Counselor Undone (12 page)

When her pants and jacket finally came off, Jordis wore
black spandex biking shorts with a red Nike basketball tank edged in white and
stenciled with the number 23. The tank hung to her hips, but did little to hide
her shapely backside. Michael’s mouth went dry. He noticed the other men
checking her out. He immediately wanted her to put her pants back on. It dawned
on him having her on his team meant someone from the other team would be
guarding her. Some other man would be putting his hands on her hips and backside
to guard against her offensive moves on the court. The thought made him want to
rescind her invitation to play.

When they lined up on the court, Michael consciously squared
up against McCormick. He still had some residual angst from the flirtation that
had gone on between the partner and Jordis. He wasn’t giving McCormick any excuse
to get up close and personal with her. Roy would enjoy that way too much. Chase
took Jackson, which left Jordis and Eric guarding each other.

Eric tossed the ball to Jordis. “Ladies first. Take the ball
out.”

“Why thank you, Eric,” Jordis said with a faux smile. She
let him check the ball. When he stayed back, playing her loosely, she dribbled
once and immediately put up a jumper for a three-point shot.

“Ho!” McCormick exclaimed, raising his hands above his head
in the universal touchdown gesture. “Nothing but net.” McCormick turned to Jackson
and Covington. “Boys, did we just get played?”

Jordis winked at him, and McCormick eyed her with a little
more heat.

Eric eyed her with a little more venom.

The game was about to get interesting.

Eric began to play more aggressively. Every time he touched
Jordis defensively, Michael’s teeth clenched. At the rate things were going, he
would need a set of partials before the game ended.

Midway through the competition, Chase, Jordis and Michael
led by ten points. Jordis got the ball again. She’d taken the last four shots
over Eric and his expression showed exactly how he felt about that. When she
went up for a jumper this time, Eric hammered her hard. Jordis hit the ground
with a grunt.

Michael moved quickly, but Chase got to her first. “Foul,
Covington! What the hell was that about?”

“What? All I did was block the shot. If she can’t handle
playing with the guys, she needs to get off the court.”

“Bullshit, Covington. That was a cheap shot.” Chase shoved
him out of the way. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Chase turned as Michael stepped over, watching to see if
he’d need to intervene between Michael and Covington.

Lucky for Eric, Michael only had eyes for Jordis. He squatted
beside her. “You all right?”

“Yeah. No harm done.” She sat up and looked over at Eric,
mumbling a curse under her breath.

Michael noticed the direction of her gaze. “I’ve got Covington
from here on out.”

“No. You don’t.”

Fury settled in Michael’s chest. Fury he intended to use to
put Covington in his place despite Jordis’s determination to do this her way.
He sensed another battle of wills coming. “Look, Jordis. That was intentional.
He’s trying to make a point, and I’ve had enough of these games between you
two.”

“Yeah, me too, and I’m about to put a stop to it.” She held
out a hand. “Help me up, please.”

Michael gave her a tug up, and Chase moved in to huddle with
them. “What’s the plan? Michael, you taking Covington?”

Chase knew him well. “Yes.”

“No,” Jordis contradicted. “Covington’s mine, Remington.”

Chase looked between the two. He gave Michael a sympathetic
look, but took the decision out of Michael’s hands by asking Jordis, “What do
you want us to do?”

She put out her hand. “Give me the ball and clear the
field.”

“Jordis—” Michael started, but she interrupted him.

“Michael, you interfere in this, and I’ll turn that Jag
parked outside into a crushed aluminum can. Let me handle Eric. Pick up your
man and keep him out of my way.”

Michael’s brow creased at her reference to his Jag, but he
nodded and stepped over to McCormick.

“Your lady all right, Remington?” McCormick asked.

“She’s not my lady,” Michael ground out.

McCormick chuckled. “Maybe not, but you sure want her to
be.”

Michael narrowed his eyes at his partner, wondering why he’d
said that.

“Dude, it’s written all over your face. I’m surprised Covington
can still walk.”

“If it were up to me, he wouldn’t be able to.”

McCormick watched Jordis check the ball for Eric. “Feisty
one, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

Roy eyed Jordis pensively. “She wouldn’t happen to have a
sister?”

Michael stared at McCormick’s grinning face. The man was a
flagrant flirt and hopeless womanizer. Michael rolled his eyes. “No. No sister.
Just a younger brother.”

Royal made a tsking sound. “Pity.” When Michael gave him a
discerning eye, Roy—who at an even six feet was several inches shorter
than Michael—patted him on the shoulder. With laughter still in his
voice, he soothed, “Easy, big guy. You can’t fault a man for appreciating the
scenery.”

The men’s focus went back to the game. Eric made a move to
get around Jordis, and she swatted the ball away. Throwing her whole body into
the move, she knocked him on his ass in the process.

“Oh, sorry. My bad. You okay, Eric?” She offered a hand to
help him up.

He stared at her hand for a few seconds before extending his
to let her assist him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go again, counselor.”

This time Jordis had the ball. When Eric pressed her, she dribbled
behind her back, slid past him and went for an easy layup. They kept at each
other basket after basket. Eric would shove. Jordis would shove back. For every
basket Eric made, Jordis made two. Every once in a while, Jordis would drill
the ball to Chase or Michael for an easy shot, but for the most part, the other
men accepted the rest of the game was the Jordis and Eric show.

By the final minutes of the game, Jordis had sunk nine baskets
to Eric’s five and Eric’s frustration showed. His deteriorating attitude
affected his performance. Jordis set up for the last shot. Eric crouched to
guard her.

She kept her dribble out of his reach, adding some fancy
footwork for good measure. Each time he tried for the ball, she outmaneuvered
him. She toyed with him, dribbling the ball between her legs and behind her
back a few times for show.

She dribbled left then right a few feet, Eric on her heels
the whole time. She spun backwards, letting him trail her but not get a drop on
the ball. After she’d dribbled around him a few times, she passed the ball
behind her back, headed out of the paint towards the top of the key. Stepping
theatrically outside the three-point line, she pivoted towards the basket and
released the ball. Her hand hovered in the air, wrist bent in homage to her follow
through.

Swish
, nothing
but net.

“I believe that’s game, boys,” Jordis purred before going
for her towel and wiping her face.

Roy fisted his hands on his hips. “Okay, give. Where did you
play?”

She smiled. “Stanford. Lady Cardinal. Conference champs
three years in a row. National champions my senior year.”

Nodding, Roy grinned back at her. “Ah. That explains the red
jersey.”

Smile still in place, she picked up her belongings and
headed for the locker room.

Behind her, Eric hung in half, hands braced against his
knees while he tried to catch his breath.

McCormick stepped to Covington and patted him on the back.
“Damn, son, the lady took you to school.” He glanced at Jordis’s retreating
back. “And looked mighty fine doing it.” With a smirk in Remington’s direction,
McCormick grabbed his bag and headed for the men’s locker room.

Chase placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “I think
McCormick’s in love.” Chase laughed at the predatory expression Michael gave
him. He lifted his hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” Chase bent to snatch up
their duffle bags. “Just saying.”

Michael took his bag from Chase and headed for the locker
room. “Did you know she could play ball like that?”

Chase walked alongside him. “Nope. That tidbit wasn’t
included in her resume,
boss
.”

Now Chase was screwing with him. Michael’s nerves had had
enough. As they entered the locker room, Michael leaned his shoulder into Chase
and shoved hard.

Chase landed with an echoing thud against the lockers, and
laughed. “Tsk. Tsk. Someone’s awfully touchy this morning.” Chase headed for
the showers, his jovial mood not shaken in the least.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Chase and Michael strolled towards the
gym exit. As they hit the sidewalk, Michael paused. Jordis’s car sat in the parking
lot under a shade tree. “She’s still here.”

“She who?” Chase feigned ignorance.

“You know, Chase. You keep messing with me, and I’m going to
kick your ass.”

“You and what army?” Chase jumped aside with a laugh when
Michael dropped his duffle and grabbed for his head. Skirting Michael’s grasp,
he conceded, “Okay. Okay. Sorry man. You’re just such an easy target these
days. You need to take care of that.”

If it had been anyone but Chase, Michael would have pretended
not to understand. Chase knew him too well. They’d been friends since they were
twelve and Chase’s mother had joined the firm as his grandfather’s secretary.
“If only it were that easy.”

“It’s that easy if you let it be.” Chase turned serious.
“Not every woman is like your ex, Michael. You’ve got to stop looking for gold
diggers and schemers around every corner and let yourself relax around a woman.

“I spent a lot of time with Jordis when she helped me with
my last case. I can guarantee you the woman in there—” He tilted his head
towards the gym. “—isn’t impressed with your position and doesn’t need
your money. And, given her comment on the court earlier, we can also conclude
she’s not even impressed with your ride.”

They both glanced at his 2010 silver Jaguar XF, with plates
REM ESQ, remembering Jordis’s aluminum can threat.

“If you’re not sure you’re interested, McCormick looked like
he’d be more than happy to step in.”

“Not. Gonna. Happen.”

“I
don’t know, man.” Chase chuckled. “After watching that lady play ball, I have
to tell you if I didn’t know you were already hooked, McCormick would be the
least of your worries.”

Before Michael could comment, Jackson exited the building
and approached them. “Well, that was an interesting game.” Jackson slapped
Chase’s shoulder. “Any chance Jordis will want to play with us again?”

“After the crap Covington pulled, I doubt it,” Michael replied.

Jackson shrugged. “She seemed to handle him well enough. She
doesn’t impress me as a woman who backs down from a challenge.”

“And you’d be right.” Chase looked pointedly at Michael.

“Well, one of you should ask her. We’ve got the Metropolitan
Bar Association basketball tournament coming up in a couple of months. We could
use her. Maybe we could win the trophy back from Shauke, Hardeman and Lowe.”
Jackson headed for his car. “See you guys next week.”

Michael and Chase waved him off then Michael checked his
watch, wondering what was taking Jordis so long. Soon the parking lot on this
side of the building would empty. The private court at the back of the facility
cost more to rent and generally only got reserved for nighttime events and
fundraisers. Michael gladly paid the higher fees to have a private court uninterrupted
by youth league practices and female patrons more interested in picking up guys
than working out. Other than their firm games, this court didn’t see much
activity during early weekend hours.

Michael picked up his discarded bag and told Chase he was
going back in to check on Jordis. Chase gave him a fist bump and walked away.
McCormick and Covington exited the building, said their goodbyes to Michael,
and strolled towards two of the remaining five cars in the lot. Michael
reentered the gym to search out Jordis.

* * *

Eric paused before getting in his car. He glanced at
Michael’s Jag then over at the orange Charger. He knew Jackson’s car. With
Chase pulling out of the lot and McCormick getting in his own car, the Charger
could only belong to Jordis.

Eric tossed his duffle in his trunk and stared at the gym
door. He got in his car and rolled down the driver’s side window, pondering the
coincidence of Michael and Jordis being together on the Plaza last night and
now being the last ones left in the building. He was still stewing over the ass
whipping Jordis had given him on the court. The thought of her alone with
Remington inside the gym pissed him off more.

They’d looked pretty cozy coming off that carriage ride and
now this. From what he could see, he was losing the bid for second chair in the
Metra Pharmaceuticals case for all the wrong reasons. If Jordis got the Metra
assignment and handled it successfully, he’d be hard pressed to win the IP
litigation partnership spot up for grabs this year. He needed to find a way to
take Jordis Morgan out of the picture, especially with Remington making case
decisions with his privates.