Breaching the Contract(4)By: Chantal Fernando
He’s another lawyer here.
And technically my boss.
I knew Jaxon had another partner, but I never did any research on him, since the position I was interviewing for was with Jaxon directly. This is Lawyering 101; always do your research. Dammit.
Thank God I didn’t have that coffee with him, because things could’ve been much worse.
Play it cool, Kat.
I force a smile and nod. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
He doesn’t look impressed, if the dull expression on his face is anything to go by. So we had a moment, big deal. Would I have been interested in him? Sure. He’s good-looking. Compelling, for some reason. Intriguing. I don’t know what it is, but I was drawn to him in that brief moment we met. But that was before I knew who he was, and now that I do, I can forget about it, put it behind us. I am a professional after all.
“You too, Kat. You’re in good hands here with Jaxon.”
“I know,” I say boldly, making Jaxon laugh.
“We’re just off to visit a client in jail. I don’t know where Yvonne is. Maybe she’s on her break. I’ll put the voice mail on,” Jaxon says, then looks to me. “You ready?”
I nod, grabbing my bag, making sure my notepad and pen are inside, and follow him to the door, brushing past Tristan as I leave. I can’t help but glance at him, our eyes connecting and holding. His give away nothing; they’re empty, lifeless.
The man should play poker.
I look away and follow Jaxon.
I mean, it could be a worse first day, right?
I TAKE A BITE of my chicken salad sandwich and reread the document in front of me. We’ve been working for hours, and Jaxon bought us some food to get us through until our meeting.
“Did you notice anything yet?” he asks me, amusement in his tone.
He keeps challenging me, pushing me, but even if I miss something he doesn’t hold it against me, he just shows me. He’s a great teacher.
“I did,” I tell him, feeling proud. I point to the sentence. “The man is clearly lying. In his statement he said that he hadn’t seen the victim, but the records showed he visited the hospital.”
“Good,” he commends. “Those small details are what helps salvage a case sometimes. Every detail matters.” He glances at his watch. “We better leave now, or we’ll be late for our meeting with the prosecutors.”
We head to the meeting, and I watch in awe as Jaxon kicks ass. That prosecutor didn’t know what hit her as soon as he opened his mouth. After our minor victory in getting a piece of evidence suppressed, we return to the office.
“Cool shoes,” Yvonne says as I walk back in.
I glance down at my nude pumps and smile. “Thanks. I wish I could wear heels as high as you do.”
She’s in red stilettos today, and I’m sure if she stepped on someone’s foot they’d have to go to the hospital.
She points to her chair, grinning. “That’s as far as I go, Kat. I can wear these shoes because I hardly move from that chair.”
I laugh as she sits down and waggles her brows at me. “You going to grab some lunch?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m going to grab a juice. Do you want anything?”
I’ve been here three weeks now, and I really like working with Jaxon. While he’s tough, and has high standards, he also treats me as an equal and allows me to find my own footing. You can tell the man has a heart made of gold, even though I get the impression he’s not someone you’d ever want to mess with.
“No, I’m good, sweetie,” Yvonne says, apologizing as the phone starts ringing and she moves to answer it. I wave at her and then head outside. It’s cold, and I pull my beige suede jacket around me tightly. I turn left and almost bump right into Tristan. We’ve been avoiding each other ever since that day we met on the street. It’s just a little awkward, even though I guess it doesn’t have to be. We both have busy schedules, his more so than mine, so it’s been fairly easy to get through my day without having to see him for more than a brief passing moment, unless he comes into Jaxon’s office to chat with him and I just happen to be in there. I’ve noticed the two of them are friends and check in with each other at least once a day. If I’m honest with myself, I’m avoiding him for a reason. When I’m around him I don’t like the way my pulse starts to race a little, and the way my gaze is drawn directly to those eyes of his. . . . There’s a weird tension between us, and it’s simply easier to avoid that than to question why it’s there.