His Under Contract

The glass door is open, I have all of three seconds to take him in before he looks up.

          Shit, shit, shit. The man is beyond gorgeous. The pictures of him didn’t do him justice. His face is all hard lines, a broad forehead, heavily lined above a straight nose, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine or a billboard.

Holy fuck, the suit he’s wearing is still crisp as though it’s seven in the morning instead of seven in the evening. The suit is beautifully tailored and far from hiding his body it’s obvious he has the kind of hard, thick muscles you see on an athlete, not a lawyer. Thick inky black hair streaked with silver have my hands itching to run through it. When our eyes meet all the air leaves not just my lungs but my entire body. I have no idea how I stay upright when I swear the world has just tilted by a hundred and eighty degrees.

          He blinks, breaking the connection and I shiver from the loss.

          “Ms. Messina, come in, have a seat.” Sitting back in his chair, his manner is relaxed.

          The hair on the back of my neck goes up. After years of growing up with a father who ruled his household with an iron fist, I’ve learned the hard way how to read people. I’m not fooled by his relaxed posture, he’s angry. Why? What have I done to make him so angry? “Thank you for meeting with me.”

          Offering my hand for a handshake, I’m proud it’s straight, he stares at me for a moment before giving in, shaking my hand. Electricity, sharp and biting, slams into me—filling my whole body. No, no, no. He drops my hand, as his jaw goes hard.

I take a deep breath and slam the door shut on what just happened. I don’t want to be attracted to him, he’s everything I hate in a man. My body didn’t get that memo though. But it doesn’t matter if I’m attracted to him, as far as he’s concerned I’m invisible. At my size men like him look through women like me—he’s looking through me.

          “I didn’t have much choice.” Lines appear in his forehead as he studies me.

          A nod is all I allow myself, biting my tongue.

          “Amelia tells me you’re perfect for the job. Tell me, how perfect are you for the job?” The words are a taunt. Fuck, it would help if even his stupid voice wasn’t sexy. Smoky, with a hint of gravel, it trails down my spine and I fight another shiver as I wonder what it would be like to have him whisper in my ear.

          Forcing my head up, I pick a spot on his dark blue silk tie. “While she gave me some details, she didn’t tell me everything. I met with Cora today. We went over her day, then her week. Perfection, like many things, is in the eye of the beholder. Am I capable of doing everything Cora does? Yes. Cooking, cleaning, running errands, and ensuring your day runs efficiently without any disruption is something I will be able to do.”

          I’m proud of the way my voice is strong, sure. It was basic yet involved from grinding and making his coffee, to going shopping for him, to ordering new suits and shirts, and keeping his home clean. It wouldn’t be difficult. They were all the things I watched my mother do for my father. While his schedule is the one thing that might take some getting used to, I know I can manage it.

          “Not my day, my life. Right now, there is a cleaning service that comes in to deep clean the things I viewed as too hard for Cora’s age three times a week. When you start, they stop coming. While technically you’ll have Sunday off, if I call, you answer.”

          “When you say jump, I say how high?” No fucking way. I bite my tongue until I taste blood. My eyes go down to my hands in my lap.

          “Exactly. Not only are you intelligent, but you have a smart mouth: telling a mother if she hadn’t wanted her daughter to get measles than she should have gotten the immunization. But because she didn’t, now she’s put other children as well as her daughter in danger. Then there was the doctor you worked for, who, when he said you couldn’t have the day off, you told him either he gave you the day off or you were going to report his ass for writing OxyContin scripts to men who looked like drug dealers.” There is more gravel in his voice than before.

          My stomach knots in agony. He doesn’t want me, not for the job and definitely not the way my stupid body want him.

          “Your last boss is saying you owe him for the suit you ruined by upending his coffee in his lap. But maybe it was a good thing he didn’t drink it, as one of your former colleagues said you were constantly threatening to put a sleep aid in your boss’s coffee. Something about how he might call you fat, but he still grabbed your ass and rubbed his hard tiny penis against your ass.”

          He’s daring me to refute what he said. I can’t, so I don’t say anything.

          “Interesting, now you don’t have anything to say. Baby sister Amelia is going to be disappointed you couldn’t even make it through the interview.”

          This motherfucker. The smug grin on his face flips my switch. Since I wasn’t getting the job, the least I can do is tell him what I really think of him. “Baby sister stopped being a baby a long time ago, you need to stop treating her like one. I get you’re protective of her. God knows she needs it, but she is a good damned lawyer in her own right. If you are going to play the benevolent older brother by putting her as an associate on cases with you, then let her handle them as you would any other associate. Instead of coming in at the end and making her look like she doesn’t know what she’s doing. If you don’t, then very soon Amelia is going to go to another firm, where she’s treated like anyone else, not a baby. When that happens, it won’t be long before the resentment will set in on both sides.”

          His eyes darken and his jaw clenches, but I’m not done yet. “You might be rich. That doesn’t give you the right to treat people as if they are less than you. She said you were an asshole. I think she’s being kind. I might not have graduated from Harvard, someone with a below average IQ could do what you need them to do. Refusing five people your sister picked for you shows you’re just being a toddler having a temper tantrum.” I get up to leave.

          “Sit.” One word, but holy shit, the violence contained in it makes ice run down my spine. My legs give out on me.

          “Explain about Amelia leaving—now.” The words are rapped out against my skin.

          “Basically, what I said. She has considered leaving and going to another firm where she’s not the baby sister to anyone. You have four times named her as your associate on cases, had her do all the work, and then twice you didn’t even have her go to the client meeting. Once, you had her sit out a deposition when any other associate would have been there. Her complaint is you treat her like your personal paralegal.” My throat is so tight my words are almost a whisper.

          He shakes his head. Then he opens his mouth as if to defend himself, only to cover his hand with his mouth. It’s obvious he had no idea Amelia felt the way she did, and the idea of her leaving is upsetting him. “When was the last time she said anything about leaving?”

          “The last time she got really upset was almost three months ago. An athlete contract negotiation, Singer, I think.” Why the hell do I feel bad? He’s the asshole. I’m fighting the urge to lie and tell him it’s okay. It’s really not, he needed to know he’s ruining his relationship with his sister.

          Closing his eyes, he shakes his head again. “I wasn’t trying to make you apologize for what you said. I wanted you to own it. I appreciate a straight talker, someone not afraid to say what they’re thinking, exactly when they’re thinking it. I’m not a mind reader, and I don’t play games. If I’ve upset you, say it right then and tell me why. I don’t promise it won’t happen again, but at least I’ll know what the hell is going on. I’ll see you tomorrow at six o’clock in the morning. Don’t be late.”

          I’m dismissed, with the job. Before he changes his mind, I speed walk my ass from the room.