#1 Rival Page 2

“It’s not about knowing, it’s about proving. And when I establish that the marriage was over, regardless of them sharing a roof, she will have her amended date. One that puts him out of reach of a claim on the new patent.”

  “Excellent, Roman, sounds like someone paid attention in law school. You can take point. Lauren, you’re his back up. I want you both to go through the files and give me something solid by nine a.m. tomorrow in time for Jana Cane, who will be in my office by ten. So, if you have any plans tonight, cancel them.”

  Perfect. Just freaking perfect. Not only had Daniel given him the lead—me relegated to second chair—but I was going to have to spend all day and who knew how much of the night, with Roman’s conceited, ego-inflated ass. Not to mention that I did have plans. It was the first date I’d agreed to in weeks, and I was looking forward to spending a night in the company of someone whose existence I didn’t despise.

  “Great.” I forced the smile, the words tight against my clenched jaw. “We won’t let you down.”

  As much as I hated all of it—Roman, having to change my plans, and falling short on impressing Daniel—I loved my job more. And I would do whatever I had to in order to succeed.

  Even if it meant spending time with assholes who needed personality transplants.

  “I know you won’t.” Daniel straightened his jacket as he stood. “It’s why the two of you are earning more than any other junior associate has in the history of this firm. So get to work.” His parting words serving as a goodbye as he strode to the door and left us there.

  “Don’t look so thrilled, Harper.” Roman laughed, his enjoyment over the situation annoying me further. “We both know you had nothing better to do tonight.”

  Ugh. I hated him.

  Hated him.

  “I did have plans,” I sneered at him, annoyed it was barely ten a.m. and already he was getting under my skin. I was better than this, and yet, I couldn’t stop myself as he turned and looked at me with interest.

  “Let me guess?” His weighted stare made me feel uncomfortable, his gaze fixed on me. He stopped, narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to look inside my head. “You and your cat have a standing date. You sit in yoga pants, order take-out, watch television and then take Buzzfeed quizzes about which character you’d be on Game of Thrones.” He smiled with such satisfaction it made my skin heat.

  Hated. Him.

  “I think you’re confusing your plans for the evening with mine. I actually had a date. You know, with a real person. And someone I don’t have to pay or who doesn’t require inflation.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, his voice bouncing off the walls as he took a minute to compose himself. “First you accuse me of screwing paralegals and now I need to pay women to date me. So which is it, Harper? Am I a whore or a desperate deviant?” His lips twitched as he waited for me to answer.

  Why couldn’t he be like any reasonable man? Taken the insult or flung another my way. Instead he seemed to remember everything I’d ever said to him and kept it in his back pocket, throwing it out at just the right time to make me feel stupid.

  “You can be both.” I met his eye, refusing to back down. “Neither is mutually exclusive.”

  He stood, his tall muscular body coming to full height as he strode slowly to where I was sitting. “That’s weak and you know it.” His hot breath tickled my ear as he lowered his head, bringing his lips closer to my ear. “But it’s interesting how much thought you give my sex life.”

  I swallowed, not willing to admit exactly how much I thought about him and sex. The truth was, if he didn’t open that know-it-all mouth of his and I didn’t know him—or if I’d had amnesia and could wipe out what I did—I would be more than just interested.

  Everything about him was sex personified. He belonged on the cover of a magazine, or in the movies—head to toe oozing some unquantifiable levels of attraction. But it was going to take more than just an amazing face to forget he was an arrogant, self-centered and cocky asshole.

  A Praying Mantis had the right idea, mating and then eating the male. It sure would simplify the morning after.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Roman. I don’t care about anything in your life.” I lied through my teeth. “So, if you’re done posturing maybe we can get started. A judge isn’t going to just take your word for it on when the marriage ended. You’re going to need proof.”

  “Oh, I’ll get my proof, Harper.” His body leaned forward, a sexy waft of cologne invading my nose. “I don’t intend to come out of this any other way than on top.”

  The case.

  He meant the case, I reminded myself even though his grin suggested otherwise.

  “Funny. That’s where I like to be too.”

  And unlike him, I wasn’t sure in what context I meant that statement.

  HOURS.

  It had taken me literally hours combing through the Cane file trying to establish a feasible timeline. Roman had found receipts for two personal trips Jana had taken on her own prior to the official separation date, but we needed more. Basically, we had to prove they’d been living separate lives for two years, rather than just the last twelve months. Our job made harder by a shared bank account that would make Sawyer Cane’s lawyers get a hard-on.

  My feet had started to hurt as I paced in my heels, the noise from surrounding offices quieting as people went home for the evening. But instead of me grabbing my handbag and checking out like they were, I was stuck in the large glass box that served as one of the boardrooms.

  The black marker tapped at my lips as I stared at the large whiteboard in front of me. I was a visual person and worked better when things were laid out so I could see them. It also didn’t hurt that the squeak of the marker against the surface of the board drove Roman insane, and that I had perfected just the right angle for maximum squeak.

  “Why don’t you take them off?” Roman’s voice echoed from behind me.

  “Excuse me?” I turned around, glaring at him as he casually loosened his tie.

  “The shoes.” He pointed down at my feet. “It’s obvious they’re pissing you off, and it’s not like there’s anyone around left to see.”

  A quick scan through the glass revealed that we were probably the only ones left. The light from our boardroom spilled into an otherwise dark hall.

  “Not that I need your permission, but I’d prefer to leave them on.” I turned back to my board, twisting my long brown hair into a knot at the base of my neck. I’d always wanted bouncy, curly hair, but instead I was gifted with a mane of thick, straight strands. And right now, their weight on my scalp was annoying me as much as my feet and Roman.

  “Why? To prove a point?” He barked out a laugh as I ignored him, my marker squeaking down another date. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything and take off the damn shoes.”

  “No.” I turned, my eyes hitting his chest, his body closer than it had been a minute ago. “Because I don’t want to.”

  My refusal hadn’t been solely because it had been his suggestion, although I’ll admit, that was a consideration too. It was because, in addition to my lack of light and bouncy locks, I had also come up short in the height department. And I do mean literally.

  At a stretch, I was five-foot-three, which meant in order to not look like I was still in high school, I needed an extra couple of inches.

  Ha, wasn’t that a disappointment I’d faced on more than one occasion. And in this instance, I wasn’t just talking about my height.

  “Fine.” Roman reached across to my hand and uncurled my fingers, the marker that had been housed there, taken from my grasp. “But if you write one more thing on that board, it’s not going to be your sore feet that are going to be an issue.”

  “Touchy. Maybe you should take off your shoes.” I folded my arms across my chest as I watched him stride back to the table. The offending marker was tossed aside, his hand reaching for his phone.

  “I’m ordering dinner, what do you want?” He fingered the glass as he waited
for my reply.

  “Shit. What time is it?” I looked around wondering where I’d put my phone, the wall clock obscured by the whiteboard.

  I assumed it was late but didn’t know exactly how late. Six o’clock? Six thirty? It wouldn’t be later than seven surely. I was supposed to meet Gavin at seven thirty; it had totally escaped my mind to call him and cancel. Hopefully I could catch him before he left. It was still short notice, but at least I could save him the trip.

  “Eight thirty, why?” Roman deadpanned.

  “Crap. I need to make a call.”

  Great, now I was one of those women who stood men up in bars and gave them lame-ass excuses like I’d lost track of the time. It didn’t help that lost track of time was the truth.

  “Oh, that’s right.” He snapped his fingers, a grin spreading across his lips. “Your date.”

  I didn’t miss the inflection on the word, nor the sarcasm. And while he had assumed my plans had been fictional or exaggerated—I didn’t own or even like cats—they had been with a living, breathing human who hadn’t deserved my rudeness.

  “Not that it is any of your business,” I snapped, irrationally feeling like part of this had been his doing. “But I did have an actual date. He is a nice guy too.”

  Unlike the man I was currently with, Gavin was a decent man. He wasn’t boastful, was more comfortable in jeans and a T-shirt, and worked in tech support for a data recovery firm in Pasadena. And while I had met him on a dating website—save the eye roll, there is literally nowhere in the city where you can meet a decent guy these days—we had sort of clicked. He was one of the few guys I’d met in the last couple of years who hadn’t run for the hills the minute I mentioned I was a lawyer. And tonight we were supposed to be meeting face-to-face for the first time.

  “Sure he is.” Roman looked amused as he lost interest in his phone and our dinner order and turned his attention to me. “Does he know you weren’t into him and using him to pass the time?”

  “What?” I stopped fumbling with my phone, my eyes snapping up to meet his. “You have no idea what you are talking about.”

  I glared at him. Even for Roman this was a new low.

  “Really?” He laughed, tilting his head to the side as he folded his arms across his chest. “You had a date with some nice guy who you barely give a second thought to except when I bring up dinner. I’d say the precedent has already been set, and not in his favor.”

  “It’s new, we’re just getting to know each other.” I had no idea why I felt the need to defend myself, but I did.

  He was so wrong.

  So wrong.

  I had been distracted.

  Too busy trying to dig us out of an impossible hole when it had been him who implied to Daniel it was going to be a walk in the park. He should be thanking me, getting down on his knees and showing all kind of gratitude that I didn’t fight him on what deep down I knew was a bad idea.

  But does he do that? Nooooooo. Instead, he speculates on my personal relationships, which he knows nothing about.

  “You are wrong.” I said it out loud for the first time even though it had been echoing around my head. “I am interested.”

  And damn him and his oozy confident smile. I wanted to take his tie that hung loose around his neck and choke him with it. That would end all his stupid and inaccurate speculation.

  “Please, save yourself the time.” He continued to laugh as he straightened. “If you’d given two shits about Mr. Nice Guy, you would have picked up the phone the minute you knew we had to work late. And if he were in there with at least half a chance, you wouldn’t have scheduled a date on a Monday. Who even does that?”

  Anger spiked inside of me. “You know what, Roman. Screw you.”

  It wasn’t a good comeback. And if the smile on his face was anything to go by, he knew he’d won the round. It was dumb, so childish, and I should have just ignored him. Instead, I let his words eat at me like they always did.

  Why? Why did I care what he thought? He was a nobody. He had literally zero impact on my life other than I had to tolerate him at work. And yet, here I was, tossing schoolyard taunts at him because I couldn’t think of anything better to say.

  Damn him.

  DAMN. HIM.

  “Great. Screw me? Wow, Harper.” He clapped, leaning back on his heels. “You should remember that for our closing statement. Passionate pleas always impress the jury. In other news, you haven’t said one thing that convinces me I’m wrong. And you know what, it doesn’t even matter. Don’t prove me wrong; it’s not about me. But be honest with yourself. Now, what do you want for dinner? I’m hungry.” He picked up his phone and waved it in the air.

  I couldn’t believe him.

  He was a machine, incapable of any human emotion and/or empathy. Completely cold. A shell. And now he wanted me to sit and eat dinner with him? I didn’t even know where to begin with it. And more infuriating than all of that, I was absolutely livid I hadn’t just told him to mind his own business and that he knew he had gotten to me.

  Slowly the breath escaped my lips as I tried to control my temper. He wanted me to keep going. It gave him a sick satisfaction, and I wasn’t giving him any more than I already had.

  “Whatever you want.” I picked up my phone, affixing a smile to my lips as I moved to the door. “I’m not very hungry anyway, and I need to make this call.” I walked out the door before he could say another word.

  Cursing under my breath, I walked down the hall to my small office. Calling it an office was seriously overstating, it was more like a closet with a desk. But at least I was no longer in a bullpen, the “office” affording me privacy when I needed it, especially for a time like now.

  Gavin’s number hadn’t even been entered into my phone yet, me needing to pull out a notebook I’d scribbled it on before I could dial it. It was so late, I wasn’t even sure he was going to accept the call.

  “Hello?” Gavin answered after only the second ring.

  “Hey, Gavin, it’s Lauren.” My fingers rubbed nervously at my forehead. “I am so sorry. I’m still at work and . . .” I looked around realizing Roman was right. I should have called the minute I knew I would have to work late. And maybe I was so mad at him because he was right. Nice-guy Gavin hadn’t been a priority. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, it happens. Lawyer hours, right?” He laughed, maintaining the good-guy persona even though he would have been justified to drop it. “You want to try for some other time?”

  No. I should have said.

  You are a nice guy who would probably make a great boyfriend. But there’s no spark and I know I picked you because you are safe. Also something I should have said.

  “It’s just a really crazy time at work right now, and I don’t know when it’s going to stop.”

  It was a half-truth. A brush off, which was kinder than the other alternatives.

  “Well, okay then.” I could hear the disappointment in his voice. “You know my number if you change your mind.”

  “Yes, of course.” I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t be calling him. “And sorry again about tonight.”

  “It’s fine. Goodnight.”

  Nice until the end, he waited for me to say my goodbye before he hung up. Defeated, tired and hungry—I’d lied when I’d told Roman I wasn’t—I sunk into my office chair and let my head drop into my hands. I just needed a minute before I suited up in armor again and went out there and ripped his head off.

  Like a Praying Mantis.

  Except, there would be no sex.

  Taking one final breath, I pushed myself out of my seat and walked back to the boardroom.

  Roman was sitting, the fabric of his business shirt stretched across his broad shoulders as he hunched over the table reading a file. There were two glasses of amber liquid in tumblers to his side that hadn’t been there before.

  “I ordered pizza,” he said without looking up. “And I raided Daniel’s desk, found a bottle of Glenlivet. Don’t get too excited, it’s
only a twelve-year-old. Who knew he was such a cheap bastard? At least it’s a single malt.” Blue eyes met mine as he picked up the glass and brought it to his smiling lips.

  What the hell?

  I had to wonder if he hadn’t necked half the bottle while I was gone. It was like he had completely forgotten the previous conversation, the one where he’d been rude and presumptuous, and was now talking about scotch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  He was infuriating.

  “Glare at me all you want, Harper.” He took another sip. “But maybe you can multitask while you look at the property title I found. Seems Ms. Cane had an investment apartment in her portfolio that’s been vacant for three years. Property taxes are all up to date and the notation from the realtor indicated that it isn’t to be leased. Ms. Cane likes to have a workspace away from her office. I’m sure if I questioned her about it, she’s probably spent a night or two there too. It’s enough to establish the separation was earlier than reported. At least with the supporting evidence we’ve got.”

  “And you know about the office how?” I temporarily shelved my annoyance and anger, curious how he’d come to be the all-seeing, all-knowing oracle of all things Jana Cane, considering he hadn’t even know her name twenty-four hours ago.

  “I found the title and called the realtor.” He laughed. “Those sons-of-bitches will take calls any time if they think there is a buck in it. They’re worse than us. And I happen to know Vanessa.” He lowered his glass. “She was most helpful in providing information.”

  He didn’t need to tell me how he knew her either. His stupid grin was all I needed to surmise they had probably fucked. I’m sure she probably showed him a condo, and then he screwed her up against the glass as they admired the beautiful view. Asshole.

  “I’m sure she was helpful.” I strolled over to the table and took a seat opposite him. “Well, that seems like a win for us.” I took a sip from my glass, the scotch hot as it traveled down my throat.

  “No thank you, Roman?” He picked up his drink, hiding his grin behind the rim of the glass. “I’d have thought you would have been more appreciative.”