could talk.”
She looked over at her assistant. “How much time do I have?”
“Mr. Ulrich just arrived,” Will said.
Ford peered down at her. “Guess I’d better talk fast.”
“Quite fast,” she emphasized.
Her office was large and airy, with a bold glass-and-steel desk and a view of the city and the river. He took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, wanting to get one preliminary matter out of the way. “Nicole mentioned that she dropped by your office yesterday to sign a retainer agreement. She said you agreed to take on the case pro bono. I thought this was going to be a reduced-fee arrangement.”
“Isn’t a no-fee arrangement even better?”
For some, maybe. But having grown up as one of a handful of working-class kids in a very affluent suburb, there was some pride at stake here. “I can help Nicole with the legal bills. You don’t have to take this on as a charity case.”
Her expression softened a bit. “If it makes you feel better, I benefit from this, too. My firm has made a commitment to take on a certain number of pro bono cases each year. And your sister’s case seems like a worthy cause to me.”
When she said it like that, Ford almost believed that was all this was—a high-priced lawyer needing to do a little charity work for PR reasons. But his instincts said that there was more than met the eye when it came to the woman sitting across from him.
Still, he tabled that issue for now, since he was up against the clock here. “So, I struck out with phase one in my search for Peter Sutter.”
She leaned back in her chair. “And phase one was . . . ?”
“Social media searches. I’d thought maybe I’d find the guy on Facebook or Twitter, but no such luck. Which brings me to phase two of my search . . . but phase two is more complicated and will take me longer to explain. And you have a Mr. Ulrich waiting.”
“I do. But I think my Monday schedule is a little better.” She turned toward her computer, as if about to check her calendar.
“Monday?” He laughed at the ridiculousness of that. “You live ten feet from me, Victoria. I’m not making an appointment to see you next week when we can easily talk this weekend.”
“Who said I’m even around this weekend?”
“Well, are you?” When she didn’t immediately respond, he smiled, knowing he had her. “Remember, the hair dryer doesn’t lie.”
“I suppose I could stop by your place tonight, after work.” She paused, her lips curving up at the corners. “That is, if I can squeeze my way in between the cavalcade.”
“Couldn’t resist getting that in one more time, could you?” He stood up. “You know, you are going to be so disappointed when I turn out not to fit into whatever ‘womanizing player’ box you’ve put me in.”
“I haven’t put you in any box.” When he gave her a look, she cheekily made a small square with her fingers. “Okay. Maybe a little one.”
* * *
SITTING AT HER desk, Victoria leaned to the side and watched as Ford strode down the hallway to the exit.
Of course he would show up, unannounced, at her office. The man clearly had no sense of boundaries. Not to mention, he was entirely too confident with his little I’m-not-making-an-appointment-to-see-you edict. And also just generally irritating.
Great ass, though.
Broad shoulders, too. Lean hips. A bit of a swagger in his step that made a woman think—
“So? Did I hear you’re meeting him tonight?”
Startled by the voice, Victoria jumped and quickly righted herself in her desk chair. She looked at Will, who grinned knowingly from the doorway.
“It’s not like that,” she said, cutting him off at the pass.
“Hmm, isn’t somebody quick with the denial. I was simply wondering if I should block off an hour for your meeting tonight. Or do you need more time to conduct your business with the ruggedly Adonic man who sleeps ten feet from you?”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “Why does everyone feel the need to keep pointing that out? I’m well aware of where the man sleeps.”
“I bet you are.” Will’s tone was sly as he left her office.
Clearly, she needed to start being more Badass Boss–like in their relationship, if she was actually paying to be mocked like this. “And I don’t think ‘Adonic’ is actually a word,” she called out, determined to at least get the last word in.
Five seconds later,