Phil rolled his eyes dramatically and sighed hard enough to extinguish a forest fire. “I’ll see what I can do. By the way, this potential client is hot. You may need a cold drink to stop yourself burning up.”
“Professional, Phillip. That’s all we ask. Be professional.” I shook my head. He gave a knowing snort and exited, leaving me ankle deep in files.
Two minutes later and the knock at the door was followed immediately with it being opened. I’d just cleared about enough space when a familiar face and equally familiar mountain of body entered. I looked up: glasses, light brown hair with flecks of blonde, rough stubble and a tight, fitted shirt that did all kinds of good for those biceps.
“Payton, this is Owen Anders.” I shot him a look of distress. He started to close the door. “I’ll bring you coffee. And pastries.”
I didn’t thank him. “Good morning, Mr Anders,” I said, holding out my hand across my fairly cleared desk. “It’s nice to meet you.”
He accepted and shook my hand with a firm grip. “It’s good to meet you. I assume we’re pretending Saturday didn’t happen?”
I sat down. “It depends. If you admit you were an arse then I may try to forget about it.”
He folded his arms, not sitting down. I’d grown up with four older brothers, all of whom were much taller than me. I did not get intimidated by height. Nor was I intimidated by attractive men who had just the right amount of facial hair. “If I were an ass, what were you?”
“A woman you misjudged,” I said, tempted to fold my arms and mirror him. Instead, I looked down at the notepad on my desk and picked up my pen. “If you want legal advice then I’m more than happy to help. If not, skip on out of here and quit wasting my time.”
“Is that how you speak to all your potential clients?”
His arms were still bloody folded.
I sighed, more at the point he’d made than the arms, and stood up, offering my hand. “Good to meet you, Mr Anders. How can I help?”
His grin included fecking dimples. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms Callaghan. I have a legal issue I’m hoping you can assist me with.”
“Take a seat and go ahead.”
We both sat and I focused on his mouth, avoiding the biceps and dimples and the hair. I wasn’t in the market for a fling or relationship or having any sense of attraction to a potential client, but given that I had only just stopped my hand from playing with my hair, I knew I was automatically entering flirt mode.
“You’ve been in Cases,” he began and I nodded. “I started the first Cases six years ago, partly funded by my mother’s partner, David Melville. It’s grown since then and each shop is run as a separate business, so it is just the first store he has an interest in.”
His hand flicked through his hair making it look boyishly messy. I pulled my eyes back to his mouth, which was also a mistake. “Understood.”
“He wants me to buy him out. He’s split up from my mother and I figure he’s trying to sever all ties. I had this letter from his lawyer. He’s suggested a figure that is far more than I know he’s entitled to.” He passed me the letter.
I glanced through it, recognising it as a standard notice of dissolution, meaning that the partnership had to be wound up. The amount he suggested was eye watering considering this was a bookshop in a world of eBooks. “Okay. Was there an original partnership agreement?”
Owen shook his head. “No. While I wouldn’t say Dave’s been like a stepfather to me, he’s been a good role model and father figure to large extent.”
“Why did he and your mum split up?” I wasn’t sure it was an appropriate question to ask, but I asked it any way.
Owen looked up to the ceiling. “My mother decided that she was destined at this point in her life to be free and single. I have no idea why. She’s said very little about it. Dave probably deserves to be pissed off.”
I rolled back my shoulders, trying to loosen them up as discretely as I could. Three weeks of what felt like being permanently stationed at a desk and then the days in court meant that I should’ve invested in a few days off on a masseur’s table at some remote spa.
“Hot bath,” Owen said, looking at me curiously. “Himalayan bath salts. Then strong thumbs to unknot you.”
Visions of his hands navigating their way across my back and lower flashed in front of me and I sank a little deeper into my chair. “The bath sounds like a good idea.”
“Not the thumbs?” If my man sense was working properly he was flirting with me. But it wasn’t, and hadn’t been for some time.
“My thumbs won’t reach that far.”
Those dimples appeared, deepening as if to say ‘we know you’re single’ and I let my resting bitch face dominate. “Partnership Act eighteen ninety. There’s a partnership with no agreement. We need to start with getting Cases One valued. No doubt Mr Melville will want to do the same thing as he’s unlikely to trust the accountants you will use.”
Owen’s jaw clenched. “Fuck. I didn’t want this to get messy. Is there any other way to resolve this?”
I shrugged. “You can make him an offer you think is reasonable and see if he accepts.”
