ATTENTION: THE AUTHOR IS POSTING THE LAST CHAPTER ON MAY 5. TO THANK ALL THOSE WHO HAVE READ HER STORY, SHE IS ALLOWING THE ENTIRE STORY TO BE PUBLISHED UNTIL MAY 22.
THIS BOOK OR ANY PORTION THEREOF MAY NOT BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION. THE SCANNING, UPLOADING, AND DISTRIBUTION OF THIS BOOK VIA THE INTERNET OR VIA ANY OTHER MEANS WITHOUT THE PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER IS ILLEGAL AND PUNISHABLE BY LAW.
ROBIN ARRIVED EARLY for work to stock the common room with pastries, coffee, and supplies from his list the night before. They'd given him the week after Regina to jump in and take on responsibilities of the office. He put a box on the counter, lifted the lid, and called it done.
He put a pot of coffee on, filled the cabinet and the fridge, and walked down the hall to the conference room. Morning meeting with Gold, Regina had texted him. A new thing she'd insisted on to ensure she could get a hold of him when they didn't spend time in the office.
He'd rushed through breakfast this morning, showering forgetting to shave, and dressing. A headache was beginning to brew.
Now, he was walking in to see Gold and Regina already in the middle of a conversation, "Am I late?" He glanced at his watch to see he was six minutes early.
"Right on time," Gold said offering a chair.
Robin sat, watched Regina pull out a document, and set in in front of her. Gold leaned back and linked his fingers together on his chest. "I wanted to talk to you both for several reasons. First, I'd like to check in with you, Robin. First week. How's it going?"
An itch in his shoulder blades agitated him, but he kept his eyes on him, "I'm adjusting. Getting used to the new office, new staff, routine. I figure I've got a hold on the cases I've got."
He could feel and see Regina staring at him in his peripheral vision and chose to keep his eyes on Gold. Ignoring the itch suddenly spreading.
"Yes, Regina has kept me apprised of your week." He took the document from Regina and flipped the page. "You've taken initiative, managed to get around a few obstacles, and you have a client coming in tomorrow after canceling for two months, is that right?"
The itch caused him to straighten his shoulders, he finally spared Regina a glance and turned back to Gold. "Yes, sir." Something didn't feel quite right.
Gold flipped the page back in place and passed it to him. "Your evaluation," he said.
For a moment, Robin read over the scrawl he was now familiarized as Regina's. Notes, scores, and recommendations. His neck hardened, his jaw clenched, and he felt the heat rising in his chest. How the hell could she do this behind his back? As he read, he tried to calm himself. He agreed with her observations, didn't agree with her assumptions, and flipped to the recommendation page.
Rage was simmering under the surface, but he kept it bottled. Her notes read like a robot, impersonal, and even unattached.
Lockley's time management, initiative, and drive are apparent. Social interactions with colleagues and clients are plentiful edging toward personal. Case management is excellent, notes need more details. Further observation required for accurate comprehensive evaluation.
He stopped reading and threw the paper on the table.
"Problem?" Gold asked.
"I should ask you if you have a problem given that you're evaluating me without my knowledge or consent. I wasn't under the impression that this was a temporary position, nor was I aware that I had a spy," he turned his hot eyes on Regina.
She turned her head quickly to avoid his stare. Gold nodded, "I apologize. I meant to tell you that I asked Regina to fill out an evaluation. The offer wasn't contingent on anything, but we run this firm a certain way and I like to ensure our team work together well. So far, I'd say we need more time to figure it out."
"I don't need more time, I do my job, I work with colleagues, and I have no issues," he said evenly.
"Agreed, for now," he added. Before Robin could interrupt, Gold continued. "How is the Mixer planning going?"
Robin sat back and let Regina take the reins while he tried to gain his composure.
"Henrietta is confirmed for catering, I hired a DJ, and we've taken care of the design. Robin and I decided on the traditional fall holiday theme. We've worked out layout, budget, and hired a clean-up crew."
"Who did you hire for the DJ?" Gold asked.
Robin spoke up, "I have a connection with Tyler Nash. He's agreed to do the party at a low cost." Tyler Nash just happened to be the hottest commodity DJ in southern Texas with a waiting list as long as Texas itself.
"What a connection," Gold smiled. "How are you acquainted?"
Robin shifted in his chair, "I dated his sister a few years ago," he admitted. An embarrassing story that he hoped wouldn't be brought into this firm. Too many knew the story already, he hoped to keep it out of his new job.
Regina cleared her throat, "You dated Greta Nash. Interesting," she said.
Robin felt his cheeks burn, his throat close, and swallowed the lump. "It was a long time ago, and I'd rather not discuss it. We've got a DJ," he said between his teeth.
Gold glanced between them but ushered forward, "Great. Peter Mueller has agreed to a meeting."
"What?" Regina's body lunged forward, and her hands clenched the edge of her chair. She was prepared to spring up and out of her chair, he noted. The eagerness was new to him given she looked subdued most of the time. In control, he mused.
"I got a call yesterday from his secretary, he heard you wanted to take his case. He's considering it," Gold tapped his fingers on the table. "He's also considering taking this criminal. So, you've got competition with Victoria Belfrey. You'll have to fight for it because you know she'll strike."
She sunk back in her chair, "Why criminal?" Robin watched the eagerness dissolve. Apprehension and a little nerve replaced it.
Gold pressed his lips together, "I can't divulge that, but I can tell you that he's got the option. If he's smart, he'll keep it civil."
"When is the meeting?" she asked. Robin watched her eyes narrow, her fingers clench together.
"That's the thing, he hasn't made one. He agreed to come to the Mixer, and he's agreed to bring his team. It's up to you to wine and dine him and win him over. You've got skill, Regina. You're a damn good lawyer or you wouldn't be in this firm." Turning to look at Robin who had gone silent, he said, "You're going to help her."
Creasing his brow, he looked from him to her and back, "How?"
Gold glanced at Regina, "With this," he pulled out a blank evaluation sheet. It was different from the one she'd filled out on him. This was all about personality, communication, and social interaction. "It's only fair, you evaluate her as she's done with you."
"Okay." He looked over the document and tried to hide the smile spreading over his face. Though, based on the document, he'd have to spend more time with her to gauge half the questions.
"A week and you'll help her figure out how to socialize without being short. I love you, dear. But you really need help with your communication skills. Mueller loves to talk, he loves to go out, and you won't stand a chance if you don't open up."
"Being short is just another way of saying that I'm rude. Is that it?" She raised a brow and crossed her arms.
"Yes," Gold and Robin said at the same time. They exchanged smiles as they turned to look at the scowl on her face.
Heat raised in her face staining her cheeks pink. "Well…"
"Robin can help you, he's got the same openness Mueller has. The same charisma, I suppose. It'll be good for you," he added. "That's all I have. I'd like the projected budget and layout copies for the Mixer emailed to me as soon as possible. I want to be able to change things if I see fit."
"Sure," she said and stood. Regina walked out of the office as Robin turned to Gold.
"Was this evaluation real or a ploy?" he wondered.
Gold smiled wickedly, "All decisions come with intention." Robin frowned and turned toward the door. "Keep up the good work," he said as Robin left.
REGINA WALKED INTO HER OFFICE and threw her blazer on her chair, she raked her fingers through her hair and felt the fire taking over her body. Rude? I'm not rude, she argued to herself.
Her skin was hot, her cheeks flaming red, and she ached to punch something and feel it hurt. When Robin came in after her, she considered using her fists on his pretty-boy face.
He had coffee up to his mouth drinking from the mug like it was his next breath, he sat at his desk, lowered the cup, and closed his eyes.
"I am not rude," she huffed. She watched him open his eyes and smirk at her. It infuriated her that he seemed to be ready to use that smirk to his liking. Like it was a natural feature to his face he could easily produce.
"Yea, you are sometimes. But you haven't figured out when," he said pressing his fingers to his temples. "Half the damn time, you just say what's on your mind without thinking of how it comes across."
Pacing back and forth, she fumed, "Just because I don't gossip and ask about people's lives doesn't make me rude. I keep things short and blunt because it's professional and I want to do my job. I don't see an issue with that."
Her heels were echoing on the hardwood floor in a tempo that could only be described as a march. Her legs were moving in long strides, each step she felt a little more crazed and out of control.
"Sit down," he suggested. "Before you blow."
"What?"
Hefting out a long sigh, he got to his feet and walked around to where she stood. Taking her arm, he nudged her down into her chair. "That clicking is driving me nuts, take a damn breath."
"You don't maneuver me," she spat. "You don't tell me what to do."
Robin leaned against her desk, "Someone has to. You're hardheaded, you're stubborn, and you can't take help when it's being handed out. He's trying to help you."
"I don't need help," she argued. Yelling at him, she felt the anger start to break.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Yea you do. Damn it, you got some Aspirin? My damn head hurts too much to talk sense into you."
Regina stopped and took a long look at him, he was a little pale, his eyes a little blurry. Opening a drawer, she took out a bottle of Tylenol and handed it to him. "Maybe you should sit down."
She waited while he took two pills and put them in his mouth, he took the water she offered and drank the entire bottle. "Thanks," he said. Then, he tossed the bottle in the bin and watched her. It made her uncomfortable to be stared at like that. To see his eyes narrow, scan down her body like he had the right.
She opened her mouth to speak and he shook his head. It silenced the insult she had ready. Another annoyance, she admitted.
"You need to learn how to accept help," he said. "You're so against the idea, you can't hear the brilliance of it. You're short with people which makes me think you don't trust easily. I respect that. I don't trust well, either. If you know about Greta, you damn sure know why. But, your stubbornness to admit you aren't the best is what is going to ruin you."
"I don't have to be the best," she interrupted.
"No? I've known you a week and I can already call bullshit. It's how you function, Regina. You work your ass off. I've seen you put in long hours, you come in and I can see the dark circles under the makeup you try to hide them under. Then, you work like a dog in this office. I rarely see you take a break and when you do, hell if I know where you go. But you come back, and you look marginally better than you did before."
She touched her skin unconsciously at the comment, did her makeup not hide it well? She'd have to consider a new concealer, she mused. "I take my work very seriously."
"I can tell," he said. "You need to learn how to relax a little too. How do you not burn yourself out? Watching you work stresses me out. My damn head hurts from trying to keep up," he admitted. "I'm not admitting that outside of this moment, so don't get used to it."
Regina sighed, "I do burn out, I just…" She didn't want to admit where she went and what she did to relax. It was embarrassing and so outside of character for most to understand. "I take time outside of the office, for me."
"Doing what?"
"Things," she said avoiding his gaze.
"Maybe one day you'll tell me what puts that goofy smile on your face. The one you hide when you see me looking at you."
"What goofy smile?" She crossed her arms and felt her stomach knot.
"I see more than you think I do," he said. "More than you'd be comfortable with."
Regina tried to fight when he took her hand and yanked her to her feet, wrapped his arms around her, "Stop it." She tried to push back, but he held her arms behind her back.
"Relax," he said. When she stopped fighting, he asked, "Truce?"
"What?" she frowned. "We're not fighting, there's no need for a truce. Let me go," she struggled. His hands only tightened.
"You drive me crazy, you know that? I don't think I've met a woman who could drive me crazy like this."
"I'm not doing anything," she said. Her stomach was fluttering, her heart galloping, her body heating. His body was pressed against hers, his hands tight on her arms, his face close.
"The hell you are. Those eyes for starters," he began. Regina felt helpless to look into his eyes and feel him seeing through her. "They're hot one minute, molten the next, and just when you let your guard down a minute, there's a vulnerability that could bring a man to his knees."
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she tried to pull her arms free without success.
"Then there's your scent. So subtle you can't smell it unless you get close. Very close," he eased closer and buried his nose in her hair. "Mmm…" he hummed.
Regina's body was near vibrating, her head felt light and dreamy, her legs would give out any second if she wasn't careful.
He edged away to look into her eyes, "There's that zing, again." His eyes locked on her lips, "My favorite thing about you, so far, is how you taste." He leaned in and hovered a hair away from her lips. "Sharp and hot, a little sweet too," he whispered.
What was he doing to her? She felt like she was in a trance unable to move away and scared it would. Caught between control and desire. Her eyes closed involuntarily, she felt her body being guided but didn't know where. Her feet seemed to follow where he led. Her back rested on something solid and his body molded to hers just before his mouth covered hers.
ROBIN RELEASED HER ARMS and lifted her chin with his fingers to change the angle of the kiss. His fingers tangled in her hair as he sunk in and tasted her. For a long time, he sank and sank, and lingered until he was lost. Her hands rested on his chest a moment, and simply slid up and around his neck and into his hair.
She was warm, willing, and he couldn't get enough. His hands lingered, molded, pressed, and trailed along her body. As they glided over her skin, he felt her body loosen limb by limb. When she was relaxed, he released her mouth to trail his lips down the stem of her throat. He breathed in fully, intoxicated by her scent, and smiled when she trembled.
Her breath came out in uneven patterns, hitched, and smoothly slowed as his mouth found hers again. Soft and easy, he told himself. He wanted to plunder, take, and be taken, but he wasn't going to jump her in the office. Despite what his body was telling him, he had more sense, more patience, more control.
Aside from all that, he knew he caught her off guard and the second he wasn't seeped in her, she'd turn away. So, he took a little more and deepened the kiss just a hair to feel that control slipping. When her hands fisted the back of his shirt, he held on to that control as tightly as he could.
When his hands trailed up from her hips, slowly along her back, and up to cradle her face, he slowed the kiss. Softened it and pulled back with such care that she leaned forward to stay connected. Hell, if he didn't applaud himself for not diving back in. Instead, he pulled back until their lips separated and he rested his brow to hers.
Slowly, he gained his breath and managed to clear his brain of the fog. When he had his breath and his control, he leaned back to meet her eyes. They were clear, embarrassed, and a little angry. Her cheeks a soft pink, her lips swollen, and her eyes held that vulnerability that could grab him by the throat.
Swallowing, he stepped away and she took that moment and sprung up and walked back behind her desk, sat, and watched the wall she kept around her build back up in seconds. Remarkable, he mused. To watch a woman like her change so quickly. From vulnerable and soft, to hard and cold the next.
Slowly, he sat at his own desk. He rested his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. The headache he'd carted around all morning vanished, his mood a little elevated. "It'll take time, but I can help you, Regina. I can help you land the Mueller case and cases like it."
She met his gaze and held. "How?"
"First, you have to learn how to be vulnerable, how to relate to people, and how to talk to them like you give a damn. You care, I can tell by the way you work yourself to death. How you get mad when something doesn't pan out. How you get this look in your eyes when you know a client is hurting. Watching you this week, it wasn't hard to pick up on it."
She was frowning at him again. "I'm not sure I feel comfortable knowing how well you see me."
"Get used to it," he suggested. "I'm not going anywhere and now that I've tasted you, I want you."
"I…"
"You'll have to get used to the idea. Right now, my mood is lifted and I'm ready to get to work. We're meeting Swan tomorrow and I could use help strategizing. You in?"
Her eyes darted down to her desk, met his, she kept that permanent frown on her face. Good, he thought. He confused the hell out of her and didn't give her what she expected. Well, he wasn't going to.
"Alright," she said.
Happy with himself and the way he'd affected her, he pulled out the file, pulled his chair next to hers, leaned over and touched his lips to hers as confusion filled her, "Let's get started."