Lawfully Yours by Stacy Hoff Read Free Book Online Page B

voice so soft the words themselves wrap around me, he asks, “Are you sure this is what you want?”
    In a move contrary to my conscious self, I assuredly answer him, “Yes.”
    I take his hand and place it on my waist. I kiss his lips, first lightly and then deeper, quivering with anticipation. Entwining myself in his arms, I feel his heartbeat thumping strong enough to be my own. He breathes heavier, his body hardening. His passionate response ignites me. I burn.
    Awake, my nightgown clings to me, damp from sweat.

CHAPTER 7
    I’ve noticed things have changed at the office. Because my boss appreciates me, I have a confidence I haven’t had before. The development deal now done, I spend less time in town halls and more time in the office. I’m starting to recognize more attorneys. I even say hello to them. Weirder, some of them have introduced themselves to me. Is this office congeniality? I’m not sure, I haven’t experienced it before.
    Deep down I want friends at Grovas. Friendship is as tempting as chocolate donuts to a dieter. Luckily, the introductions have kept on coming.
    One such introduction is even friendlier than the others. I’m standing by Amber’s empty desk, rummaging around for a phone number Jordan needed. Having just come out of Jordan’s office, I’ve left his door open. A tall guy, looking about my age, comes up to me.
    “You must be Susan,” he says, extending his hand. “I’m Allen Regan.”
    “Hi, Allen,” I say, shaking his hand.
    “I work in commercial real estate too, but upstairs where the rest of the first and second year associates are. I’m a second year. Are you a first year?”
    “Yeah.”
    Allen grins broadly. “We call you guys ‘fresh meat.’”
    I laugh. “Do I want to know why?”
    “Well, let’s just say that with the hours Grovas makes us work, we take sick pleasure in watching the enthusiasm of the first year associates fade.”
    “Should I be worried?” I say with a smile.
    “Nah, it doesn’t seem like you scare easily. Too bad. Well, maybe I can scare you a different way—would you like to go downstairs to the building’s pub on Friday to meet the rest of the first and second year associates?”
    “That’s really nice, Allen. I’d love to go, if I can get away at a reasonable hour.”
    “I hope you can make it. I like to invite good looking women.”
    I’m floored. Good looking? Me? Sure, my mother keeps telling me I am, but who would rely on something like that? I’m always taken by surprise whenever a guy shows interest.
    My relationships never work out anyway. My thoughts flash back to my school years. Being an introvert, plus admittedly gawky (especially back in high school), it isn’t too surprising I wasn’t asked out. Luckily at college, I found the small classes to be very conducive to making friends. I spoke to quite a few guys in my English classes. I hung out with them but never clicked with anyone in particular. The guys were too much into fraternity life or obsessed with intramural sports to be a real love interest. Still they were fun, and we’d have group “dates,” all of us going to the student union’s movie theater or bowling alley. In law school, everyone—including me—spent all their time languishing in the library. Keeping up grades was a full time affair.
    My eyes catch the movement of Allen’s fidgeting, and I pop out of my trance, re-focusing on Allen. He isn’t bad looking. A slight build, a runner’s figure. Mousy hair color like mine. Straight nose, which is good. He certainly comes across as presentable and seems nice enough.
    Jordan walks out of his office. “Allen, here are the documents Carl wanted. Please deliver them to him now.”
    Allen nods stiffly, takes the papers from Jordan, and walks away. “Let me know,” he calls out over his shoulder.
    “Okay, thanks.” I turn around. Jordan’s door is now closed. I want to walk into his office and tell him that he acted very dismissively toward