“What’s to think about?”
“A lot. Aside from the fact that his firm doesn’t exactly do family law, I just don’t know how I’d feel working for him.”
“That isn’t what you’ve wanted? To work at the firm your father started?” I inquired.
She looked off, frowning. “When I first started law school, it was to prove I could do it. But then, I fell in love with it. I didn’t need to prove to my father or anyone else that I was a lawyer, because I justknewit. I don’t do my job for anyone else anymore. I do it because it’s my passion.”
I ran my fingers across my lower lip, considering her words. Then a thought came to me. “But are you thinking of turning down your father’s offer as a way to get back at him?”
Her head shot back over to me.
Bullseye.
“Just a thought.”
Moments later, the pilot made the announcement that we were beginning our final descent into D.C. The conversation about joining her father’s law firm was put on hold, but I planned to pick it back up eventually.
Thirty minutes later, we were in the car being driven to theHay-Adams Hotelwhere we’d be staying. There was little downtime, because as soon as our driver pulled off and we reached our room, my phone rang. My assistant, who’d come up a day ahead of me, was calling to confirm my six-thirty dinner appointment and an after-dinner business meeting with a budding entrepreneur out of Atlanta who was looking to do a joint venture.
I gave Chanel an apologetic smile and went back to my impromptu phone meeting with my assistant. After pulling out my tablet, I scrolled through the emails he’d sent me and notes he’d added to the opening scheduled for the following evening. My thoughts remained occupied by work as we pulled up to the hotel.
“I’m going to go to the gym for a little bit to hit the treadmill, stretch out my legs, and let you get some work done before we head out to dinner,” Chanel said, pulling a pair of yoga pants and T-shirt from her bag.
I paused, staring at the exposed portion of her thighs in the navy pleated skirt she wore. “How you know I didn’t want to help you stretch out your legs?” I tugged her by the arm, pulling her into me. She laughed and wrapped her arm around my waist, but as soon as she did, my phone started buzzing again. I groaned, knowing I needed to answer that call, but hating having to at the same time. For once, I found myself more concerned with a woman than my business.
“You need to get that.” She pulled back, pivoting to pick up my phone from the dresser, and handed it to me. “I’ll see you in a little while.” She rose on her tiptoes, and I bent to brush my lips over hers at the same time I pressed the button to answer my phone.
“Yeah, Bryce, hang on,” I huffed, eyeing Chanel as she changed into her workout attire right in front of me. My lower abdomen tightened as she exposed her flesh, but that little flame was quickly extinguished when she covered it again with the pants and T-shirt. I watched as she glanced over her shoulder, winked at me, and sauntered out of the room.
I got plans for that ass later.
“X, you there?” My assistant, Bryce, called my name.
I ran my hand down the side of my face. “Yeah man, I’m here. Tell me more about this Scott and Walton deal.”
As I fired up my laptop to pull up the contract, a part of my mind was still on Chanel. I’d wanted to spend as much time with her as possible that weekend. I knew she could easily find things to keep herself occupied. She’d already made plans to meet up with a former classmate for lunch the next day. The opening was two nights away, and I still needed to get organized for that. Despite the work I needed to do, though, I wasn’t about to let this weekend get away from us without spending some quality time with my woman. I didn’t ask her to come with me just to be an accessory at a club opening for a night. I rubbed the top of my head as I considered what we could get into the next evening, just she and I.
“Bryce, when we hang up, I need you to make a reservation atThe Sourcefor tomorrow at six.”
“That may be a problem. It’s kind of short notice and that place is usually hopping on weekends.”
“I know the head chef. Make it happen.” I wasn’t in the mood to hear the wordno.Bryce must’ve picked up on that from my tone, because there was no more protest. We moved on and talked more about the weekend and other work projects I had going on before hanging up. I barely noticed how long I’d been on the phone with Bryce until I heard the door to our suite opening.
Moments later, a glistening Chanel appeared at the entrance of the bedroom, winded, using a hotel towel to wipe her forehead.
I let my eyes lazily peruse her plush body, from the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist that flared out to hips I knew were perfect for gripping while I thrust in and out of her warm, wet channel.
“I thought you weren’t much for working out?” I questioned to rid myself of the thoughts in my head. They were causing my dick to swell, and I still needed to get a few things done before I could put my full attention on her.
She gave me a grin, wrapping the towel around her neck and strutting over to her luggage. “Usually I’m not, but I like to hit the treadmill or go for a walk after traveling to unwind a little. You get some work done?” she asked, switching topics.
“Most of what I needed. Still got some shit to handle before dinner.” My phone buzzed just then. It was Bryce, alerting me that the reservation atThe Sourcehad been made for the following evening at six-fifteen.
“What’s got you frowning at your phone?”
“Bryce,” I grunted. “I asked him to make a reservation atThe Sourcetomorrow night for six and the message he just sent says it’s for six-fifteen.” I shook my head.
“And?” she retorted.
