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By the time I’m out of the shower, I start to wonder if I’ve let my irritation and attraction to Reese Summer cloud my judgment about meeting him. In an effort to not appear unprofessional, have I decidedly acted unprofessional? I’m going to want to interview him. Why would he grant an interview to a woman who stood him up? Of course, I didn’t agree to meet him and it wasn’t a date, but still…
By the time I’ve dressed in a fitted black suit-dress with a V-neck, and have pinned my hair neatly at the back of my head, I’m certain I’ve misstepped. Determined to fix that problem and catch Reese before he leaves the coffee shop, I pull on a black blazer and my knee-high black boots, and then slip my briefcase and purse across my chest on my way to the door. I’ve just finished the fifteen-floor elevator ride and stepped into the lobby when my cellphone rings.
I cross the lobby while scooping it out of my unzipped purse to note my friend Lauren Walker’s number.
Waving at Adam, the doorman, I exit the building and answer the call. “How’s the baby?” I ask, answering the call.
“Are you talking about the one in my belly or the one in my bed?” she asks.
“You’re the only person on this planet that would call your beast of a husband and ex-FBI agent a baby.”
“Baby is the wrong word,” she concedes. “Protective bear is more like it. He hovers worse than the DA, and I know you know what that means.”
After three years of working with her and under said DA’s operation, I do, but I get it. She miscarried last year. Her husband is worried. Still. “Royce can’t be that bad.”
“He is. So are his brothers. Soon I will have a drone following me to the bathroom.”
I laugh. “That would be bad. Really bad. But sympathy aside. How are you feeling?”
“Sick. I hear that’s actually a good thing. But me aside, I have a client meeting in a few, but there was a purpose to this call other than drones and hovering men. I thought you’d want to know that Royce got a call from the defendant in the case you’re covering.”
I frown. “Nelson Ward wants to hire your husband’s company to protect him?”
“He isn’t pleased with the company he’s using to handle the threats he’s getting.”
“And?”
“Royce immediately declined. He just feels it’s bad mojo to aid in the defense of a guy who might have killed a pregnant woman, especially with a pregnant wife of his own.”
“I think he has a point.”
“Of course he does, but I know Reese Summer. I don’t believe he’d take this case if he believed Nelson to be guilty.”
I turn a corner and keep walking, weaving through the crowd. “You’ve met Reese?”
“Yes. I know I told you that.”
“No. No, you did not tell me that, though I suppose it’s logical, since you’re both working criminal defense attorneys. Are you telling me now that you’re going to talk Royce into taking the case?”
“No,” she says. “I tried and failed, and I know what battles to pick with the Walker men. And I read your rundown on opening statements, which was not only excellent, by the way, it cements my belief that Mr. Hotness wins again.”
“Mr. Hotness?” I ask, stopping dead in my tracks only a few steps from the coffee shop. “What does that mean?”
“Oh gosh, you don’t know Mr. Hotness? What kind of reporter are you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Reese was on TV last year, and it sparked all kinds of fantasy blogs about him. It’s insanity the way it took off. He hates it.”
“Reese Summer is Mr. Hotness?”
“Yes, but like I said. He hates it. He feels it degrades his skills. He’s a good guy. And he is hot, but don’t tell Royce I said that. He’s been very jealous since I got pregnant again, which is just silly. I’m pregnant, for God’s sake.”
“Like you have eyes for anyone but Royce anyway.”
She sighs. “I really do love that man. Anyway, I have to go. But for the record, I’ll bet you a Chocolate Avalanche Sundae at that ice cream place we found a few months back that the woman’s ex-boyfriend killed her.” There are voices in the background before she says, “I need to go, but I expect courtroom gossip you tell no one but me.” And on that note, she hangs up.
I lower the phone and blink with the realization that right now, the biggest gossip I have to share, or withhold, is me meeting Mr. Arrogant Asshole while reading about, and admittedly living, a mini-fantasy about Mr. Hotness, both of which are Reese. How is this even possible?
