Page 3 of Not That Guy

That insufferable, haughty gaze swept over the office. No, we weren’t a hotshot international firm, and we didn’t have a roster of multimillionaire clients like Walden, Booth, and Roth. Obnoxious fucker. Nothing had changed.

I brushed past him, but he grabbed my arm. “Don’t touch me,” I rasped, but he held on tighter.

“So you do remember.” His fathomless eyes left me breathless.

“Fuck you,” I grunted and pushed him off me, but he only laughed.

I stalked away to the restroom and shut the door behind me.

My chest heaving, I braced my arms on the vanity.

“I will not let him get to me,” I muttered and closed my eyes, inhaling and exhaling at a steady pace to regain control.

Why him? Of all the damn lawyers in the city, it had to be Weston Lively.

The one man who, no matter how I tried, always managed to worm his way under my skin. The operative word being worm .

Since our first year of law school, Weston had been a scourge, a thorn I couldn’t extract.

A perennial frat boy who sailed through life on his family’s name and wealth.

At our first meeting, I’d thought he was another pretty face and was shocked that he was as brilliant as he was arrogant.

No matter how hard I tried to beat him, he almost always came out one better than me.

When had he moved to New York? Last I’d heard, he’d been at his firm’s Boston office.

Last time.

Without much success, I’d tried to block out that wild night on the dance floor and my hotel room. A night that had released a side of me I’d never known existed. From the moment his arms came around my waist on the dance floor, I was lost. It was as if I’d been hypnotized and bound to his will.

Contrary to what Seth imagined, I did go out, more so this past year than any other, in an attempt to exorcise Weston from my system. I’d thrown myself into the dating pool, hoping to meet a woman who could make me forget a wicked grin, gleaming eyes, and the rasp of scruff on my cheek.

I’d failed miserably.

Seeing him today only steeled my resolve to push harder to find a woman and rid myself of furtive dreams I allowed only in the dark. No more. I was sober and smarter. I’d never put myself in that position again.

With a tug to my cuffs and a snap of my shoulders, I strode out of the bathroom. Of course, Weston was waiting for me, shoulder propped on the wall opposite the bathroom door.

“Got yourself together?” That smirk infuriated me, and I tried to brush past him, but he stood in my way.

Outwardly I remained a frozen statue, but inside I was a needy mess of swirling, hot emotions, my blood boiling through my veins. Hating myself for my one weakness, I drew from my inner strength and said, “Let me pass. We’re opposing counsel, and I’m here to represent my client, nothing more.”

To my complete surprise, Weston didn’t try and use further tactics and moved aside. I sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs with much-needed oxygen.

“Very well, Mr. Fleming. I’ll await our clients’ return.” He left me shaken but whole.

I leaned against the wall opposite the office where Rodney and Jill were conferring, and as the minutes slipped by, I came to the conclusion that there might be a reconciliation in the works.

That made me happy—contrary to belief, divorce lawyers didn’t want to see marriages dissolved.

And while I might not believe in love and forever, I would never stand in the way of a client trying to work out their marital problems.

So when Jill and Rodney came out from the office, eyes glittering, cheeks flushed, and mouths kiss-swollen, I didn’t need to ask.

“We’re…not going to go forward with the divorce at this time.” Rodney held Jill’s hand. “We have a lot to talk about. Just the two of us.”

For whatever reason, my eyes smarted, and I nodded. I might be jaded and despair of ever finding love, but I could still believe in it for others. “That’s terrific. Take your time and see if it’s what you want or what others are pushing you to do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Fleming.”

Weston didn’t appear to share my view, and with a frown, waved Jill to him.

“I think we need to talk. Jill, why don’t you come with me?

” She hesitated, and with a whisper in Rodney’s ear first, left him to follow Weston into the conference room.

The door shut behind them, and immediately raised voices could be heard.

“She swore she wasn’t having an affair. The meeting with that guy every Wednesday after work was tutoring him in English.” Rodney winced at the high-pitched yelling. “She’s an English teacher,” he explained. “Her mother hates me because of the things I said about her.”

“It’s hard to control our temper and our words sometimes. We say things we later regret, but if you’re truly intent on making the marriage work, I’d seek out a good therapist and not let anyone else influence you.”

Of course that brought a growl from Jonathan Fuller. “Is that what you think? That I’m the one who encouraged this divorce?”

Was he kidding? He’d done nothing but stoke the fire. “I read the notes, and it seemed that from the first you were against the marriage. You didn’t think Jill was good enough for your son? Why is that?” I could predict the answer, but I was curious to hear Fuller’s excuse.

He looked me directly in the eye. “I know what you’re thinking.

That it has to do with money. But it’s not only that.

She’s never tried to become part of the family—she’s kept Rodney away from us.

She wouldn’t let him visit unless she was with him, yet her mother is always there.

And yes, she started spending as soon as they got married—ripping apart their apartment, which was brand-new, to make it ‘her own.’” The angry glare intensified.

“So how would you feel? I shouldn’t have a right to express my opinion?

And when I did, she would yell and accuse me of trying to break them up and withhold Rodney’s trust fund, which I have no right to do, if she had any brains. ”

“Dad, please.” Looking uncomfortable, Rodney took his arm. “Can we not right now? Maybe we jumped into marriage, but I do love her. And I think getting divorced would be a mistake.” He chewed on his lip. “I’m twenty-seven, and I have a right to make my own decisions. Please let me.”

“We just don’t want you to get hurt. It’s not the first time you’ve been taken in, only this is the most serious since you married her.”

This was getting extremely personal, and I had little desire to be in the center of a messy family debate. “Let’s see what’s going on in there.” I knocked and opened the door. Tears streaked Jill’s face, and Weston, intent and serious, sat across from her and her mother.

“What?” he snapped at me. “We’re in the middle of discussing things.”

“And I need to know if anything further will be accomplished today. My clients are ready to leave.” It was nice to see the great Weston Lively lose his cool, but as if the bastard had read my mind, he shut his file and showed that sarcastic twist of his lips that had always made me want to punch his face.

“We’re done. Ladies?” They filed out ahead of him, walking down the hall to the waiting room. Jill and Rodney spoke in low tones to each other, while the in-laws ignored each other’s existence.

“Rodney? We’ll be in touch.” I shook his hand. When it came to his father, I tried to reason with him. “Let your son live his life. It’s hard to see them make mistakes, but it’s worse to lose them.”

His hard jaw worked, but he gave me a curt nod. They left, and I said my farewells to Jill and her mother. Hands in his pockets, Weston stood by, a silent figure but looming in my mind. I turned my back on him and walked away.

“Brenner.” He caught up to me easily. “No good-bye for me?” he teased. I could almost feel his mouth on my skin and his hot breath on my lips.

I stopped at the door to my office. “Good-bye.” I stepped inside and shut the door in his face. After several minutes passed without him entering, I blew out a sigh of relief. I was safe, for now.