“Have you always been this arrogant? Wait, I don’t need to ask that. I already know the answer,” she shipped back.
“Why shouldn’t I be arrogant? Why shouldn’t I be proud of myself? I have done a lot for a man my age. I have had a lot of success,” I said.
“You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth,” she said. “You have led a privileged life. Your father was rich; he paid for your education. He got you sent to a good law school. He established a law firm. All you did was take it over. Without all those privileges, you wouldn’t be where you are. Fate dealt you a good hand, that’s all.”
“My father might have laid the foundation, but I built it up,” I said.
“Because you had the money, the time, and the luxury to do so,” she said. “Even your father was born into a rich family. You say this success is yours, but would you really be where you are if fate hadn’t been so kind? Do you realize one twist of fate, and you could be where I am? Actually, I am in a better place. One twist of fate, and you could be one of the homeless on the street. You are no one. Just a result of fate’s kindness, that’s all.”
I should have been offended by what she was saying, but I wasn’t. Instead, I couldn’t help but think about what she said.
“Why do you think fate is kind to one and not the other?” I asked.
“Darned if I know,” she whispered. “I have never understood fate. I questioned it. I questioned everything about it. I wondered why fate would throw me down the path it did. Why fate made me meet that man…”
She shook her head and forced a smile on her face.
“Why fate made me meet Stella,” I found myself whispering, and then instantly regretted it. She didn’t ask me anything about her, though, and I was relieved. Instead, she reached out and took my hand in hers before softly squeezing it. I looked down at her hand clasping mine, and my heart felt a rush of emotions. The kind of emotions I had been running from for the past few years. I looked up, and her warm eyes met mine, and my heart swelled.
I hardened the walls around my heart. I wouldn’t fall for her. I couldn’t. This was just fun, and that’s all it would be.
Chapter 13
Coffee and Muffin Routine
Hillary Beck
The shot rang out loudly, and I winced.
“You keep missing the target,” he said. “You have to keep your hand steady.”
“When you said you have something interesting planned,” I shouted over the noise, “I didn’t know you meant a shooting range!”
“It’s fun, isn’t it?” he said.
“It’s noisy,” I replied, as he took aim and fired out ten bullets, all of which hit the target.
“Don’t be a wuss!” he smirked, and I rolled my eyes.
He came behind me and took my hands in his before correcting my stance and helping me aim at the target. He was giving me tips that might help, but I was barely listening. All I could think of was his body pressed against mine, and his scent entrancing my senses. I remembered last night, after our café date, when we had gone back to his place. Our bodies writhing together under the blankets, the waves of passion that rolled over me as he took me again and again. I felt my heartbeat increase as the memory flashed before my eyes, and I felt myself desiring him desperately. His hands were touching mine, and I remembered how they had made me feel. The waves of ecstasy that had rolled over me as his hands had traced me.
The ringing of the shots pulled me from the land of memories.
“See?” he said. “If you correct your posture and aim well, you can hit the target.”
I only nodded, not able to say anything. He smiled at me and said, “Plus, now you will be able to defend yourself. If he ever finds you again.”
So that’s why he had brought me here. He had arranged this so I would stand a fighting chance if Joe ever found me again. I looked into his eyes, and my heart melted into a puddle.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Wouldn’t want you dying on me,” he said, looking away. “Don’t want to go through the hassle of training another secretary.”
He really was something else.
∞∞∞
“Here is your coffee,” I said, placing it on his desk. “Here is your bagel, and I have already put the case files on your desk.”
