I shake my head. “I find it professionally interesting, that’s all. Now, I have briefs to review.”
“Interesting choice of words.” His voice drops lower. “I’ve never known you to hide from the truth.”
My spine stiffens. “And I’ve never known you at all, Mr. Singleton.”
“Are you sure we?—”
A sharp rap at the door cuts him off. “Minji? You in there?”
Jasmyn’s voice feels like a life preserver thrown to a drowning woman.
“Yes, come in!” The words tumble out too eagerly as Aaron retreats to a respectable distance.
The door swings open. Jasmyn freezes mid-step, her eyes bouncing between us like a tennis match. “Oh! Sorry to interrupt.” Her perfectly arched eyebrow rises. “Should I come back later?”
“No need,” I interject too quickly. “Mr. Singleton was just leaving.”
Aaron retreats toward the door, his gaze locked on mine with each backward step. “I look forward to resuming ourliterary analysis, Counselor.” His emphasis on ‘literary analysis’ sends a flutter through my core. “Perhaps over dinner this evening?”
“My calendar’s full.”
“Is that the truth? Or are you simply avoiding the conclusion of chapter?—”
“The door’s that way, Mr. Singleton.” My cheeks burn traitorously.
A low laugh escapes him as he finally breaks our staring contest. “Until next time. Good morning, Ms. Park.”
Jasmyn exchanges pleasantries with him before he disappears behind the closing door.
She fans herself with her folder, eyes wide. “So that’s him? The guy behind all those books that make middle-aged book clubs blush?”
“The very same,” I mutter, reaching for my phone. Damn it. My phone’s hostage in his designer jeans.
“The photos don’t do him justice.” She drops a manila folder on my desk with a soft thwack. “I actually came to complain about that ridiculous calendar shoot, but clearly you’ve got better drama brewing.”
I massage my temples. “God, is that this week already?” Every December, Parras Law releases its staff calendar—Caleb’s brainchild from five years ago that refuses to die. Twelve employees, twelve months. Everyone else displays theirs proudly; mine make an annual pilgrimage to my mother’s house in Seoul, where she hangs them in the kitchen to show off to her mahjong group.
“I forgot to give you back your phone.” Aaron opens my door, stepping back inside, holding my phone between his fingers like it’s a prize.
“Thank you.” I extend my hand.
“Always my pleasure.” He places the phone in my palm, his fingers lingering against mine for a second longer than necessary.
Jasmyn clears her throat, reminding us both of her presence. The amusement in her eyes is obvious as she backs toward the door. “I’ll leave you two to?—”
“He was just leaving as well. I will see you the day after tomorrow,” I remind him.
He nods, gesturing to Jasmyn to leave first, and he follows behind her, leaving me alone in my office. My phone chimes, and I think it’s Demi, but it’s a text message from Aaron. Of course, he would save his number in my phone. As an attorney, you would think I would be smart enough to add a passcode, but as someone who uses her laptop more than her cellphone… a passcode truly isn’t needed. But now, yeah, it is.
Aaron
When you get to ch 20 and need someone to talk to, here is my number.
I should block his number immediately. It’s the professional thing to do, the sensible thing. Instead, I find myself debating changing his contact from Aaron to A.S.—just initials, as if that creates some distance between us, as if that makes this somehow less inappropriate. I’ll leave it for now because I’m sure he and I won’t be texting on a regular. I toss my phone into my desk drawer like it’s suddenly turned hot in my hands. Out of sight, out of mind.
Except it’s not out of my mind. Not even close.
CHAPTER 6
