He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say you could do that yet.”
She leaned over the side of the bed, fishing for her discarded bra. “Game’s over, Pretty Boy. New rules effective now. Office rules.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh, I see.”
Perdie’s own weight shifted as Carter rolled from the bed. She pretended not to watch, when he adjusted his erection as he walked to the bathroom. The tap turned on from the bathroom and then he returned, tossing the tiny vibrator back in her bag.
Even though, in her mind, she’d shut down any chance of future encounters, even though she’d already experienced a mind-blowing orgasm, desire coaxed back into her body. She should probably feel guilty for being the only one who’d had an orgasm. She could extend their game for a teeny bit longer to offer him a little, tiny quid pro quo.
“Carter.”
He turned at the sound of her voice. His muscular torso, hard and taut as his hand messily rubbed the hair at his nape.
“Do you expect me to return the favor now?”
His face softened once he processed the question. “I’d commit a series of unforgivable crimes for it, don’t get me wrong...but I just wanted to watch you come. Been thinking about making you come since you opened your mouth in that deposition room.”
She choked on her words. Well, fuck. “Carter...” She cleared her throat, and his eyebrows perked. “Will you bring me a cookie? I’m starving.”
Perdie sat crossed-legged at the end of the bed. The fun was over but at least she could fantasize about it in bed for a few weeks until some other hookup came along to whisk away the memories.
She peeled the plastic wrap off the greasy cookie and took a bite. A friendly distance stretched between them now, the sexual tension blown off like so much dust in the wind. Now, they could be cool with each other. They could forget anything weird had even happened between them and act like mature, professional adults.
“So what’s going on with you at your firm?”
His question made her stop midchew. “Why do you keep asking all these questions?” She dusted crumbs from her lap.
“You seem...paranoid?”
She whacked his biceps, and his hands went up like he was under arrest.
“Okay, okay. Like I said. Someone with your talent should have made partner by now. Or is that not how it works over on your side of the coast?”
“It might usually work that way. I came to my position through a different path than most.”
“So no summer clerk program?”
Perdie laughed. “Oh sweetie, not even close.”
He inclined his chin. “Go on, what’s the story then.” Reaching over, he broke off a chunk of cookie and popped it in his mouth. “This is terrible.” When he went for seconds, she slapped his hand.
“Get your own.”
“I like yours better. Tell me the story.”
“Okay, fine.” She took a beat to swallow. “After I graduated, the economy went straight into the trash, and I was saddled with a mortgage-sized student loan from a shitty law school with no prospects to speak of and no clue what to do...so I got one of those recruiters who hooks you up with contract gigs. You know the ones, where they pay you nothing and you work in the basement?”
Carter shrugged. “Sure.”
Not a chance he’d ever had to consider that kind of work.
“Anyway, that got my foot in the door at Joy and Schulz.”
“And you wowed them so much with your work that they hired you as an associate on the spot?” He winked.
She nudged his foot with her toe. “Not exactly. I was assigned to a case under one of the managing partners. Lots of rushed deadlines and things like that. Well, I had nothing better going on, so I pulled all-nighters to get work done. The work was monotonous, but it was easy to bill hour after hour. Because I would always hang around upstairs late into the evening with the attorney leading the case, one day I decided to...move into an empty office.”
She paused, laughing at herself. “Smallest office on the floor too. Look, that might not seem like a big deal to you, but before all that I had only ever worked jobs that required me to stand behind a counter all day. So an office was a big deal to me. Nobody said a word, maybe because we Southerners are too polite. And, well, I kept on. Until one day I walked in, and an IT guy was setting up my new firm computer and work-issued cell phone and there was an official printed offer sitting on my desk.”
“So, you moved your way into a job.”
She gave a rueful smile. “Sometimes you have to take things that aren’t even there.”
“Sounds pretty impressive to me?”
“Maybe, but I don’t know that I’ve ever been able to shake the stigma of not going through the formal interview process. They didn’t choose me. Even after so many years, I still feel like everybody’s assistant sometimes. Not worthy. I’ve watched three other attorneys who came in after me make partner.”
“That’s not right. You should demand they consider you.”
Perdie laughed. “Oh, you sweet summer child. Tell me something, Carter. What do your parents do for a living?”
Carter scratched the top of his head. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I already know. Your mother’s a federal judge.”
“My other mother is an artist.”
“Did you know that my mother is a bartender at a biker bar called Shooters? Such a cliché, right? You and I? We don’t come from the same kinda place.”
