Page 28 of Take What Hurts

Mattias frowned. “By being attracted to the lawyer on the other side?”

Elliott’s fingers twisted together. “I guess. But we’ve run into each other a couple of times and had coffee and shopped at the Fremont Market together and whatever.” She ran a finger down the side of her own flute of champagne, drawing lines in the condensation that gathered there as the golden liquid warmed in the heat of the house. She sighed. “And it was really nice. We had a great time. But the attraction was”—she puffed out a breath—“just strong the whole time, and I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”

Mattias had tilted his head back, eyes on the ceiling. Elliott had seen it plenty of times in meetings with clients and in court. It was how he looked when he was thinking deeply about how to proceed. About what to say next and, importantly, how to say it to get to the heart of the issue. Elliott took a sip of champagne, literally for something to do, before Mattias dropped his eyes back to her. “Would you behave differently in this case because of the attraction to her?”

Elliott didn’t hesitate. She didn’t need to. “No, definitely not.”

He nodded, running a hand over his beard. “Okay. And would you drag the matter out to the detriment of your client just so you could see her?”

Elliott barked out a laugh. “I’d be over the moon if I could get this over with quickly for Matilda. So no.”

Mattias shrugged. “Then I don’t think there is a problem right now.”

“But—”

Mattias held up a hand, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not done.” Elliott nodded, scooting back in her spot on the sofa and running her fingers up and down the stem of her glass. “The rules don’t say that there can’t be an attraction to opposing counsel,” he began. Some of the weight that had crushed Elliott’s shoulders for over a week lifted. Not all the way, but enough that her breath came easier. “Where you might have trouble with the rules is if something happens or could happen that crosses over into an intimate personal relationship.” He paused, edges of his mouth pulling down, just visible under his beard. “Especially if you believe your judgment is affected.” He shrugged. “Then you need to come to me, and do it early, and we’ll get you off the file.”

For the first time in days Elliott took a deep breath and it actually satisfied her aching lungs. “All right. So what is happening now is okay?”

Mattias nodded, taking another sip of his champagne. “I think so. I trust you, and I trust that you’ll come to me if the biological attraction turns into anything more, uh”—he smirked—“tangibly biological.” He winked, and Elliott promptly choked on her sip of champagne.

She swallowed and, eyes watering, gasped in a breath. “Right, got it. It’s unlikely, but thank you.”

Mattias leaned forward, his big hand landing on her knee. “Everything’s okay, kiddo. Just keep lines of communication open, okay?”

She nodded and swallowed around the lump that seemed to want to live in her throat at the moment. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to find a colleague and a friend quite like him in a notoriously competitive profession filled with assholes, but she was fucking grateful. Right then, she vowed that she wouldn’t do a single fucking thing to disappoint him.

With another smile, he heaved himself up off the couch. “All right, let’s get back in there; otherwise I’m going to be in the doghouse on my own birthday.”

FIFTEEN

ELLIOTT

Exactly a month after the initial phone call with Mackenzie, Elliott’s inbox finally chimed with the email she’d been anxiously anticipating—an offer from Anna.

And Elliott would be damned if it wasn’t fucking reasonable. And if her little gay heart didn’t flutter in her chest like it had grown wings at the sight of Mackenzie’s name. God, she was so fucked.

Shaking herself out of it, Elliott hit forward on the email and sent it to Matilda, copying in Hannah. She explained to Matilda what, based on the case law, the court would order, and noted that the offer from Anna was pretty close. Basically, if Matilda wanted to move on with her life, this was a good way to do it. Otherwise, they could go back and push for more, but how much Anna would give was a mystery. She told Matilda to phone her on Monday if she wanted to discuss.

A thrill ran through Elliott as she hit forward again and sent the offer to Mattias. Nothing in the body of the email except FYI. Not a minute later, Mattias responded with a string of party-hat-and-streamer emojis accompanying many rainbows.

Elliott snorted out a laugh before she closed the lid on her laptop and unplugged it from the monitor. She was floating and was about to float her way out of the office for the day when the phone on her desk rang. Reception was calling her. Frowning, she picked up the receiver.

“Elliott, there’s someone out at reception for you.”

Elliott sighed. The new receptionist, Hallie, was lovely, but, Christ, she needed some work. It was the small things. Like remembering to get the person’s name. And when she was taking a message, remembering to write down the details of the message. And the number to call the person back on. “Does this someone have a name?” she asked gently.

An embarrassed chuckle from the poor girl. “Yes, sorry, it’s Mackenzie Williams.”

Elliott’s stomach swooped, and her vision went a little black around the edges. “Okay.” Elliott cleared her throat and sucked in a breath around the fluttering that had reignited in her chest. “I’ll be right out.”

When Elliott reached the reception area, she stopped in her tracks. Mackenzie was sitting at one end of the brown leather sofas, flicking through an issue of National Geographic from what appeared to be the turn of the new millennium, manicured brows raised in mild interest.

She sat with one long leg crossed over the other, tailored slacks riding slightly above one ankle, and one stiletto hung off the end of her toes, almost ready to fall off entirely, before she flicked it back onto her foot at the last minute with a flex of her calf. Her nails were painted charcoal—almost black, and her blouse hung low enough that Elliott could see a hint of lace. Elliott’s knees went weak with the pleasant flip of her stomach, and she compensated by dropping an elbow onto the raised counter of the reception desk and leaning into it.

Elliott cleared her parched throat, and Mackenzie glanced up, flicking the magazine closed. Her eyes softened with a smile that pulled her mouth wide, showing all her pearly-white teeth. Like fucking Julia Roberts.

“Hi,” she said, far too softly, in Elliott’s opinion.