Beyond Bliss (6 page)

"Can you stop interrupting me?" she hissed impatiently. "I'm getting there."

"Well, do it faster. No pun intended." Liz smirked.  

Sophie scowled. “So the morning after…”

Liz performed a mini drum roll on the desk.

“He whips out a vibrator. And before you ask, yes it was brand new. It was in the package. And then he says to me that he got it for me on his trip, and he knows it can’t kiss me like he can but maybe we can use it.”

Liz frowned in confusion.

“Liz,” Sophie began slowly, “That night we were at the Grill, that was what I told you…remember? A vibrator couldn’t kiss me like a man could…” she trailed off, leaving it to Liz to read in between the lines.

“Well, that’s sure as fuck one strange ass coincidence. I’m still not getting it though. Blame it on sleep deprivation thanks to your goddaughter. Why exactly is this a bad thing? You guys think alike.”

“Liz, he was at the Grill that night. He sat right next to us, and he heard everything we talked about, and then he made plans to pick me up the night I went trolling for sex.”

For once, her best friend was speechless.  Her mouth pursed in a small “o.”

A few seconds ticked by in silence.

“You’re
fucking joking.”

“Do you think I would throw a vibrator at a man’s head just for kicks? Do you even think I’d pick one up for kicks?”

“Okay, at some point, we need to work on your aversion to sex toys, but oh my God.  You know I hate clichés, but you go girl.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Sophie squealed. The question ended on a high-pitched note. At the unpleasant thought that she was beginning to sound like her mother, she cringed. “Really? Are you nuts?” she asked in a much lower voice.

“You know it. But not about this—definitely not about this.  If you were going to lose your virginity again, at least it was to someone who works for Orgasms ‘R Us and who does not subscribe to the school of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.” 

Sophie’s incredulous look didn’t fade.

“Well, at least you’re back on the proverbial horse. Riding on top of the world, cowgirl. Wait, were you on top at all? Forget it,” she said quickly when Sophie blushed deeply. “You broke the curse. Now, next time won’t be so hard.”

“There is not going to be a next time,” Sophie said adamantly.

Liz gave her a pitying look. “Honey, please, just do it for me at least. You’ll thank me later on. Once you squeeze a large melon out of your va-jay-jay and said melon becomes the reason you no longer sleep, shave your legs, and have sex, all you will have to fall back on are the memories. Memories and quickies, one of which will result in another melon. After that, forget it. You blink, and then it’s menopause and by the time you hit your second sexual peak in life, he’s diddling his secretary, you divorce him and take half of everything and you either become a cougar or start seeing a gentle, older widower who has to rely on Viagra. Trust me, you want to fit in as much sex as you can before any of that happens. It’s worse than turning thirty. All downhill from there,” she said sagely.

“Sam and Hannah have slept through the night since they were born,” Sophie pointed out, referring to Liz’s babies, both under the age of two. “And every time you and Mark have sex, you think it’s okay to divulge every detail. Which just happens to be every single day.”

Liz shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Happens to a lot of people, although, if he fucked around on me, he knows I’d cut off his balls and force-feed them to him for the main course. And you’ve been ‘spared’,” she used air quotes, “from the details for the last two weeks because you’ve been intolerable to be around.”

“You and Mark haven’t been screwing like Beatrix Potter characters because of me?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “We both have needs. Plus, I’m this close to convincing him to pierce his—”

“Enough!” Sophie held her hands over her ears and began to hum. Liz was a manipulative master, which was just one of the traits that made her a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom. 

“You done being mad at me?” she asked smugly.

“Yes! Damn it.”

A satisfied expression spread over her face. “Good. Let’s grab a drink after work.  Mark has baby duty tonight. Maybe I’ll get tipsy and jump him when I get home.”

“No!  You’ve done enough. Anyway, I’m up to my neck with the due diligence for the Raj Corp Bank merger.” Perfect excuse. Even if it was true. The sheer amount of work on her plate had been a blessed distraction over the last few weeks.

“About that—the reason I came in was actually not to break you down, believe it or not. Carter reassigned it to me,” she said unhappily. “I’m supposed to get the files from you.”

Sophie’s brow marred in confusion. “How come?”

“Well, he wasn’t happy about it, I’ll tell you that much. I don’t know a whole lot else, but you’re getting some big deal to work through. Apparently, you were specifically requested as the lead attorney, hotshot.” Liz’s words held no malice, although if they were both being honest, she was more the hotshot attorney than Sophie.

While Sophie worked hard and was good at what she did, Liz thrived off of it. If there was a big deal in the works, Liz deserved it, but if a client was requesting a specific attorney, even Carter’s hands were tied. 

“How come Carter isn’t telling me himself?”

It was a good question. 

Twelve years ago, she’d first met him when he’d shown up for her father’s funeral.  

“Something about having to leave early because of Laura’s birthday,” she shrugged.

Sophie frowned. She was incredibly close with his wife, and her birthday was not for another six months.

Something smelled fishy, but Liz was oblivious as she continued, “But you guys have a meeting tomorrow morning, the client’s coming in. Some real-estate bigwig slash corporate guru. This is your big shot. Maybe you can marry him and we’ll both retire—you can support both me and your god-children. Mark can fend for himself.”

She began to organize the files and email her notes on the Raj Corp Bank merger to Liz, only half listening to her friend. Her non-committal grunts were no match for Liz’s tactics, and somehow she was bullied into drinks again. Liz made her look up the reviews for a new bar that had opened around the corner, but as she recited some of the reviews, her mind was elsewhere. Why would a huge client specifically request her? Most of her clients were not-for-profits. The companies she did work for were all small to mid-sized, and although they’d had good experiences with her, she was usually paired with another attorney. Lead attorney? 

Her unease grew.

When had she tumbled down the rabbit hole? And why couldn’t she shake the feeling that even though this would get her into the big leagues, it was also going to get her into big trouble? 

Chapter Six

She headed to the sideboard the moment she entered the conference room. She’d already taken two aspirin and chugged two bottles of water, but the light pounding in her head stubbornly refused to go away.

Coffee. She needed coffee. She poured a healthy cup of caffeine and kept it black in the hopes that it would jolt her back into the world of the living. 

The night before, she’d matched Liz, martini for martini. Four martinis later, it was a miracle that she wasn’t kissing the floor. Her memories of getting home were fuzzy, and her eyes peeled open at the ungodly hour of five a.m. Unable to fall back asleep for the additional two hours she desperately wanted, she showered, haphazardly threw on clothes, and headed into the office.

It was just as well. She’d spent two hours finalizing the transition work to complete the handover to Liz before heading into Carter’s conference room to meet with her new client. 

The new, uber-wealthy client that had requested her specifically. 

She hadn’t wanted to seem ungrateful, so she’d kept her concerns to herself, but something was rotten in Denmark.

She sank into one of the plush leather chairs at the middle of the oblong table and face-planted into her hands. The day was already dragging on, and it was only nine thirty in the morning. Liz hadn’t even made it into the office yet.

“Sophie!” Carter boomed cheerfully.

Her head snapped up as he entered the room. Carter McPherson, managing partner of McPherson and Smith, was a small man with a loud voice. 

A loud and angry one. 

He was not one to boom cheerfully. It was even joked throughout the office, albeit in hushed whispers, that Carter had exited the womb with a scowl on his face. 

Carter had been a friend of her father’s during their adolescence, and she’d met him during her father’s funeral twelve years ago. He’d been a gruff, constant presence in her life ever since, watching over both her and her mom.

But even in his nicest, most intimate moments, Carter did not
boom cheerfully.

Sophie stared at him suspiciously. Something was definitely up his sleeve. “Where’s my new client? And by the way, why’d you lie about Laura’s birthday?”

His face turned ruddy, but he ignored her, instead raising one of his bushy brows at her. “Not even a good morning to greet me? After I assign you the client of the century?”

“G’morning. And you know you didn’t do it out of the goodness of your heart, I know they requested me.”

He shook his head at her and muttered something under his breath. “If I’d have known that you and Liz were going to be double the trouble, I’d have never hired both of you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, something most of his employees would have never dared. “Save it old man. You know you love us. Now what gives? Something is going on.”

He looked at his watch. “Client’s on his way up to reception as we speak. Should be here in a few minutes. I wanted to grab you before to let you know that we’re reassigning all of your other clients. Your new client has requested that you work with them exclusively.”

Her mouth dropped open. 

This was unheard of. Carter wasn’t known for reducing anyone’s workload. If anything, he heaped it on. Either this client was going to be a bitch to handle or they’d paid the firm an astronomical retainer.

Or Carter had undergone a lobotomy without telling anyone.

Her mouth worked but no sound escaped. She stared at him while he continued to look at her expectantly. “I don’t understand.”

He resorted to his signature glare. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to look a gift horse in the mouth? Anyway, it’s not up for you to understand. Or even me, for that matter.  Their retainer is more than your current client list combined. Clearly, you made a good impression on someone important.” 

He looked at his watch again. “And you should be saying hello to your new client right about…”

“Now.” 

A magnetic voice washed over her with that simple, three-letter word. She felt it in the very core of her being. The unspoken command. The smooth, seductive quality of his voice.

She froze, her eyes stuck on Carter. 

Carter, who happened to be beaming again.

She didn’t even need to turn in his direction to know that it was
him
. His presence was unmistakable.

A dull rush of sound, white noise, thrummed through her eardrums while her brain ceased working.

And now her beloved boss had turned into an unknowing traitor, over by the door and vigorously pumping out a never-ending handshake. “Ahhh, Mr. Sinclair. So glad you could make it.  Sophie’s incredibly pleased to be working with you.” 

It was dread, not excitement, coursing through her veins at that very moment. 

Definitely not excitement.

Or lust.

This was impossible.

A city of millions, where she rarely even saw the same person on the way to work during her commute. 

But she slowly turned her head, and saw that, in fact, it was entirely possible. By now, he was diplomatically extracting his hand from Carter’s.

“Lucas, please,” he murmured, but his slate gray eyes were staring directly at her. Piercing into her very soul. A soul that was still paralyzed in shock.

He moved quickly, his large frame surprisingly lithe given his size. In no time, he was standing next to her, his intense gaze unwavering.

She remained seated, but mentally, she was running through the Lamaze exercises she’d learned in class when she’d gone as Liz’s coach.

Focus on your breathing. This is not happening. You’re superimposing his face on your new client. This is not happening. Breathe.

“Sophie,” Carter hissed, all sorts of warnings implicit in his tone.

Right.

Client.

Manners.

Woodenly, she stood and faced him. She didn’t offer her hand, but he took it anyway, raising it to firm lips that had been branded into her memories.

Tiny flames licked at her nerve endings, and she felt that delicious ache grip between her thighs.

She was burning in the fiery pits of hell. That was the only explanation.

“Miss Harlow,” the devil himself said in distinctly low tones. “I’ve been looking forward to this meeting for the last few weeks.”