“Caplin Hawkins Law,” I say, answering on the second ring just as the door to Cap’s office shuts behind him.
The voice that greets me is breathy in a way that feels slightly uncomfortable. “Is Cap available?”
I look to the closed door and then to the to-do list on my desk that maps out his day and hedge a bet that he won’t be upset if I filter some of his calls. Important people usually open with their name. Or like Kline Brooks, their assistant does it for them. But, hey, if Breathy Betty turns out to be the CEO of something, I’ll apologize for my stupidity when I call her back. “I’m sorry, but he’s not. He’s in a meeting at the moment. Can I take a message and have him get back to you?”
She sighs. “I guess.”
I try my best to be polite despite her off-putting attitude. “All right, then. Go ahead with your message,” I say, putting my hands to the keyboard of my computer. “I’m ready.”
“Tell him Nadia called and is expecting a call back.”
“All righty—”
“And tell him I’m not wearing any panties.”
I blink twice, my fingers freezing on the keys as my brain short-circuits.
Did she just say she’s not wearing underwear?
“Um—”
“And my pussy’s wet and ready. Tell him that too.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Wet, ready, and tight. I’ve been training just for him.”
Okay, so I didn’t mishear her. She did, in fact, tell me she’s not wearing underwear. And now she’s giving me a graduate-level description of her freaking vagina!
My brain is actually bleeding. It has to be. I can feel it.
I mean…this is a place of business. A law office, for shit’s sake!
Does this kind of thing happen often?
If it does, this is probably how his usual assistant Liz actually got knocked up.
Immaculate conception, compliments of Nadia and a bevy of other sexually overzealous women, is actually possible here at Caplin Hawkins Law!
Stick a fork in me, I’m done. Done with being polite. Done with being nice. Done with Nadia’s breathy, orgasm voice.
“Before I give Mr. Hawkins any messages, I need to clarify a few things first,” I say, and my tongue is already locked and loaded with enough snark to power the entire fucking city. “Does your pussy need legal advice?”
“No,” she says, and her voice somehow manages to get breathier. “Just Cap’s cock. Be sure to tell him that too.”
It’s like she thinks osmosis is possible. If she comes on to me, then she can literally come on Cap. I don’t think so, sister.
“Is your pussy currently in the middle of a lawsuit?”
“No.”
“Does it need some kind of corporate contract because it is taking over another pussy’s assets?”
“Uh…no.”
“Has your pussy ever suffered from mesothelioma and is trying to join a class action lawsuit to gain compensation?”
“What does that even mean?” she asks, and thankfully, all the moan and seduction has left her voice.
Truthfully, I don’t even know what mesothelioma is; I’ve just seen one too many of those commercials scroll across the screen at three a.m. But I do know that I’m not giving Cap this fucking message.
“Nadia, it means I’m not going to give him the message. This is a law office. A place of business that only handles things related to the law. So, if you want to tell him your pussy’s wet or tight or any-other-freaking-thing involving your vagina or its appeal, you’re going to have to tell him yourself.”
I hang up the phone on a huff, and not even a second passes before a distinct throat clears behind me. I close my eyes tight. There’s only one person who could be coming from that direction.
“Oh God,” I groan before turning around and lifting my gaze to find Cap’s absolutely shimmering eyes staring back at me. They look like burned brown sugar.
And I wanted the rest of this day to go smoothly…
“You know, I came back out because I forgot to mention that I need you to fax the Gordon contract, but I’m pretty sure I just stumbled into something way better.”
I roll my eyes. “You stumbled on me telling off one of your female suitors after she assaulted my ears.”
“I heard.” His smirk is one-hundred-percent amused. “And I gotta say, the mesothelioma bit was really fucking good.”
I sigh and shake my head. “Do you really give out your office number to these women?”
“I don’t give it out. They just find it.” He laughs it off and shrugs like it’s no big deal that women are practically giving GPS coordinates of their beavers