Read Legal Affairs - Violation: Legal Affairs Serial Romance Online

Authors: Sawyer Bennett

Tags: #funny, #humor, #Contemporary, #legal, #romance, #erotic, #adult, #lawyer, #steamy, #love, #sexy, #law

Legal Affairs - Violation: Legal Affairs Serial Romance

LEGAL AFFAIRS
Vol. 3 - Violation

By Sawyer Bennett

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2014 by Sawyer Bennett

Published by Big Dog Books

ISBN: 978-1-940883-07-6

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

Find Sawyer on the web!
www.sawyerbennett.com
www.twitter.com/bennettbooks
www.facebook.com/bennettbooks

Table of Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11

The rest of this
week has gone remarkably well considering on Monday I cut ties with
Matt. Well, personal ties anyway. I still had to face him every day
as my employer and, while slightly awkward, I was weathering the
storm.

My first true test
was the very next day… Tuesday, when I had to listen to
Lorraine gush about her date with Matt. I got a full-blown novel on
their evening together, even down to what the china pattern looked
like at the fancy five-star restaurant he’d taken her to, and
the fact he ordered a two-hundred dollar bottle of champagne for both
of them to drink.

Asshole hadn’t
even bought me a Big Mac, and I’d made him howl with pleasure.
Where’s the gratitude?

Yes, I was still a
little bitter, but I didn’t let it affect the way I was around
Matt. There was no way I was ever going to let him know that my
feelings were still hurt and that, annoyingly enough, I missed him a
little.

So, whenever we had
to interact at the office, I gave him my most pleasant smile, and I
even made sure I answered every question he posed my way with a “Yes,
sir,” or a “No, sir.” And yes, I danced an internal
dance of glee when his teeth would clench together and that jaw
muscle would pop every time I did that.

Sometimes, life was
all about the little pleasures.

Past those few
interactions, I kept my head down and concentrated on my work. It was
driving me a little batty because I had run into a few roadblocks on
the
Jackson
case, but I was nowhere near ready to go ask Matt
for help, so I dug my heels in and tried to solve my problems on my
own.

The brightest part
of my week was hearing from Cal. True to his word, he sent me an
email Monday night and invited me to lunch on Thursday. Still
smarting from Matt’s refusal to treat me even remotely like a
human being with feelings, I gladly accepted and even made sure I
wore a pretty dress that clung nicely to my curves. I even curled my
hair.

When I walked into
the office kitchen Thursday morning to get a cup of coffee, Matt was
in there sitting at one of the tables and reading the paper. He
glanced up when he heard me walk in, and did a double take over my
appearance. For a brief moment, his lips started to curve up in an
appreciative smile and I thought he might compliment me, but then one
of the staff pool secretaries walked in and we started talking.

Yes, it was evil of
me, but when she complimented me on how great my dress was, I
couldn’t help myself when I said, “Thanks… I have
a lunch date today and wanted to look nice.”

My back was to Matt
so I have no clue what his reaction was, but he immediately stood up
and walked out of the kitchen.

So, back to my lunch
date.

Cal is pretty
awesome. We meet at a great little Cuban restaurant and spend an hour
and a half just talking and laughing. He’s down to earth and
completely charming. I find out he’s been practicing law for
ten years but is completely dissatisfied with doing insurance defense
work.

When I ask what he
really wants to do, he tells me with a sheepish look, “Honestly…
I’d love to do the type of work Matt does.”

He says it with
admiration, and I understand exactly how he feels. As a lawyer, Matt
is someone you would want to aspire to be like.

As a lover…
not so much.

“So what’s
with you and Matt? He seems a little antagonistic toward you,”
I ask. I don’t tell him that Matt had warned me off, because
that would imply Matt had a personal reason to do so, and that is
still very much a secret.

Cal’s face
tightens just a bit, although he tries to give me an apologetic
smile. “Actually, that’s kind of personal if you don’t
mind. Matt and I have a history together, and it’s not good.”

I reach across the
table and grab his hand, because I can tell that I provoked some dark
feelings. “Not a problem. Forget I even asked. In fact, let’s
just agree that Matt Connover has no place being involved in our
conversation.”

Cal rewards me with
smile filled with gratitude that I didn’t push the subject, and
we lapse into a truly scintillating discussion about tort reform.
Well, it’s actually more of a debate than a discussion, seeing
as how technically Cal’s practice of law and my practice of law
are on two opposite ends of the spectrum. Still, I can’t tell
you how refreshing it is to be with someone that may disagree about
my opinion, but still respects me enough to listen to it.

Bitterly, I remind
myself that Cal is proving to be everything that Matt isn’t.
Cal seems totally interested in me and wants to spend time with me
outside of the bedroom. Well, I have no clue if he wants to spend
time with me in the bedroom, but I’m just going to assume he
does because… well, he’s a guy.

After Cal finishes
paying for the bill, he looks at me with his warm brown eyes even as
he tugs on the tie at his neck. A sign of pure nervousness, so I gave
him an encouraging smile.

“McKayla…
I was wondering if you’d go with me to the Patron’s Gala
for the New York State Trial Lawyers Association next week? It’s
a black tie affair… I thought it would be fun.”

I stare at Cal and
blink a few times, not quite sure what to say.

Gah, what is wrong
with me?

My immediate
reaction should be to say yes. Any girl would be happy to go out with
someone as handsome and successful as Cal.

But my first thought
is,
What if Matt changes his mind and comes begging for my
forgiveness?

The mere thought
that I would forestall moving forward with someone that could be very
good for me, all for the barest possibility that someone that was
probably very bad for me might come running, causes bile to back up
in my throat.

I am a pathetic
mess, and I’m actually a bit ashamed of myself.

Before I can talk
myself out of it or think one minute further on it, I give Cal a
radiant smile and say, “I’d love to go with you.”

By the time Friday
rolls around, there is no denying it. I am going to have to break
down and seek Matt’s help with the
Jackson
case. I’ve
finished all of my research on biomechanical engineering and even
interviewed three potential expert witnesses to hire.

The only problem
now, is I have no clue who to hire and whether or not what they are
charging is fair. Only Matt can answer that, and I need his guidance
and help with this type of thing. Before I can change my mind, I send
him a quick email asking for ten minutes of his time. He responds
back to me immediately and tells me that he’s in the office all
day, and to just come down to his office when I’m ready.

That throws me for a
loop because Matt is always meticulous about planning his day out. No
one can get into his office and take a minute of his time unless it’s
pre-approved and scheduled ahead of time.

The mere fact that I
have unfettered access to him all day puts my nerves into overdrive,
and I keep putting the meeting off for one reason or another. When it
gets close to six PM, I finally hitch up my britches and decide I
need to get it over with. I know Matt is still here because he rarely
leaves before seven. I make sure I’m armed with a bunch of
“Yes, sir’s,” and “No, sir’s,”
just in case I get in danger of being sucked into his hypnotic gaze
or something.

I’m just about
to stand from my desk when the door flies open and there stands
five-foot-three of snarling, spitting, bleached blonde attorney.

Lorraine Cummings.

She walks into my
office, carrying a file, and slams the door shut behind her so hard
that my undergraduate degree, which is hanging on my wall, falls,
causing the glass to crack down the middle.

I stare openmouthed
at it for a second, and then the anger starts to rise. I turn to her
to demand she pay to have it fixed, when she tears into me.

I’ve never
seen Lorraine so mad before. Her face is mottled an angry red, and
her eyes practically bug out of her head.

Holding the file up
in her hand so I can see it, she yells, “Do you know what this
is?”

“A client’s
file,” I say, my voice as calm as can be in the hopes that she
will lower hers. I’m not too worried about any of the staff
hearing us, because they all clear out right at 5:30 PM on the dot.

“Not just any
fucking client’s file,” she screeches, and I resist the
urge to put my fingers in my ears because damn… she sounds
like a cat in heat. “This is the file for my hearing today in
front of Judge Hudson that you were to prepare for me. And do you
know what? The fucking Order you were supposed to draft wasn’t
in there.”

She punctuates the
last words of her statement with so much anger that spittle flies out
of her mouth and hits me on my arm. Geez! What is it about people
spitting on me?

“Don’t
you have anything to fucking say for yourself?” When I just
stare at her blankly, because I know damn well the Order was there
when I handed it to her this morning, her rage reaches a crescendo
and she cocks her arm back, letting the file fly at me. I see it
hurling toward me almost as if in slow motion, turning end over end.
All the loose papers inside take flight into the air, and then it’s
just an empty folder flying toward my head. I duck quickly to the
left, and the folder splats harmlessly on the wall behind me.

It’s my
personal belief that Lorraine’s greatest rage comes not because
the Order was missing, but because she failed to peg me with the
file. The minute I ducked, her anger turned to molten lava, and she
lets out an almost inhuman screech.

“You’re
such a fucking screw up, McKayla!”

Okay, enough is
enough. Now I’m getting really pissed but before I can even
open my mouth, my office door flies open so hard, that now my law
degree falls off the wall and succumbs to the same fate as my
undergrad degree.

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