Page 7 of Not That Guy

“It’d be a bit of a drain financially in the beginning with the buy-in.

” I chewed on my bottom lip. Without revealing what had happened between Weston and me, I could fall back on our law-school rivalry.

“But also, there’s this guy, another lawyer.

He and I butted heads, always trying to outdo each other. Could be awkward.”

“So? You ain’t joining the firm to make friends.

You’re there for business. It’s a large firm.

You ain’t gonna have to see him if you don’t wanna.

And you know how to act if you do come face-to-face.

Just like how I told you about those snooty kids when you were growin’ up.

Shoulders up, head high, and look ’em straight in the eye. You got nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

God, I missed him.

“You’re right, I know. Just sometimes I forget.”

“Well, kiddo, that’s why you got me around to remind you.” He snickered, and I laughed along with him. “I thought maybe you was callin’ me to say you found a nice girl and was gonna get married. That’d be the only way you’d get me to come up there again.”

“No. Nobody yet.”

He grunted. “I ain’t gettin’ any younger, you know. Wouldn’t mind seein’ a coupla grandkids.”

“I’ll see what I can do about it. I have a date tonight.” In the excitement over lunch and the offer, I’d almost forgotten.

“Listen. You’ve worked your ass off your whole life to prove you weren’t the names those kids called you. Don’t think we didn’t know. You deserve to be happy and have a family of your own.”

My face burned. “I tried to keep it from you. I didn’t want to be trouble. I didn’t want you to send me away.”

“We neva woulda. Your mother loved you as if you were born to her. And you were my son. Those kids’ parents were lucky your mother held me back, ’cause I mighta done somethin’ stupid to them.”

Tears burned, and my throat tightened. “Thanks. I guess no matter what, when you’re a foster kid, the fear never leaves that you don’t belong and it can all disappear in a flash.”

“Thirty years ago, it was almost impossible for an over-forty couple to adopt. But when you came to us, all scared and skinny, we knew you belonged with us. And I woulda gone to the mat for that.”

“I know. And I’m glad families these days don’t have to jump through all the hoops we did.

” By the time things had changed enough that Bill and Pearl could adopt me legally, I’d been past eighteen.

It hadn’t made sense for them to adopt me as an adult, but they were my parents in every sense of the word.

“Now tell me about your date. Who’s the lucky lady?”

My lips twitched. “I met her online. We’re having drinks, and we’ll see how it progresses. She’s a stockbroker—I haven’t had much luck with lawyers, so I’m branching out.”

“Good,” Bill agreed. “Maybe she can give us some tips. Ha-ha.”

I joined him in his laughter. “I’ll wait for the second date, if you don’t mind.”

Talking to Bill always put me in a better mood, and after we said good-bye, I dove into my cases for the day with little chance to think of the lunch with Daniel Roth or the offer.

It wasn’t until I was walking into Cipriani Downtown to meet my date that I realized I should’ve sent a thank-you to Roth.

I made a note on my phone to send one that evening.

“May I help you?” The hostess awaited at the entrance.

“I have a reservation—Brenner Fleming. I’m expecting someone to join me.”

“I’m here, Brenner.” A husky voice had me spinning on my heel. “Lydia Grant.”

“Nice to meet you.” She was beautiful, and her cheek was smooth and cool when she leaned in for a welcome kiss. A delicious scent wove around me, and my pulse quickened. A good sign—great, in fact. I hadn’t had this kind of reaction to a woman in a year.

“This way, please.” We were led to a table tucked away in the corner and presented with menus.

“Do you feel like having food, or should we start with just drinks?” Lydia met my eyes over the cocktail listing.

“I’m easy.”

“Good to know.”

Her brown eyes danced, and my cheeks burned. Not that I was a prude, but I’d never been the kind of person to enjoy sexual banter. Some things were better off left in private.

We ordered drinks and some appetizers to share, and she asked me about my job and where I worked.

“I’m not familiar with that firm.”

“We’re a boutique firm. I like it that way.” Her frown surprised me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…just that I’d think you’d want to be in a more well-known practice. It’ll make you a lot of money and give you exposure.”

I wasn’t liking where this was heading, but I figured that was why there were first dates. To find out these little quirks.

“Not everything is about making the most money. I deal with a lot of emotional issues with my clients. They’re not simply another file to me.

Keeping it smaller enables me to give my clients more personalized service.

” Daniel’s reference to the firm being like a family was a reason I’d consider moving to them.

“My father is a doctor, and the first thing he taught me was never to get emotionally attached to my clients at work. I can’t think about the people behind the companies I trade or invest my clients in.

” She lifted an elegant, silk-clad shoulder and accepted her drink from the server.

“If I short them and they go bankrupt, it’s not my fault. ”

Technically she was correct, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I was no Boy Scout, but there were certain things that would keep me up at night.

We ate our appetizers and chatted about plays and books—safe things we’d discussed online and agreed upon. When the server appeared and asked if we were interested in dinner, I opened my mouth to say yes, but Lydia answered for us.

“No, we’ll take the check, please.”

The server withdrew, and Lydia directed her forthright gaze to me. “You’re a nice guy, Brenner, but there’s no spark, and no reason to force it.”

A bit hurt, I kept my opinions to myself. “Not a problem.” I reached for the check, and Lydia slid four twenties across the table.

“Here’s my share.”

She snapped her purse shut and stood. I got to my feet, gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, and watched her walk away. I paid the bill, got into my car, and within half an hour was in my apartment, writing that thank-you email to Daniel Roth.

Was I selling out if I moved to Walden, Booth, and Roth? My conversation with Lydia made me sound like a virtuous do-gooder, but in truth, receiving an offer like that made me feel damn good about myself.

After puttering around my apartment, I sat with a cup of tea and practiced a bit of meditation to wind down for bed. Of course that was the moment my phone buzzed, and figuring it was Daniel Roth, I decided to peek.

I was wrong.

Heard you had a nice meet and greet with Daniel. Are you going to say yes? Don’t worry. I’ll teach you the ropes. ~W

And a fucking winky emoji.

All my inner peace vanished. How the hell could I work with Weston Lively? Pompous ass . The intervening years hadn’t dulled his shine, and he’d only grown into the role as a wealthy and privileged senator’s son who’d had everything handed to him without needing to ask.

“Bastard.”

Ignoring the message, I went to bed, but Weston remained on my mind.

The next morning, I woke up from a dream of the two of us that was so filthy, I couldn’t catch my breath.

Before I could think of moving, I had to get off.

I palmed my dick, sliding my grip the same way Weston had touched me that night, and all I could think of was his hot, wet mouth on mine, the rasp of a scratchy late-night scruff, and hard muscles pressing me into the bureau. My body pulsed and throbbed with need.

“Oh, fuck.”

I arched off the bed and came, shooting a hot stream over my hand. Guilty, I glanced around, as if someone had watched me pleasure myself, thinking of a man. But not just any man.

Weston.

In the shower, I argued with myself that I’d be foolish to allow that jerk to influence a major life decision. If I thought the move would benefit me more than staying where I was, Weston Lively would never keep me from my goal.

I deleted his message and headed to the subway.