Triple Jeopardy (Lawyers Behaving Badly Book 2) (6 page)

Jayne was too busy eating to do anything more than grunt. Maisie wrestled with the tofu—the sauce on the end of her chopstick was delicious, at least—and eventually managed to work out a system, using the chopsticks as a scoop.

“Once upon a time, there was this crazy intern,” Jayne said. “Nothing diagnosable, but she was… well, she was nuts.”

“For example?”

“Oh, at first it was just a little batty. She thought Santa Claus was real. Stuff like that. And then one day she told someone that Raphael was her soulmate from a previous life, and he’d perished aboard the
Titanic
during their honeymoon.”

Jayne paused to signal for a refill of the jasmine tea. Maisie was so anxious that she started to push her own cup across the table, hoping that would get the story moving again.

Jayne noticed and smiled. “Anyway, LB&B was setting up for a party. I was stuck at the courthouse, filing something or other. I don’t remember now. Busy work for first-years, basically. So I wasn’t there. But Trent had invited a few people from building management, including this really pretty woman. Cynthia, I think. She’d gotten dressed up, did her hair and makeup. From what I heard, she looked like a movie star. People didn’t even recognize her.”

Maisie steeled herself against a fresh spike of jealousy.

“Cynthia asked the intern if she knew where Raphael was, and the intern flipped. I forgot to mention that she was rather… husky. She grabbed poor Cynthia by the hair and hauled her to the edge, then wrangled her onto the wall and gave her a good push. Poor Cynthia was hanging on by her fingertips. Literally.”

Maisie felt like her lunch was trying to come back up.

“Ethan and Mrs. Donahue ran over. Ethan grabbed Cynthia, tried to pull her back, but the crazy intern shoved him. He fell forward and hit the side of his face but didn’t let go. That’s how he got scraped up.” Jayne shuddered. “Mrs. Donahue was less than useless. She was screaming like
she
was the one about to plunge to her death. Raphael heard and came running.”

Maisie pushed away her plate. “That’s the craziest story I’ve ever heard,” she said. “What are the odds?”

“These days? Zero. The roof is restricted access. It’s a shame, because the view up there at night is incredible. It would be the perfect spot for a bar, you know? But Ethan refuses. Not even if there’s a barrier.”

“What about Cynthia and the intern?”

“Cynthia took a leave of absence and never came back. Other than the PTSD and a few bruises, she was unharmed. I suspect she moved someplace flat, where none of the buildings are higher than two stories. The intern—I don’t remember how that played out. She’s in prison or an asylum. So, which one would you date?”

Maisie blinked. “What?”

A devilishly charming smile had crept across Jayne’s beautiful face. “If you were going to date one of the partners, who would you choose?”

There was no way to answer that question safely, so Maisie simply didn’t reply at all. At the moment, she was really glad she didn’t blush easily.

“Oh, come on. You went out and bought a new wardrobe. An expensive one. Your second day of work, you wore a dress that I know for a fact cost five grand.”

Five grand?
She’d never suspected. Maisie felt herself paling, and Jayne flashed a grin. “Excuse me for being gauche, but if you’re going to be a lawyer, you’d better get used to talking about money.”

Maisie glanced down at her skirt and blouse. Like the dress Jayne had mentioned, it was one of the outfits that Trent had given her after she’d babysat a wealthy client overnight. Davina Ballystock. The poor woman was going through a messy divorce with a psychopath, who had disappeared. Last Maisie had heard, he’d resurfaced in California.

“I bought a few nice things, to fit in better at the office.”

Jayne made an amused clucking sound. “You’re trying to impress someone. Let’s see if I can guess. I think Trent is your type. Hell, he’s everyone’s type.”

“He’s… all right,” Maisie said, hoping that sounded asexual and innocuous. “I don’t think of them that way.”

How the fuck was she supposed to handle this? And maybe it was a test. Maybe someone else had noticed the way Maisie looked at her bosses…

She had to say something to extinguish the scheming gleam in Jayne’s eye. “Trent is scary.”

“Scary? Trent Banno?” Jayne laughed. “I… guess I can see it.” Her voice inflected upward, as if she were asking a question. “He’s intimidating in court; that much is indisputable. God, he’s brilliant. That man could work the angles on a straight line.”

“Mrs. Donahue said…” Maisie trailed off, wondering if anything Mrs. Donahue had said was true. “Trent dumped coffee on some assistant because it wasn’t hot enough.”

Jayne burst out laughing. “God, no. The assistant poured it on himself. And I know, because I was there. That guy was an idiot. And Mrs. Donahue is apparently a liar.”

“I… she…” Maisie slumped in her seat. “She said the assistant had ‘ended up wearing the coffee’ and I assumed the rest. Well, she insinuated pretty hard. Maybe she should be the one applying to law school.”

“Why would she do that? She makes more than I do. Stop changing the subject.” Cocking her head, Jayne treated Maisie to five long seconds of scrutiny. “So, if you had to choose one?”

“I swear I haven’t thought about choosing one.” Technically true—she wanted all of them. “But I guess
you
would choose Ethan,” Maisie said, even though she didn’t want to know. But she had to get out of the spotlight. Ethan had made it clear that no one could know about their unique relationship. Maisie didn’t have as much to lose as the partners did… just her reputation.

“Yeah,” Jayne said after a moment. She seemed eager to talk about Ethan, and given the circumstances, Maisie didn’t know how she felt about that. “He’s so… mysterious. Plus, you have to admit there’s something hot about a man who saved someone’s life. From what I heard, he didn’t hesitate even a second. God, he’s so—”

“Why am I thinking you’ve dated a few firemen?” Maisie asked, desperate to steer the conversation toward guys who weren’t regularly fucking her in the office.

“Not yet. But… big poles, and they know how to use their hoses.”

Maisie clamped a hand over her mouth, but she was laughing. “Jayne!”

Jayne was laughing, too. “I like you,” she said. “Once you loosen up, I bet we’ll have loads of fun. All my girlfriends got married or otherwise settled down. Tell me you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Maisie shook her head.

“Perfect. Actually… maybe I shouldn’t corrupt you, because I know a great guy. Six feet tall, black hair, blue eyes, works out every day.” She pulled out her phone and swiped at the screen.

“Why aren’t you dating him, then?”

Jayne wrinkled her nose. “Because he’s my brother. He’s very picky, but I know he’d love you. Go on. Look.”

Reluctantly, Maisie looked down at the phone. The man was a Clark Kent double, but without the glasses. The rugged, male version of Jayne, but with dark hair.

No, not merely attractive… This guy could give Trent a run for his money.

“He spent a summer lifeguarding at the beach,” Jayne said, “and he had a fan club. Girls used to fight over who got to fetch his sodas.”

Maisie snorted.

Jayne squinted one eye and cocked her head. “What?”

“Girls do the dumbest things to get a hot guy’s attention, that’s all.” Maisie wondered what Heather would think about Jayne. Jayne was prettier, smarter, and more successful, but Maisie would have bet money that she had no trouble making friends.

Jayne stowed the phone and smiled in satisfaction. “Good. He’s smart, too. So it’s settled—you’ll meet him.” Jayne was too busy fishing her wallet out of her purse to see that Maisie was shaking her head.

Jayne’s brother was hot, no doubt, but Maisie’s hands were beyond full.

She wanted Ethan. And Raphael. And Trent.

A part-time relationship with the three of them was better than a whole tiresome romance with any one normal guy.

“I’m not ready to date,” Maisie said. “But I appreciate the offer to set us up.”

“It won’t be a date. Just a group of friends, hanging out.” Jayne dropped some bills on the table. “Let’s get you back to work before your jailer has a stroke.”

Maisie’s mouth went dry, because for a fraction of a second she thought Jayne was talking about Trent, that she somehow knew about how he’d wanted to keep her in his office all day.

But Jayne surely meant Mrs. Donahue, and a glance at the time revealed that Maisie had been gone too long.

7

B
ack in the office, Maisie found herself glancing at her jailer, who had her headphones on, taking dictation. Trent thought the woman was trustworthy, but why had she lied about the accident? What had she possibly gained?

It just didn’t add up. Was there more to the story than even Jayne knew?

Thinking of Jayne was a mistake, because Maisie started imagining Ethan flirting with her. It was making her sick with jealousy.

She saved the project she was working on and happened to look up just in time to see Ethan disappearing toward the elevators.

Without checking to see if Mrs. Donahue was watching, she flew out of her chair, chasing after him. She nearly collided with one of the paralegals, who grumbled something Maisie didn’t catch.

She made it onto the elevator just behind Ethan.

He turned in surprise, no doubt wondering why the hell someone was running like an animal through his distinguished law office. His gray eyes narrowed slightly when he saw it was Maisie.

“We need to talk,” she said as the doors closed.

Ethan hit the emergency stop button, though the elevator had barely started moving.

She took a deep breath. “I know I’m being presumptuous—”

Her apology was cut off by Ethan’s mouth over hers. It was as if a tornado had descended upon the enclosed space, because the air around her whirled like mad, whipping her into a frenzy of desire. His scent, his essence, his power were all around and all-encompassing.

Her body trembled as she sighed, relaxing against him while his strong hands groped her ass through the skirt. Impatiently, he shoved the skirt over her hips.

Then he was picking her up, his fingers digging into her buttocks. He jerked her body close, and her panty-covered pussy was brought snugly against the straining bulge in his pants.

He’d saved someone’s life. How could she
not
be in love with him?

With a whimper, she encircled his neck with her arms, hoping it seemed like she just wanted to keep her balance, but despite the lust raging through her veins, she had to admit that it felt right to touch him like this.

It felt intimate.

But then he shifted her weight to his left, pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. Maisie didn’t mind—it was a workday and he had a lot to do. He lowered her to the floor.

His eyes were glued to the screen, and that, well, she did mind.

Pessimistic about what would happen next, she straightened her clothes. It was as if she’d disappeared.

Ethan disengaged the emergency stop, and the elevator resumed its smooth downward journey.

It was ridiculous to expect him to ignore his business because of her, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to knock the phone out of his hand.

“Apologies,” Ethan said, returning the phone to his pocket. “Something came up. You’re free to accompany me to the lobby.”

Resigned, she nodded.

If he was in the office, he often went to the deli to buy a danish for himself and muffins for the assistants. It was probably an excuse to get away from his desk for a few minutes, but it made him popular, which was maybe why he was so quickly forgiven for his terseness when asking people to drop things and jump to his assistance.

In fact, Ethan was one of the best-liked attorneys in the company. Based on their first few interactions, that had surprised Maisie. But she was starting to understand.

Ethan was about tough love, so when he gave his approval, it was like receiving blessings from the gods themselves.

Then there was that business of having saved someone’s life.

In the deli, no one stared at his face. In fairness, there weren’t many customers. The employees clearly recognized him, because as he approached the counter, they were already filling a couple of bags.

“What would you like, Maisie?” he asked, turning toward her.

The weight of his gray gaze made her mind go blank. Her entire body pulsed with desire for him. If he’d asked her to get on her knees and suck him off right there, she would have.

“Um… blueberry is fine,” she mumbled.

He was professional, distant even. The way he could turn cold really bothered her. She trusted him, but it would have been nice to see a crack in the façade.

Her heart sank as they returned to the elevators; a small group was already waiting, so she wouldn’t be alone with him again.

“Ethan!”

They both turned toward the voice. Raphael was hurrying toward them.

“We’ll get the next one,” Maisie said to the woman holding the elevator door. She smiled. Maybe her luck had changed.

They got onto the next elevator. Two businessmen approached, but Ethan shook his head. “Going express to the top,” he said.

Maisie hadn’t realized that was an option. They would be alone—perfect for a quick threesome, but Ethan wasn’t even looking at her.

He said to Raphael, “I’m heading over for the Goldstein meeting in ten minutes.”

“Oh?” Raphael jerked his head in a poor approximation of a nod. He seemed ready to jitter right out of his skin, and Maisie wondered what he would say if she offered to take him into his office to help him relax.

She was just about to touch his arm when he said, “I’m calling an emergency meeting as soon as you’re free.” He glanced at Maisie. “You, too.”

“Me?”

He turned toward Ethan. “What’s the problem at Goldstein’s?”

“Additional lessons in why you don’t award construction contracts to your ne’er-do-well son-in-law.”

“Dorothy can handle it,” Raphael said. “If you keep running over to burp the clients whenever they have a bit of indigestion—”