“Sorry if I overstepped, but I heard her and just couldn’t resist the chance to knock her down a peg. I hate bullies.” She turned around and Mark peered down at her as she tried to lighten the mood.

  “No, you didn’t overstep at all. Thanks. I appreciate it.” A smile spread across her face.

  “I’m going to have to talk to my lawyer about keeping her away from this place. Apparently, the judge saying she can’t come here isn’t enough to keep her away.”

  “Apparently not. Ready for that drink now?”

  5

  Mark couldn’t help but laugh at Jen’s question. He was most definitely ready for that drink. The gnawing pit in his stomach that appeared whenever Cheryl was near was back in full force, and he believed that a nice stiff drink was the only course of action to get rid of it.

  “Yeah, let’s get that drink.” He gave her a slight smile and ghosted his hand along her back to guide her into The Bramble. The pit ebbed away a little when he looked at her. Her sandy blonde hair was still pulled up in a high ponytail. It was a bit lopsided, with hair falling out and caressing her neck. She looked a little ridiculous carrying around that huge sketch pad, but she didn’t seem care.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder, her face breaking out into a big smile, and he nearly tripped. She was a stunning woman. He’d nearly choked when he’d seen her rush into the drawing class right before he walked in. Keira had been begging him to model for her class for ages, so he’d finally given in. It didn’t pay much and, considering how much he needed to buy Cheryl out, it was a complete waste of time, but every little bit helped. Plus, it got his mind off his financial worries for a little bit.

  They rounded the corner out of the alley and the sign for The Bramble shined down the block.

  “If you own this place, why are you working as a nude model for an art class?”

  “I … my friend Keira has been asking me to do it for ages and a little extra money can’t hurt,” he said.

  “I take it whatever happened back in the alley and those papers means you’re worried about something happening to your bar,” she said, gesturing to the envelope in his hands.

  “Something like that,” he grumbled and shrugged.

  “You don’t want to talk about this, do you,” she asked, peering over at him.

  “Not really,” he said.

  “Fair enough. So, does this apology only come with one drink or might there be a possibility of squeezing a couple more out of you?” Her best sad puppy dog eyes were on full display.

  “You might be able to squeeze another one out of me.” He chuckled and held the door open for her, then followed her into The Bramble.

  “Hey Charlie, get this lady any drink she’d like. I’ll be right back,” Mark called out to his bartender. She hopped up onto one of the bar stools and attempted to balance her bag and sketch pad on her lap.

  “Do you want me to take those up to the office? I can stash it there out of the way,” he offered.

  “That would be great. Thanks!” She pulled her wallet out before handing him her bag. She moved to hand him her sketch pad, but pulled it back at the last second.

  Don’t worry, it will be safe in my office,” he reassured her. She peered up at him and bit her bottom lip.

  “You won’t look?”

  “No, I won’t open the pad and look.”

  Nodding, she handed it over to him.

  “You really don’t need your wallet tonight. It’s on the house.”

  “It’s okay. I won’t take advantage of your generosity … much.” A sly smile spread across her face before she turned around and placed her wallet on the bar.

  “Suit yourself,” he said, before heading to the back of the bar and up the stairs to his office. He jogged up the stairs with Jen’s pad tucked under his arm and her bag in his hand. The envelope from Cheryl was in the other. Unlocking the door, he chucked the envelope across the room and placed Jen’s things on the leather couch next to the door. He’d look at those papers when he was good and ready. Positive that the papers were going to be a kick in the teeth, he wasn’t quite ready to read them over.

  What he was ready for was never seeing his ex again. He had been since he caught her in bed with some model boy toy. Even with all that crap pointing the giant red arrow toward the Big D, ending the marriage felt like a failure. It was a failure that could bring all that he’d built down on top of him. The longer he delayed finalizing the papers, the more time he had to get the money he needed to pay her. It would have to be soon, though.

  Anytime he thought about Cheryl, that gnawing pit opened in his stomach and his hands got clammy and shaky. Who would have thought that things would end up like this? Well, according to all his friends and family, they had, but no one had the balls to tell him at the time. Apparently, love is deaf, dumb, and blind when it comes to some people. Unfortunately, he was one of those people. They’d only lasted three years.

  When he brought up the possibility of starting a family, that was when Cheryl decided that a younger man without so many expectations was more her speed. He’d only wished that she’d decided to divorce him before he came home early one night. Catching his wife in their bed with another guy after working half the night was a gut punch if one ever existed.

  Of course, that was the other excuse she used for her infidelity—The Bramble. So much time spent at the bar and not enough time with her. She’d used every excuse in the book to try to smooth things out with him after he’d filed for divorce, but he wasn’t buying it anymore. That was when the venom came out. And here he was, fighting for his bar—a place he’d built from the brink of collapse. And she wanted to take that away from him. An occasion like this called for booze—a lot of booze.

  When he sat down on the couch, Jen’s sketch pad flopped down onto the floor and the front page flipped open. He picked up her pad and stared at the page. It wasn’t the sketch she’d done of him. It was of a crowd of people somewhere. He couldn’t tell the exact location, but it almost looked like a renaissance painting with the way everyone posed, except they were all in regular, everyday clothes. The level of detail and artistry that she could capture in a few pencil strokes took his breath away. Flipping to the next page, Mark found her sketch of him. It was a testament to her ability that seeing himself posed nude didn’t make him want to rip the page out of her pad and light it on fire.

  Was this how he looked to other people? Well, with clothes, of course. Was this how she saw him?

  Putting down the pad, he strode to the door, feeling a bit lighter, and locked it behind him. He jogged down the stairs and back to Jen. Back to Jen—that had a nice ring to it. Shaking his head, he pushed that out of his mind. He wasn’t in any place to be in a relationship with anyone, let alone someone like her. She seemed like a feisty, no-nonsense kind of woman and he really appreciated that, but didn’t think she would be able to put up with the shit show that was his life right now.

  He couldn’t get over how talented she was as an artist. He made it to the bottom of the stairs and watched her from the back of the bar, wondering if she did it for a living. The street lights were shining through the front window, silhouetting her as she took a sip of her drink. She laughed at something Charlie said and he couldn’t help but smile. She was magnificent, and right then, he wished he had some artistic talent to capture her, but he knew he wouldn’t do her justice. Stick figures were not good ways to capture someone’s beauty.

  “Excuse me, Miss, could I buy you a drink?”

  “You already did,” she said, smirking and tipping her glass at him.

  “Touché.” He signaled to Charlie for his usual. “What are you drinking?” he said, sliding onto the stool next to her.

  “I’m drinking your signature Bramble Bombshell.” She put the cocktail straw between her lips and took a sip.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I found my new favorite drink. This is outstanding and I fear probably a lot more loaded with booze than it seems.”

  “You would be correct. Don’t have more than three, if you don’t want to have a really rough morning.”

  “I’ll be sure to remember that.” She took another sip and finished off her drink. Charlie, always the consummate professional, had another ready for her before she set that one down. He slid one over to Mark, too. Holding his glass out to her, Mark proposed a toast.

  “To new friendships.” He tipped his glass toward her.

  “To new friendships.” She smiled at him and clinked her glass to his.

  6

  Jen sat through yet another conference call. Thinking back to her night out at The Bramble, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d even brought a pad into the meeting room with her, something she’d stopped herself from doing before because of her tendency to sketch, preferring to take notes on her computer. The pencil in her hand calmed her and cleared her mind. The call dragged on into its second hour and she hadn’t uttered more than ten words, and five of them were introducing herself. But she was on the clock regardless of how many words she spoke, so she would take it. This month’s billable hours were going to be stellar.

  Her team was equally preoccupied as they sat in on the call. Some were reviewing other documents while others were taking notes. They worked well together and she could count on them to get the job done, whatever it was. At least that was one part of the job that hadn’t been as stressful as she’d anticipated. She enjoyed mentoring other young attorneys and helping them figure out what it was they wanted out of their profession. Hell, she’d even helped a few realize it wasn’t for them at all. If only she’d taken that kind of advice for herself.

  Jen glanced down at her pad, at what she drew. It was Mark’s profile from last night. They’d spent almost three hours at the bar talking about everything from movies to booze. Charlie made sure that their glasses were never empty. She’d also met Roxanne, the genius chef of The Bramble. Her small-plate dishes were to die for, and Jen was a picky eater. Everything was melt-in-your-mouth delicious and made her want to go back as soon as she could. The regular lunch was great, but those happy hour treats were probably going to end up making her put on at least ten pounds this year. Not that she couldn’t use it—the stress of the move and the grind of being on the partner track was not doing her any favors in the body department.

  A tapping on the conference room door signaled to her that their meeting time was over. She hadn’t even noticed. So much for her contribution to the negotiations. Her team was already on their way out the door. Gathering all her papers, she headed out, letting the assistant prepare the room for the next meeting.

  “Getting lots of work done, Jen?” Chad, the co-worker from hell, sneered. He waited in the hallway for the next meeting. “Seems you’re really giving it your all, huh?” He pointed toward her writing pad, which she hadn’t closed. He was always one to pick on her for the slightest thing. She would have sworn before entering this office that guys like him didn’t exist outside of ‘80s teen movies, yet here he was, attempting to drive her up the wall at every turn.

  “Good afternoon to you too, Chad,” she said, passing him in the hall.

  “It would seem that your drawing abilities are much better than your legal skills.” She stopped abruptly before turning back to Chad. Checking up and down the hall, she made sure that she wasn’t going to cause a scene in front of any other lawyers, especially those on her team.

  “What is your problem, Chad? I’ve been putting up with your hostile attitude since I got here. I don’t get it. What have I ever done to you?” She crossed her arms over her chest, ready for whatever he dished out. The major prick.

  “Your presence here makes a mockery of this firm. Unlike you, some of us had to work hard to get where we are. We didn’t have daddy’s money and connections to get us where we needed to be in life. The fact that you’re even up for partner is a slap in the face to lawyers who actually do work real here.”

  “Wow, you’re such a pompous asshole. I’m here every goddamned weekend working on my cases and leading my team. I’m doing my work and then some to get shit done here. Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass you’d notice that. But I don’t have to prove myself to you. The partners obviously saw what they needed to see when they recruited me. So, you can take your jealousy and shove it up your ass for all I care.”

  “My partnership evaluation is next week. Is yours scheduled yet?” She faltered and Chad pounced.

  “It seems that maybe you’re not going to be able to buy your way into the position like you thought you would.” His smirk made her want to punch him right in the face.

  “There is always room for more people at the table, Chad. That seems to be something you’ve forgotten. And no, my meeting isn’t scheduled yet, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean that I am trying to buy my way into anything. I’m working hard to get there, just like you.” He scoffed and she had had enough. She needed to get out of there before she decked him.

  She stalked off and shoved her way into her office, slamming the door behind her. That little arrogant asshole. He was just like everyone else she’d ever come up against for anything. They always assumed it was her dad that got her where she was, not the fact that she busted her ass day in and day out doing great work.

  Jen spent the rest of the day and the early part of the evening shoveling through mountains of contracts and handing off her comments and revisions to the associates on her team. It seemed like these things were never-ending. At least they were more interesting than standard mergers and acquisitions. Movie studio contracts were just as complicated, but far more interesting. Seeing what film franchises were coming up, who might get the roles, and what deals certain celebs were able to strike made the mundane a lot easier to swallow.

  Before she knew it, there was a knock on the door asking for dinner orders. If you were there after eight in the evening, you got dinner on the firm and a taxi home. She glanced at the clock on her computer and cursed. She’d meant to get out of there early tonight. Maybe six at the latest, but it looked like it would be another long slough. The contracts never seemed to end.

  Maybe she should stop by The Bramble for a drink. It wasn’t too far and perhaps she could say hi to Mark. Maybe he was there tonight. Shaking her head, she pushed that idea aside. It was one thing to hang out with a guy for a day and try to piss off his ex. It was a whole other thing to start jumping in with a guy when there were only a few more months until her promotion review would come through.

  She checked over the menu that the delivery guy held out to her and got her usual.

  “I’ll have the turkey club on whole wheat, side salad with bleu cheese dressing, and a lemonade. Thanks.”

  “Okay, it will be another forty-five minutes until delivery.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He backed out of her office and she rested her head on the desk. What the hell was she doing? Why was she still here? Why was she doing any of this? She didn’t even like being a lawyer. The little voice nagged her in the back of her head. She needed to prove she could do this, prove it to herself and to her father. He’d always underestimated her, whether it came to her studies or her art. He never thought she could make it on her own. She’d show him she could do it. She’d become partner and then maybe finally get a life.

  7

  Spending all your time in an office has a way of zapping all the energy you have some days. Jen walked through a nearby park with her heels off. The grass tickled the bottoms of her feet and the fresh smell called to her to lay down and take a nap, but she knew grass stains on her suit would not go over well in the office.

  For months, she hadn’t minded being cooped up in that office for practically fifteen hours a day, but now, not getting out into the sunshine made her restless. Vowing to stay out for only ten more minutes, she looked up and let the sun shine on her face and warm her skin. Her phone vibrated and she glanced down at her screen.

  Dad: Has my secretary contacted you with the details?

  Jen ran her hands over her face and sat on a nearby bench, taking a deep breath before replying.

  Jen: Yes, Dad.

  Dad: I’ll be arriving on Sunday morning.

  Her phone vibrated with an incoming call before she could text back. He knew she was there and willing to talk. No dodging possible. She answered the call.

  “Hi, Dad,” she sighed. Today was shaping up to be a good day.

  “Hello, Jennifer. I don’t know why you always make me chase after you just to have a simple conversation.”

  “You know how things can be when you’re on the partner track and working on a lot of projects. Not home, always on the go. I would think you more than anyone would be able to understand how hard it can be to get any facetime, let alone phone time with someone that busy.” When she was growing up, it was almost like her father preferred to live in the office, especially after her mother died. She’d ended up wandering around the house on her own, taking care of herself. Of course, he’d hired great nannies and cleaners, but sometimes a kid wanted her dad.

  “I only wish you weren’t wasting your energy on frivolous projects like the ones you have there.”

  “Dad, I assure you that studio mergers and major film franchise agreements are not frivolous. At least these companies produce things that people enjoy. Creative things.” Her father scoffed, but she continued. “Yes, I said it, I said the word ‘creative.’ Mergers and acquisitions of large multinational companies that have their hands in everything was a lot less enjoyable for me, Dad. Sorry that it disappoints you, but do we need to rehash this conversation again?”

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Jennifer.”

  “Neither do I, Dad.”

  “I’ll be flying in late Saturday night, so dinner will be out of the question, but a brunch on Sunday will fit my schedule nicely. Did you get the arrangements?”

 

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