“I wasn’t going to panic,” Zach lied. “Much.”
He was working himself up to smiling at his possible admirer when the phone in his back pocket vibrated. He pulled it out and looked at the screen, and he groaned with dismay when he saw the message.
“It looks like the DA’s office has finally decided to offer a plea deal on the Harris case, and the big boss isn’t answering his phone,” Zack told his friends. “Since I’m low man on the totem pole, I get to go pick up the paperwork and carry it to Caldwell’s house for him to look over.”
“Are you kidding?” Kevin looked affronted on Zach’s behalf. “Right now?”
“Yeah, right now.” Zach sighed. “Sorry about this, guys, but you know how work is.”
Kevin frowned. “Do you think it will take long? We could wait for you here.”
“I’m not sure.” Zach considered, then shook his head. “Better not hang around on my account, since it might take a couple of hours if I have to run paperwork back and forth.” He slid off his stool, pulled out his wallet, and dropped some cash on the table. “You guys have fun, though, okay? Maybe we can try again next weekend?”
“We’ll hold you to that,” Erik said, wagging a stern finger at him. “You need to put yourself out on the market. First step is the hardest.”
“That’s true.” Zach picked up his drink and drained the remainder. “Okay, I’m off to do my duty. I bet you Caldwell isn’t even home, but I don’t want to risk getting chewed out for not doing everything in my power to make sure he knows about the offer as soon as possible.”
Erik and Kevin nodded in understanding; one advantage of having other lawyers as friends was they could sympathize with the long and strange hours the job often required. Zach headed for the exit, all thoughts of his potential admirer driven from his mind as he considered what he would say to Asher Caldwell if the man was home. They’d never been formally introduced, and he didn’t want to make a bad first impression, but he’d probably get tongue-tied or stumble over his words like an idiot.
He caught a cab in front of the club and directed the driver to take him to the DA’s office and wait while he went inside. Once he’d signed for the thick envelope of papers, he returned to the cab and looked up Asher Caldwell’s address on the company’s app.
Asher lived in a penthouse apartment on Central Park West. After paying off the cab driver, Zach stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the building, wondering what it must have been like to grow up in such surroundings. The Caldwells were Old Money, and he’d heard Asher’s father had retired to the “family home” in the Hamptons with his fourth wife, a twentysomething fashion model.
He entered the building and was greeted by a security guard at a desk just inside the door. After he gave his name and explained he was from the firm, the guard waved him toward the elevators. Ten minutes later, he was standing in front of Asher Caldwell’s door, and he drew in a deep breath before pressing the buzzer.
Less than a minute later, the door swung open, and Zach found himself on the other end of a cool appraisal by an older woman wearing a conservative navy-blue dress and a crisp white apron. Her dark brown hair was turning gray, and she wore little makeup.
“Mr. Caldwell is expecting you,” she said, swinging the door open wider and moving aside so he could enter.
“Thank you,” Zach said as he stepped into the elegant foyer. “I hope he hasn’t been waiting long.”
“Not too long,” she replied as she gestured for him to follow. She led him into a sitting room with a huge picture window overlooking the park. The room was decorated with antique furniture, and Zach wondered if Asher had inherited it or bought it. “Have a seat. Mr. Caldwell will be with you shortly. May I get you something to drink while you wait?”
“No, thank you,” Zach replied, obediently sitting down on the edge of the elegant sofa. He put the manila envelope down on the coffee table, then folded his hands in his lap. “I’m fine, really.” It was hard not to fidget, but he told himself to be cool and not act like a total dork.
The housekeeper glanced at the envelope, and a questioning look flitted across her face, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she nodded and left him alone to wait for Asher. Fortunately, he didn’t have long to wait. No more than five minutes or so passed before Asher sauntered into the room. The difference between his professional persona and his appearance now was startling. Gone were the tailored suit and designer tie, replaced by faded jeans and a plain white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms and the top two buttons unfastened. His brown loafers were expensive, but far more casual than the Stefano Bemers and Louis Vuittons he wore to the office. His short black curls were tousled instead of styled, and he sported stubble on his sharp jawline. Asher’s blue eyes gleamed as he gave Zach an appreciative once-over, and he approached with a predatory roll in his gait.
“Well, well, look what a delectable new friend has turned up on my doorstep.”
If the sight of Asher looking like something out of one of his fantasies hadn’t already robbed Zach of the ability to breathe, the sexy walk and his words would have done it. Zach rose to his feet, cleared his throat, and managed by some miracle to find his voice.
“Hello, Mr. Caldwell,” he said, his tone low and husky. He held out his hand. “I’m Zach Richardson.”
Asher moved into Zach’s personal space as he clasped Zach’s hand, his gaze heated and intense. “Call me Asher,” he said, lifting Zach’s hand to his lips and brushing a kiss across his knuckles.
Zach froze, a jolt like an electrical current pulsing through him at the contact of Asher’s lips. Either he’d fallen asleep and was dreaming, or he’d died and gone to heaven, because there was no scenario he could imagine in the real world which would have gorgeous, untouchable Asher Caldwellkissing his hand.
“Asher,” he murmured. He was completely out of his depth, and he didn’t know what else to do.
“Mm, you’re a tall one.” Asher stepped even closer, until Zach could feel the warmth radiating from Asher’s body, and they were eye-to-eye. He’d never been close enough to realize they were the same height, and he’d always thought Asher was taller than his own six-foot-three, probably because of the confident way Asher carried himself. “I like that.”
He had no idea what was happening, but Zach decided to play along in case this was some kind of joke. After all, Asher would have no reason to know Zach was gay, so maybe he was trying to rattle the new guy. The paralegals in the firm were known pranksters, and they all adored Asher, so it was possible they’d put their boss up to it.
“Good thing I didn’t want to be a jockey,” he replied, managing a smile.
Asher’s answering chuckle was warm and deep, and his pale blue eyes were alight with amusement. “Indeed it is,” he said as he released Zach’s hand and slid one arm around Zach’s waist, closing what little distance remained between them until Zach was pressed against his lean, hard body. “We fit together well. Good, that should make things fun.”
If this was a joke, it had gone way, way too far. But Zach didn’t want to pull away, his traitorous body ignoring what his mind was telling him. He leaned against Asher, and when he raised his hands to push Asher away, they ended up sliding up to Asher’s shoulders instead. Kevin and Erik said he looked sexy, and there had definitely been admiration in the gaze of the blond man at the club. Maybe it was possible that Asher found him desirable too?
