Now, I’m starting to get confused because are we talking about my dad’s case, or the fact that I was finger-fucked by Brent Gibson yesterday? The noise from the café ratchets up, and for a moment it feels like the whole world’s clamoring and raucous. I glance at the people in line, the barista banging grounds into the bin, the guy behind us shouting into a headset. Nobody’s listening, but I feel naked still.
Eliza taps the rim of her mug. “So what now?”
I tell her about the dinner invitation. “Brent wants me to come over for dinner tonight, and it’s not just that. James Grant is going to be there, so it’s both of them.”
Eliza stares at me, mouth agape. “Both? Like, as in?—”
“Yeah.”
She laughs, but there’s an edge to it. “Marnie, you realize you’re about to get double-teamed by your dead father’s lawyers, right?”
My ears burn so hard I think they’re going to combust. “I’m not… I mean, I don’t know.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “You are in seriously hot water,mamacita. I honestly think you’ll be expected to take them both, like spit-roasted in the dirtiest way possible. But do you trust them?”
I think about it. The way Brent looked at me. The way James’s emails made my stomach clench. The raw, electric force of them together makes my pussy weep, even in the busy atmosphere of the cafe.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I want to, which is probably the stupidest thing ever. Seriously, slap some sense in me. I’m begging you, girlfriend. Just do it before I go insane.”
My new pal merely smiles and rolls her eyes. But then she reaches for my hand again, this time gripping hard. “Just promise me something, Marn. Don’t lose yourself in this. If it gets ugly, walk away.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my lip trembling.
Eliza purses her lips, choosing her words carefully.
“Listen. I don’t know what Mr. Gibson and Grant are like behind closed doors, but I hear rumors. They’re alpha males who are intense. Competitive, even. Brutal in bed. You get the picture. They’re sharks in the courthouse, but also in their private lives, and they steamroll every woman they desire.”
I smile, weak. “Yeah, I got that.”
She shakes her head.
“You think you can handle them?”
“I think I have to because how will I get information about my dad from them otherwise?”
Eliza squeezes my hand again, then lets go. “I don’t know, Marnie. I guess this is the only way.”
I shake my head and then take another sip of my water before smiling at Eliza brightly.
“You know, we haven’t even ordered yet, and I just realized I’m not hungry. I’m going to go back to the office and get some work done. Is that okay with you? We can catch up later, maybe around three for a coffee break?”
The other paralegal nods, sensing my need to be alone.
“Of course, Marn.” She hugs me, whispering, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say with a rueful smile and then turn to the door. When I step back onto the street, I feel lighter and heavier at the same time. The air is cold, sharp enough to sting my lungs, but I walk with my head up. I made a promise, and I plan to keep it. Even if I have to walk straight into the lion’s den.
Tonight, I’ll be honest.
And I’ll find out if the wolves bite harder when they hunt together.
I don’t even gettwo steps out of the café before I realize I’ve left my phone sitting on the table, screen-up with the dinner invitation in full view. I double back, cursing my idiot brain, and find Eliza grinning at the text like a cat with a half-dead mouse.
“Wear sexy lingerie?” she stage-whispers, brandishing my phone like it’s radioactive. “I couldn’t help but see, girlfriend. I swear, I wasn’t spying.”
I snatch it back, my cheeks going red. “It’s just underwear,” I hiss, like that’s going to convince anybody. “Everyone wears it. So what if it’s lacy?”
Eliza merely smiles, this time dropping her voice to a low purr. “A private dinner, Marnie. With both of them. At their apartment. Spit-roast. Double-teamed. Sandwiched.”
