Triple Jeopardy (Lawyers Behaving Badly Book 2) Page 5

  “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

  Back 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 aske
d, 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—”

  “Dorothy asked me for a second opinion.”

  “If Trent were available right now, I’d preempt that meeting anyway,” Raphael said. “We’ve got a problem, Ethan.”

  Ethan nodded. “As soon as I’m free, you’ll have my full attention.”

  Maisie tried not to let Raphael spook her. He tended to be overly cautious. It was probably nothing.

  But when Ethan handed her the bag with her muffin, he smiled at her. Well, the left half of his face did. The stiffer right half didn’t move as much.

  But the asymmetry wasn’t what made her blood run cold.

  It was the fact that Ethan was bothering to reassure her at all. He sometimes did that when they were having sex, but never otherwise.

  Whatever the problem that had Raphael spooked, the bosses could surely handle it. LB&B was a large law firm. Emergencies cropped up.

  Right?

  She was opening a folder as Ethan returned from his office. He’d swapped the pastries for his elegant briefcase. His expression was guarded, and when he caught Maisie looking at him, his face briefly darkened into a frown.

  A moment later, Raphael hurried past, as if he wanted to catch up with Ethan.

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to help her stop worrying. At least she had plenty of work to distract her.

  Half an hour later, the phone rang.

  Maisie jumped.

  The display indicated that the call was routing through the other office. She looked across the room at Mrs. Donahue, who was watching with an eagle eye.

  “It’s the other office,” she called out loudly, reaching for it. “Am I allowed to answer?”

  Mrs. Donahue pursed her lips, then put her headphones back on.

  “Mr. Lattimore’s office,” Maisie said, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. “This is Maisie Novau speaking. How may I—”

  “Maisie,” Ethan said. “You’re fired, effective immediately.”

  The world froze in place. “What?”

  “You’re fired.”

  She felt something stinging her eyes, and the room swam. Her mouth had gone dry. “I don’t understand.”

  “Pro bono,” he said quietly. Then, “I think I’ve been clear. Clean out your desk and return your pass to security.”

  8

  Maisie replaced the receiver with a trembling hand.

  Pro bono.

  They had figured out that she was the one who’d reassigned Jayne’s pro bono case to Raphael.

  Everything had gone blurry. For a moment, Maisie struggled to understand why. Then she realized she was crying. She used the side of her palm to wipe her cheeks.

  “Maisie?” Jayne had been walking by, and she was staring at Maisie in shock. “Are you all right?”

  How many times a day did Jayne pass her desk?

  Hardly ever.

  What were the odds that this was a coincidence?

  “I just got fired,” Maisie said, and she had to look away because if Jayne was part of this, if Jayne was the one who’d demanded Maisie’s head on a platter, Maisie didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see it on her face.

  “What? Are you sure?” Jayne’s disbelief sounded genuine. “That doesn’t make sense. Raphael was saying just this morning that you’re one of the best new hires in a long time. He planned to end your probationary period and transition you to permanent. I wanted to tell you at lunch.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” She grabbed her cell phone and charger and dumped them into her purse. She hadn’t brought in any personal effects, so there wasn’t much more to take—just a small bottle of gardenia-scented hand sanitizer, a brush, and a box of tissues.

  She only bothered with the brush.

  Then she decided the tissues would come in handy in the near future. She shoved the box into her purse.

  She left the bag with the muffin on her desk. Maybe someone else would eat it, and if not, it could be tossed.

  The canvas bag of books that Jayne had given her earlier was still sitting beside the desk. Maisie picked it up and held it out. “Looks like I won’t be needing this after all,” she said, her voice breaking.

  “Why?”

  “Obviously I’m not going to be getting any letters of recommendation from LB&B. Whatever I did to screw up must have been horrible. Take them.”

  Jayne did. Confusion and dismay warred on her face. “I can’t pretend to understand what’s going on, but there’s no way it’s that simple.” Her gaze darted in the direction of Mrs. Donahue’s workstation. She lowered her voice. “I bet she’s behind this.”

  “Then it’s just as well that I’m leaving now and not when I’m more settled. Good luck with everything, Jayne.”

  “I’ll send you an email,” Jayne said.

  Yeah, sure she would.

  Maisie smiled weakly as she took in her desk one last time. Mrs. Donahue was still immersed in her project. Or pretending to be.

  “I’ll walk you to the elevator,” Jayne offered, but Maisie shook her head.

  She’d entered the office alone, and she’d be leaving alone.

  To her relief, the woman who had taken her security photo wasn’t on duty.

  Maisie had to fill out a short form explaining why she was leaving. “Because you’ve worked here less than thirty days,” the bearded man explained. He had ear stretchers. Also, a bar through one eyebrow.

  They made Maisie think of tattoos, which made her think of Raphael’s hidden tattoo. Now she would never know what it was, or why he’d gotten it. She’d never find out what had turned him from a carefree counterculture hottie into a sophisticated lawyer.

  The lines she was writing on became wavy as the form blurred, and she blinked furiously to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

  She filled out the paper as quickly as she could—got fired—and relinquished her ID card. In the photo, she was grinning like an idiot, remembering the stranger who had caught her on the street.

  She’d been half in love with Ethan even then.

  Fuck Ethan, she thought suddenly. He should have let her fall, should have let her crack open her foolish head.
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  The man smiled grimly. “Sorry the job didn’t work out. They have the highest turnover here, by far. If you take another job in the building—”

  “Nope.”

  He shoveled the form and her ID into a large envelope. “You’ll remain in the system for six months. If you take another job in the building, even a temp job,” he said over her protests, “tell whoever’s here that you’re in the system. It’ll save some time. Besides, it’s a flattering photo.”

  She smiled at his stupid attempt to make her feel better, then shouldered her purse and went outside.

  It was three in the afternoon. Plenty of pedestrians around, but most people were at work.

  Work.

  She needed a new job, and fast.

  Head lowered, she began heading toward the subway.

  But when she reached the entrance, she couldn’t bring herself to descend into its shadowy depths. If she went down there, she’d probably lose it completely and end up sobbing in a urine-stained corner while someone filmed her breakdown to upload later.

  Instead, she wandered aimlessly through the city. She hadn’t thought she was heading anywhere in particular until she found herself at the edge of the park.

  A woman with a stroller had just moved away from a bench. Maisie sluggishly walked toward it.

  When she sat down, it was as if whatever had been holding her together fell away. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed silently. Tears trickled between her stiff fingers and dribbled down her wrists.

  “Miss? Are you all right?” a man’s voice asked.

  She held her breath and nodded silently, unwilling to reveal her face to the stranger.

  “Is there someone I can call for you?”

  “It’s just allergies,” she choked out. “Please leave me alone.”

  “No offense, but you might want to go home if you want to be left alone.”

  She nodded and shifted her body away from the sound of his voice. There was too much background noise to tell if the man was walking away or not, but he didn’t say anything else.

  After thirty seconds, she was certain he’d moved on, and she lowered her wet hands. Blinking, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the bright light.