“Would you like me to represent you?” I try to keep her on track but she’s on a roll.
“Two years! Can you believe it?”
“You must have loved your husband very much.”
Her eyes go wide and I can see how the blacks are too wide from whatever she’s on. “Are you kidding me? That louse? That lowlife, piece of crap, cheating dirtbag, awful… did I say cheater?”
I can’t help but chuckle at her lack of useful curse words. “So, I guess he’s not the reason for your celibacy.”
“Nope.” She shakes her very cute, higher than a kite, blond head. “You want to know why?”
An index finger crooks to motion me closer. “I need to whisper it to you. I don’t want anyone to hear.”
When I lean in, her breath smells sweet, not of alcohol. Before I can make a note of it, she has me by my tie, pulls my lips to hers, and kisses me.
I could’ve pulled away. I should have. Maybe if she wasn’t so damn beautiful, I would have. Generally, I am considered a fucking saint by family and friends. Maybe it’s because I’m still half asleep. Honestly? I have no idea why I kiss her back.
She’s not my client, I reason, not until she agrees to it.
The distinction is pretty lame but, in my defense, I got blindsided. Her kiss is sweet, insistent. Her lips are soft as they press into mine and she makes a little moan, the kind women do when they want so much more.
When our eyes meet, I get this kind of premonition and a chill goes down my back. Damn, what if she’s the one. My cock crams against my pants, my heart pounds in my ears and yet I pull away. If she is my soulmate, I need to get a grip. It’s fucked up I let it go this far.
“Ms. Giles. No more kissing, okay?” I unwrap her fingers from my tie and again, place them in her lap.
She looks as stunned as I feel. “Yeah. Okay. No more.”
“Good. First, do you have a dollar?”
“I don’t know. Do I?” Her eyes flick to a huge, ugly as sin, black leather bag with fringe.
When I hand it to her, her smile gets all devious again. “If I give you money, does it mean you stick around?”
“Yes. We should hurry.” The police hovering at the curtain make me nervous so I quickly help her with her wallet. There’s no bills so find three quarters, two dimes and five pennies. Paid in full, I pull a contract from my briefcase and have her sign before she changes her mind.
“As you may have noticed, I haven’t got any money. From the looks, your suit probably costs more than I make in a year.”
“We’ll work the numbers, later.” I heave a sigh of relief because the cops are arguing with some nurse right outside the curtain, insisting on speaking with my client.
Sienna hands back my pen and says, “I could pay you off by screwing your brains out…”
Great. The two officers who managed to bully their way to my client raise their brows in unison. Undaunted, I give my most professional smile and hand them my card.
“Can I help you?”
The older, a guy around thirty, steps forward and takes my offering. “We’d like to ask Ms. Giles a few questions.”
I block them by standing in front of her bed. “I’m afraid she’s incapacitated right now.”
The next question comes from the other cop, a uniformed woman about five-foot-five with olive skin and intelligent eyes. “Oh yeah? What were her toxicology results?”
“Hmm. Even if I knew, I couldn’t say. HIPAA privacy and all that.” I cross my arms over my chest and wonder how smart these two really are. They might push but I could easily get anything my client says thrown out in court.
“We can come back with a warrant.” The guy’s face gets red and his jaw tics but I’ve dealt with jerks like him before. They’re all bark and no bite.
“I suggest you do so. Until then, the law is on my side.”
The female officer tries to look around me with one last attempt. “Miss Giles. It’ll go easier if you cooperate.”
