“That being said, there’s a lot I don’t know. I don’t know what makes you start a foundation like RISE. I don’t know what your late night snack is or your favorite type of sushi. I don’t know what makes you laugh or smile or what little things drive you crazy. So, I might know a lot about your habits, but I want to know you. Hannah Crowley, the gorgeous, intelligent woman in front of me. That’s all.”
I pop a piece of bacon into my mouth trying to act like he didn’t just make the foundation of the wall I’ve built between us shaky. Nope, he most certainly did not.
“You so practiced that.” I sit up straight, letting my gaze fall from his because I’m about two seconds from launching myself over this table on top of him.
“I’m a lawyer, Hannah, half my cases are won from my ability to string together a series of meaningful sentences.”
I shake my fingers in the air, sipping my coffee. “Why do I feel like you have more to add?”
“That was just my opening statement. I have more to add.”
I playfully roll my eyes. “I can only imagine what you’re going to say now.”
He clears his throat. “I’ll make it short.”
“Short doesn’t seem like your style.”
He winks and it starts up the slow-burning hum between my legs.
“We’re here today to talk about Roarke Baldwin pursuing Hannah Crowley. Yes, he was the divorce attorney for her ex-husband. Yes, he did do what was in the best interest of his client. Yes, he had a private investigator follow Ms. Crowley to see if he could obtain any dirt on her. He wants an opportunity to get to know Hannah on a personal basis. He’s offered her a deal because Ms. Crowley would never agree to a date with him otherwise. I’m sure by the end of the five favors, Roarke Baldwin will prove how worthy he is of Hannah Crowley’s time. Whether it’s one date or a million. Whether he gets a kiss or something more. He thinks that by the end of this period, court will see his side of this case.”
“What could that possibly be?” The light humor in my voice surprises me.
“That Roarke Baldwin really is a good guy.” He smiles so wide double dimples crease his cheeks.
I practically melt into his expensive dining chair.
“Good luck with the judge,” I comment, forking a helping of quiche into my mouth to stop myself from doing something stupid.
“I think the judge is softening a little bit.”
“The judge thinks you’re full of shit,” I reply.
His only response is another chuckle that tells me I’m going to need to up my game if I want to come out of this one a winner.
Chapter Ten
“You had to actually sleep in his bed?” Chelsea asks, her eyes narrowed.
What happened to the girl who was jumping around and cheering for me to get together with Roarke?
“Yeah, he doesn’t want the kitten in the guest rooms. Something about allergies and stuff.” I sort through the messages Victoria handed me when I walked in.
“That’s weird and sneaky.”
“It can be considerate, too.” Victoria picks up a folder with the name of the venue on it. “So, at three today we’ll see the venue?”
“Yeah,” I say, setting the messages to the side.
Chelsea sits in my office with her mid-morning snack, a cupcake today.
“The considerate thing would have been to let her sleep in a guest room.”
“Technically, the considerate thing would be to give her the venue without the five favors. So, in this case, I think we shouldn’t be surprised.”
Victoria has a point.
Chelsea nods in agreement.
“How did Lucy and the kitten do?” Victoria asks.
I fall back into my chair. “Oh, they’re the best of friends. The cat slept in Lucy’s bed with her both nights. I think Lucy might have been depressed after we left yesterday. She wasn’t herself.”
“I really hope he’s not a creep and doesn’t wash the sheets you slept in or something. What if he’s some weird Dahmer kinda guy and he’s masturbating in the pillowcase you slept on?”
Victoria and I stop and look at her.
She dips her finger into the frosting and sucks it off her finger. “What?”
“That’s a disturbing image,” Victoria says.
“Maybe Dean and I may have been watching too much ID television. But he could still be a wacko.” Her eyes widen like she’s ready to bet on how crazy he is.
“I don’t think so.” I shake my head.
“Huh,” Chelsea says, unwrapping the cupcake and taking a big bite, frosting ending up on the tip of her nose.
Victoria leans forward and hands her a tissue.
“You’re into him,” Chelsea accuses once she’s done chewing.
“I’m not actually, but I will admit that there might be a side to him that’s new to me.”
Chelsea laughs and elbows Victoria in the chair next to her.
“I spent the entire weekend without him. He wasn’t even there.”
“He really is brilliant,” Chelsea says. “He gave you a tunnel vision into the man he is without having to even be present or verbally persuade you. He gave you two whole days to do whatever you wanted in his most personal space with zero pressure from him.”
“I didn’t snoop.” I raise my chin, proud of the fact that I didn’t go through every drawer in his place. Sure, I may have started looking for a pen in not the most obvious places, say his en suite’s drawers, but I was still technically looking for a pen.
Victoria tilts her head and leans back in her chair. “It really is a damn good plan on his part. Shows how smart he is.”
“Don’t start siding with the enemy,” I say.
“I’m not siding, I’m just giving him some props because you didn’t spend one minute with him and you’re already softening to his advances.”
“That’s not true,” I insist.
Victoria and Chelsea sit up straighter like scolded children in class.
“When I woke up on Sunday he was making breakfast. I guess whatever he was dealing with, ended early.”
Once again, I ignore the part of me that wonders who the woman that called his name was.
Both girls side glance one another.
“Like I said—brilliant,” Chelsea says.
“No, no. I really don’t think it was planned.” Why am I defending this man?
Chelsea raises her eyebrows, folding the cupcake wrapper inside the Kleenex she used as a napkin.
“If you say so.” She shrugs.
It’s clear she doesn’t believe me. After a few seconds, I let a long sigh loose and decide to lose the tough girl act. “Do you want to know the truth?”
“Yes,” they say in unison.
“I’ve never been treated the way he treated me last weekend.”
“That bad?” Victoria asks and cringes a bit.
“That good,” I say. “I show up and the doorman knows I’m coming. Tells me the dog walker is already scheduled and paid for and that I’m not to tip any of the doormen because Mr. Baldwin took care of it. He had the entire condo cleaned before I arrived. He had the fridge and cabinets stocked with food so I never had to go out. Then on Sunday, yes, I was going to leave first thing, but regardless, he made me a huge breakfast and then made an opening argument pertaining to the two of us.”