Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“You’re staring at me,” I said.
His smile widened. “You’re beautiful. Does it bother you that I’m appreciating that?”
I held his gaze. “No. You’re not so bad yourself. Will it bother you if I stare?”
The gleam in his eyes sparkled a little brighter. “By all means, stare away.”
We spent the next few minutes just looking at each other. It was the oddest interaction I’d ever had with a man I’d just met.
“Tell me something about you, Layla Hutton. Other than your age, weight, or reason for near disbarment, of course.”
“I’m twenty-nine, weigh a hundred and eighteen pounds, and I found out a client was abusing his wife, so I broke confidentiality and reported it to the police.”
He smiled and rubbed his chin. “Sounds like you should have gotten a medal for that last part, not nearly suspended.”
“Yeah, well…that’s how I feel. But the disciplinary committee and the partners at the law firm where I work have a different way of thinking.”
I sighed. It actually felt good to meet someone and get all of that off my chest right away.
“You know what?” I said. “This is the way it should always be. You meet a man. He tells you he thinks you’re attractive. You tell him it’s mutual. Then you air your dirty laundry. If he still looks at you the same way, you continue. If not, you walk away. Life’s too short to waste time.”
“I agree. Tell me, how am I looking at you after you’ve aired your dirty laundry?”
I studied him. He arched a brow when I leaned in closer to get a good look at what he was thinking inside that handsome head of his. What I found gave me goosebumps. The eyes really are the windows to the soul.
I sat back in my chair. “You’re looking at me like you’d like to see me naked.”
Gray threw his head back in laughter. “Very good.”
I lifted my chin. “Your turn. Tell me your dirty laundry.”
His dark eyes shadowed and his expression turned serious. “I’m thirty-one, weigh two hundred and five the last time I checked, and…” He paused and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he looked directly into my eyes. “And I was sent to prison for insider trading that I didn’t commit.”
My smile wilted before the last part even registered in my brain. I was confused. “You’ve been to prison?”
“I’m the program coordinator, Layla. It’s my job. My inmate job.” Gray leaned closer and searched my eyes. “How are you looking at me now?”
Chapter 5
* * *
Layla
I’d been trying to cut back to one cup of coffee, but this morning a double dose was definitely necessary. I’d tossed and turned all night, not able to switch off the rambling thoughts in my head long enough to relax and drift off. Thank goodness for concealer.
I stared out the bedroom window of my third-floor apartment, sipping my coffee. I had a half hour before the car would pick me up for the airport, and all I needed to do was get dressed, which left me yet more time to think.
A black town car slowed, then pulled up at the curb of my building. I glanced over at the clock next to my bed to see if I’d lost track of the time. Six thirty. The car service had arrived really early. Of course, I could’ve made the driver wait until seven, the time I’d scheduled, but that wasn’t my style. I chugged the remainder of my coffee and headed to the closet to get the dress I’d picked out to wear today, but I stopped when my buzzer buzzed. Drivers normally just idled until I came outside, rather than parking and letting me know they were here.
I hit the intercom. “Hello?”
“Morning, beautiful.”
I froze. Gray’s voice was deep and distinct. It couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else’s.
“What are you doing here?”
“We’re here to pick you up to go to the airport.”
“We?”
“Me and my driver.”
“I have my own car coming. I’ll meet you at the airport.”
“I canceled your car.”
“You what?”
“We need time to go over some things before the meeting. Besides, there’s no point in taking two cars to go to the same place. Your secretary gave me your itinerary, so I called your service and told them the car was no longer needed.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I’m here instead of your car, aren’t I?”
I looked up and counted to ten. Gray was trying to do more than share a car to the airport. He wanted to throw me off my game. I did it to opponents occasionally to make them feel unbalanced. I’d randomly change up the topic of my questioning mid-stream, scramble my witness order—anything that might make them feel unsettled allowed a bit of vulnerability to creep in.
I had no intention of becoming a pawn in whatever games Gray thought he could play with me.