Page 11 of Sugar (Gilded #1)

Not unless Greer’s dad was secretly pursuing a reality show—something that was a distinct possibility.

I would watch it.

But that didn’t account for the few businesses he’d also represented.

“That’s because I don’t,” he said.

“You don’t practice law?” My brows lowered, and I tilted my head toward the framed accreditations that hung on his wall. “Did you have them printed at one of those novelty kiosks in the mall? I think they could also make you look like an old-timey crook.”

He chuckled, and I was struck again by how good it sounded. The roughness could’ve been thanks to his gravelly voice, but I also got the impression that his laughter was as rare as his smiles seemed to be.

“I don’t stay in one lane,” he clarified. “It gets monotonous. I like to handle whatever cases I feel like.”

“Because of the aforementioned control issues,” I joked before I could stop myself.

Thankfully, he wasn’t insulted and gave a firm nod. “Exactly.”

“So if you had to narrow it down…”

“I clean up messes.”

“Do you have a favorite mess?”

“Not one I’m at liberty to share.”

I figured as much.

I made my way through more of my standard interview questions, all geared to highlight his success—and Coastal’s role in said success.

Going off that, I took June’s suggestion. “Of all the many awards you have, which is your favorite or the most meaningful?”

On the surface, he looked unfazed. Until my gaze landed on his rapidly reddening ears. “June has a big mouth.”

I didn’t deny she’d planted the idea since he would likely spot the lie.

“The majority are sent thanks to charitable contributions that I made to do good in the world, not to have that money wasted by sticking my name on a plaque.”

“Like a bench?” I asked, remembering Joel’s throwaway comment to Easton in the hallway.

“Like that.” At my lost expression, he explained, “After I made a donation, they put up a bench in my honor. Last I knew, it was in the east corner of the student library near the law periodicals.”

Oh.

Ohhhhh.

Unlike Easton’s flush, mine wasn’t limited to my ears. It spread up my chest and across my cheeks.

He ran his thumb along his etched jawline as he studied me. His voice definitely held a little more roughness when he quietly prodded, “What were you thinking just now?”

“Nothing,” I tried, but it came out airy.

His dark eyes narrowed as he stared me down.

If he was a prosecutor, he would have a record-high conviction rate. Everyone would just confess under the intensity of that silent glower.

Breaking the eye contact, I looked to the side and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to think of a feasible lie.

“Madeline.”

At the edged way he said my name, my gaze snapped back to him. Only his eyes weren’t aimed at mine. They were locked on where I gnawed my lip. He slowly raised them. “Tell me.”

Thrown by the firmness in his order and the unexpected heat coating me, I gave him the honest answer.

Kind of.

Because unfortunately, my words came out a stammered, babbled mess. I sounded every bit the silly little girl I’d initially been introduced as. “The bench is, uhh… It’s a known… Um, students hook up on it.”

I wasn’t sure how the somber attorney would take the news that his namesake bench was used for illicit purposes. If he would be insulted that he’d donated all that money just for it to be sullied. Or maybe even angry.

I was wrong.

His small smile was heavy with unmistakable pride. “Good for them.”

I deflated. “Really?”

“Better that than it getting carved up.” I pressed my lips together, and he surmised, “It’s carved up. Is it with dicks?”

Hearing him say fuck had sent a zip of lust through me. Hearing him say dick? It was an entire electrical storm of desire that jolted my body.

I did my best to ignore the inappropriate reaction as I nodded. “They’re well-done ones, if that helps. Very artsy.”

“That’s some consolation.” He opened his mouth, but a series of rapid beeps cut through the air. “I need to check these. Excuse me.”

While he looked at his cell, I read through my questions. I’d covered them all, but my brain raced to come up with more. Follow-ups or new ones to prolong the interview that I wasn’t ready to end.

Unfortunately, that choice was out of my hands.

“I’m sorry, Maddie, something’s come up with a client,” Easton said as he stood.

A joke hovered on my lips to accuse him of setting up the fake texts as an emergency out—similar to the ones I used with Wren when we had dates we were unsure about.

But one look at Easton showed a genuine urgency. He moved to his desk as he spoke. “Do you have everything you need for the article?”

No.

I wanted another hour or ten of this.

“Yes,” I said instead as I repacked my bag—including the cookie that would make the perfect midnight snack.

“Reach out if you think of anything you forgot. Or for any reason.”

That added throwaway offer at the end usually would’ve been enough to make my overactive imagination flare up.

Instead, I was preoccupied by my own emotions.

Disappointment sank in my belly at the knowledge it was likely the last we would see of each other.

But curiosity prickled at that instinctive part of my brain as I wondered what had him moving so quickly. I focused on the first part.

Hoping there might be seven degrees of separation that would cause our paths to cross down the line, I asked, “I don’t know if you’re allowed to tell me, but were you hired by Doug?”

He paused what he was doing and looked up to meet my gaze. There was an indecipherable look on his face before he said, “No.”

Yikes.

Way to make it weird, Mads .

“Oh. I’m, uh, sorry?—”

He cut off my apology. “I turned him down. We weren’t a good fit.”

That was surprising. Doug seemed to get along with anyone and everyone. Even if they didn’t mesh, it wasn’t like they had to be besties for Easton to represent him.

Or for Doug to pay him for that service.

It seemed odd he would pass on the easy money.

Maybe he really does have control issues.

I wanted to press on it, but I swallowed down the questions that weren’t my business. “I’ll send you a draft of the article when I’m done. Thank you again for meeting with me.”

I started for the door when he called, “Maddie.”

I paused and looked over my shoulder.

“You can exit through that door. It brings you right into the lot.”

“I’m parked down the street.”

For whatever reason, he didn’t look pleased about that. “Park in the lot next time.” I didn’t bother to point out that there wouldn’t be a next time as he glanced at his watch. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh, you don’t have…” My refusal tapered off at the withering glare he shot me. “Thanks.”

I lost the ability to make any further conversation when he unrolled his sleeves and refastened his cufflinks into place before pulling his suit coat back on.

I never knew watching a man put more clothes on could be so sexy, yet here we are.

He grabbed a briefcase and closed the distance between us as I distractedly stepped into the hall. We both paused as he closed his office door and hovered his palm over the electric lock until it clicked into place.

More of the offices were darkened and empty, though a few hard workers remained. We passed one before Easton took a step back into the open doorway. “Keep an eye on your phone.”

“On it, boss,” the guy answered before his curious gaze landed on me. He offered a smile that I returned.

Easton’s hand moved like he was going to touch my lower back.

I hoped he would.

But then he lifted it away to gesture down the hall.

We walked in silence through the empty lobby, and I gave the guppies one last look before we walked out the door.

The same beefy man was at his spot in the entryway. When he saw us, he jumped up to grab the door, but Easton waved him off.

“Are you done soon, Benji?”

The man glanced down at the tablet. “Frank should be here in an hour.”

“Enjoy your weekend off.” Easton opened the other door, and we walked out onto the sidewalk before I turned toward my car.

“How much security do you have?” I asked.

“Twenty-four seven for the building and the parking lot.”

“You must have some big-name clients to justify that expense. Ones like…” I said with faux casualness.

Even in the fading sunlight, I could easily make out the blank look he gave. “My staff work late nights, and we keep sensitive and privileged information on site.”

“I was kidding. My research into my opposition already showed you’re tightlipped about your clients.” I arched a brow. “Though they’re not always the same way. Are you actually friends with Tripp Carter?”

Along with being photographed together, the actor had publicly spoken about Easton on more than one occasion.

“Off record?” he surprised me by asking.

I stopped suddenly and nodded emphatically.

Easton scanned around us before inching closer. I had my neck craned to look up at him, but he still lowered his head and his voice to whisper in my ear, “No comment.”

For a split second, I thought he was annoyed I’d tried prying—even if I’d been mostly joking. But when he stood upright, amusement lit his dark eyes again.

He has a surprisingly teasing sense of humor for someone who barely seems to smile.

I rolled my eyes. “You really are a cruel tyrant.”

He chuckled—and it again sounded so good, even if it was aimed at me. The blow was softened when his palm pressed to my lower back to get me moving again.

His phone dinged, and he pulled it out. His already long strides picked up pace until I was speed walking to keep up.

“You don’t have to walk me if you have somewhere to be,” I offered.

He just gave me a look before returning his focus to his phone as he rapidly typed something.

Once we reached the lot, I said, “My car is right there.”

But he didn’t leave me at the entrance. He walked me all the way to my Jeep even though he clearly had something important to deal with.

I opened my door and turned to him, but my goodbye froze in my throat when he lifted his hand. I barely choked down a sharp inhale as my lust jumped to conclusions. But rather than touching me, he ran his thumb along his jaw again.

My fingers tingled to follow the same path and feel the stubble that coated it. I fisted my hand to fight the urge. “Thanks. And thanks again for the interview. I’ll be in touch when it’s done.”

“Looking forward to it, Maddie.”

He’d said something similar on the phone earlier but hearing it in person was so much better.

Before I said or did something to ruin the moment, I climbed into my Jeep and closed the door.

At least I don’t have to back up in this cramped lot with an audience. With my luck, I would’ve either bumped a car or it would’ve taken me ten minutes and a hundred wheel adjustments.

I pretended not to be aware of Easton still standing nearby as I pulled forward and turned to follow the twisting path of one-ways. I reached the exit and was about to pull out when I checked for oncoming traffic and saw Easton.

Only instead of heading back to his building and parking lot, he walked the other way.

It’s not my business what he has going on. I’m nosy, not a stalker.

And not everything is a potential story.

We left it on a high note. The smart thing to do is…

Oh, never mind.

Checking my mirrors, I backed up and parked again in a nearby spot. I didn’t want to make myself a target with my big bag, but I pocketed my phone, ID, and debit card before hurrying from the car.

I got to the sidewalk to see Easton was thankfully still visible.

That thrill of—literally—chasing a story made my blood electric as it rushed through my veins.

I kept my distance and did, in fact, become a stalker as I trailed him heading farther and farther down the street.

After a handful of blocks, he slowed before disappearing inside a building.

Shit.

I picked up speed until I reached where I’d last seen him.

Huh.

Unlike the other buildings surrounding it, there was no glass window front. No darkened lobby. No signage on the white brick exterior at all. The wide three-story building had a door.

And that was it.

Through the etched glass of said door, I was able to make out the distorted view of a man. The setup reminded me of the security entryway at Wells Law.

Does Easton have more than one office? That’s not unusual, but it seems like a waste to have them so close to each other.

I lurked for a few seconds longer, trying to decide if appeasing my curiosity was worth the embarrassment of getting turned away by the guard. Or worth the risk of getting caught by Easton.

It wasn’t.

Spinning on my heel, I’d barely taken a single step when a deep voice spoke from behind me. “You’re in the right place.”