murmurs of conversations punctuated by ringing phones and clicking keyboards.

It's controlled chaos. Kinda like that calm before a storm. I glance around my office. The desk is drowning under mountains of case files with colorful sticky notes jutting out at frantic angles. My laptop hums, screen glowing with a never-ending parade of emails. The big corporate case starts Monday, and my firm is representing the little guys. It’s part of the reason why I chose to intern here. Why I’ve worked relentlessly to earn my spot as lead legal assistant. I didn't bust my ass through law school just to defend billion-dollar corporations.

My heart belongs to those who need justice most.

But right now, my shoulders are paying the price for that passion.

I roll them, grimacing at the knots forming in protest.

Without warning, my office door swings open, smacking the wall behind it.

Joi strolls in like she owns the place, curls bouncing, eyes bright, expression amused as she eyes my disaster zone of a workspace.

"Ew, Tahlia," she says dramatically, "it looks like your desk threw up."

I toss a pencil at her.

"Hello to you too. Shouldn’t you be in the conference room setting up A/V?"

She ducks, grinning as she steps closer.

"You’re welcome. And no. Because it’s time for lunch."

"Lunch?" I frown, glancing at the clock.

It’s already after one.

My stomach gives a traitorous growl.

"Yes. You know, food? That thing normal people consume midday?" Joi teases, tossing her curls over her shoulder.

“My stomach is touching my back, I’m so hungry. So, hurry up..”

“I can’t. These files need to be prepped for the Handley case on Monday.” I mark another section of the document and type the selection into my case notes for quick reference.

“Yes, I am aware. And those documents will still be here when you get back from feeding your brain. It needs nourishment to finish highlighting in triplicate.”

"Funny." I sigh, standing and stretching.

"Fine, let’s go." I grab my phone and we exit my office, catching the elevator down to the lobby area where we go every day for a much needed afternoon break.

The café downstairs is packed with people from the various offices inside the building and those who are coming in to have one of the best lunch meals this city has to offer.

The aroma of grilled chicken, avocado, and freshly baked bread blending into the familiar smell of midday reprieve tickles my senses as we enter.

Joi finds our usual table while I grab our usual, and soon we're knee-deep in salads and chatter.

"So, what on your agenda tonight? Judging by your desk upstairs, I’m thinking Bar prep tonight cause you definitely aren’t getting any done today." Joi comments around a mouthful of kale.

"Nope, tomorrow."

Joi pauses, her fork suspended in midair. "Sis. You said tomorrow yesterday."

I shake my head. "No, today’s Wednesday."

Joi blinks placing her fork down. “Are you feeling, okay?”

“Yeah, why?” I take a large bite of chicken and avocado and slowly chew while she shows me her phone screen pointing out the calendar app. Which displays the day, Thursday not Wednesday.

I stare. Blink. Groan. Loudly. "Shit," I whisper.

Joi leans forward, alert. "What’s going on?"

"Jake," I blurt out, voice quieter than intended. "He comes home tomorrow, and he'll want an answer, and I haven’t even thought about it."

Joi's eyes widen like Christmas just came early. She pushes her plate back. "An answer to what exactly?"

I stab a piece of lettuce, annoyed by its crispness. "He invited me to some fundraiser Monday, and I said I'd think about it." I take the bite off my fork and chase it with a sip of water.

Joi’s face lights up. "So, what are you nervous about?"

I scoff, eyes narrowing. "Nerves are for girls with crushes. I'm just… adjusting to the idea of seeing him. Again. Not sure if I want to even go."

Joi’s smile widens and I can tell she’s not buying it. "Sure. Just like you didn’t want to go the game, yet you went.”

“That was just as a thank you for helping me with my books.”

“You said it was a peace offering from him.”

“And it was. My attending was the thank you for him.”

“Uh-huh,” she drags out. “Oh, we're definitely going dress shopping after work."

"Nope," I say firmly, sensing defeat already.

She raises an eyebrow, completely unbothered. "Tahlia, you’re going," she says.

“Give me a reason why,” I retort.

Never one to back down from a challenge, she begins to tick her fingers. "One, he's hot. Two, you need to live a little. Three, if you don’t, I'm calling your dad."

"That's straight-up blackmail."

"Sisterly love," she corrects.

I snort, trying not to smile. "Fine. Meet you after work."

She beams. "Victory is mine."

I roll my eyes, tossing a crouton at her. "You're ridiculous."

She dodges, laughing. "And you love it."

Dammit, I do.

June 27th

“That’s the final document,” I say entering the last note into the file. It’s Friday evening, shortly after nine p.m. and my hands and eyes hurt. The conference room table is finally neat, with stacked case files signaling our small victory.

Joi sprawls into a chair, sighing. "If I read one more brief tonight, my eyes will bleed."

"If you read another document and your eyes bleed, you have another far more serious issue," I laugh, pushing back from the table.

“Whatever. So, what are you going to tell him?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Tahlia. Are you going to say yes to Jake?”

“Well, considering how you forced me to buy three dresses last night, I might be leaning toward a yes,” I shrug to emphasize how I’m still not sure what my reply will be.

Joi shrills with excitement. “Girl. You haven’t been on a date since…carry the two, subtract five.” She fake-maths me and I throw a legal pad at her.

“Oh. Workman’s comp much?”

“I’m ready to go. Wanna come over?”

“Why would I? My bestie just assaulted me with her legal briefs. Give me one good reason.”

"Wine?"

"God, yes," she groans, following me out.

At my place, after changing into my night shirt and shorts, I pour generous glasses of the much-needed libation. The fruity aroma drifts through the kitchen as the liquid clings to the glass and I’m instantly relaxed.

Joi takes the cheese board and crackers into the living room, kicking off her heels and sinking into my couch like she’s lived here forever.

“You know I love this couch. It just hugs me like a lover would.”

‘“Seeing how dating is your thing, it’s easy to see how you’d make that connection,” I comment, taking my seat on the opposite end of the furniture.

Our laughter fills the quiet condo, tension easing away.

“Don’t be mad. You choose to exist only for studying and working, not living.”

“You sound like Lauren.”

“Then you know I must be right.”

We take a sip allowing the silence to fall between us. For a second.

“So, are you ready for your date?”

“It’s not a date,” I correct. “Just a fundraiser.”

“Mm-hmm,” Joi sings, not bothering to hide her amusement. “Keep telling yourself that. I also noticed you didn’t say no either.”

“That’s because I hadn’t made up my mind. On one hand, it’ll be nice to meet some of the elite of Nashville and help a worthy cause. On the other hand, I could really catch up with my studying. The last two days have been put on hold because of the case.”

“And even so, you still got this. You act like you’re trying to get a perfect score.”

“I just don’t want to fail. I almost missed applying and would’ve had to wait five months before the application period opened again. I just don’t want to miss out on something I’ve wanted since high school.”

“And you won’t. What you’re gonna miss out on is life, itself.”

A sharp knock at the door jolts us both.

"Expecting company?" Joi asks.

“No. It’s too late for me to have company. Besides you.”

I move cautiously toward the door wondering who could be at my door at eleven o’clock at night. A peek through the peephole reveals Jake’s unmistakable hazel eyes. Showered, wearing black shorts and a fitted grey tee that hugs his defined arms. Tattoos winding around his biceps.

My pulse skips. Fuck .

I open the door, raising an eyebrow.

Jake leans casually on the door frame, crossing his arms with a smirk.

"Ms. You're too loud. Some of us have to work tomorrow," he drawls.

I tilt my head defiantly. "Then tell your groupies to keep it down, Reynolds."

He chuckles. His eyes sparkling under the hallway lighting. "Jealous much, counselor?”

“Please. Not even a little, Mr. Ducati.”

His grin widens at the nickname, clearly pleased.

Behind me, Joi clears her throat.

I step aside, gesturing toward her. “Oh, sorry. Jake, this is my best pain in the ass, Joi. Clearly, she knows who you are.”

Joi waves with much enthusiasm. "Hey, Jake!"

He glances at her, amused. "Uh, hey."

Joi shrugs. "Fan club president right here."

Jake laughs. "Nice to meet you, Joi."

He shifts his attention back to me, eyes softening just a little. “Well?”

“Well, what?” I feign innocence.

Jake sighs. “The fundraiser? Monday? Ring a bell?”

“Oh, right.” I bite my lip, playing reluctant.

Joi elbows me, not even bothering to hide her smirk.

“See, we have this trial on Mon?—"

Joi interrupts gleefully. "She says yes!"

I glare at her. "Really?"

She shrugs, unapologetic. "You were taking too long to respond," she says, sipping her wine.

Jake grins hard. "Well?"

I sigh. "I guess I'll go."

His smirk morphs into genuine happiness. "Good. It'll be worth it."

"It better be," I warn, fighting my smile.

He starts toward his door then stops. “Maybe we should exchange phone numbers, just in case.”

“Why? When we live next door to each other.”

Joi comes over and takes Jake’s phone from his hand and inputs my name and number before pressing send so I can lock in his information as well.

“I swear you two are so damn stubborn,” she mutters, walking back to the sofa and picking up her glass of wine.

“Tahlia Carter. Nice to have a full name to go with all that attitude.”

“Yeah and now I can just call you when you’re being too noisy.”

“If you think about it, you haven’t heard a peep from my place lately. I’m trying to respect the law.”

He moves toward his door, pausing. "five o'clock Monday. Wear something unstoppable."

"You worry about yourself, Mr. Ducati," I tease.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Night, counselor."

I shut the door behind him, releasing a slow breath. Joi bursts into laughter behind me.

"What?" I groan.

"You’re smitten."

"I’m definitely not smitten."

"Sure." Joi smirks. "And I'm not gorgeous."

"You're not," I tease, back.

She throws a pillow, laughing. "Shut up."

I sit beside her, sipping my wine, thinking.. "He's infuriating. And smug."

"And ridiculously hot," Joi adds, not helping..

I roll my eyes, but my cheeks warm. "Noted."

She nudges my shoulder. "It’s okay to like someone, Tahlia. Especially a hot, tattooed baseball god."

I groan, falling back into the cushions. "Why me?"

"Because," Joi says, "you need someone to remind you to live a little."

I consider this, my stomach fluttering with possibility. Maybe she's right. Maybe Jake is exactly the distraction I didn’t realize I needed.

But I’m sure as hell not going to admit it. Not yet.

"Fine," I concede, raising my glass. "To distractions."

Joi clinks her glass to mine. "And baseball gods."

"You're insufferable."

"And right," she insists.

"Whatever," I mutter, laughing.

Deep down, something stirs inside me—excitement, nervousness. A tentative willingness to take a risk. And as much as Jake Reynolds irritates me, maybe—just maybe—I’m finally ready to find out if the risk is worth it.