Page 43 of Final Verdict
“How bad is it?”
“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.”
“How fucking bad is it?” I repeat. “Rate it on a scale of one to ten.”
“Two hundred.”
“Anything violent?”
“Three of the thirty charges,” he says. “And they’re allegedly violent. There’s no such thing as a crime without a conviction, right?”
He throws out my line and doesn’t give me a chance to reel him in.
“The official arraignments take place Thursday,” he says, “but I’m not expecting you to show up for that. I just need you to take over from our basic legal team right after, if you’re interested in adding another near-impossible win to your record...”
“I’ll consider it,” I say, knowing that it’ll probably be a yes. “You’ll need to meet me at my firm so we can go over the terms.”
“I’ve already booked a flight,” he says it like it’s a done deal. “Thank you very much for your consideration, Mr. Tate.”
I don’t say “You’re welcome.”
I never do when it comes to clients like him.
Instead, I end the call and send Rachel a text.
Client R.L. is back. Assemble my top five researchers and clear out my Thursday.
Rachel
Right away.
Scarlett slowly sits up, swinging her legs off the side.
Still naked, she watches me pull on my briefs and pants. Picking up my shirt, I stare back at her as I slowly button it.
“Here...” Scarlett stands up and holds out my watch.
Without thinking, I press a hand against her left breast, gently rolling her nipple between my fingers.
A soft moan leaves her lips, and before I know it, I’m lifting her up and spreading her legs open on her mattress, devouring her pussy for breakfast.
I don’t muffle her screams this time as she grabs my hair; I relish the sound of her saying my name.
“Okay, Scarlett...” I wait until she’s stopped shaking. “We don’t need to talk or see each other again for at least a week.”
“What?” Her eyes widen. “Why?”
“Because I have to fucking work, and you’re a very tempting distraction.”
“But how is that?—”
“Shhh.” I press a finger against her lips. “I need one week away from you—this week in particular. I’m sure you have some things to catch up on, right?”
She looks at the calendar on her wall. “So, we can talk about things Friday?”
“Right at midnight, if you like,” I say, stepping back. “But not a second before then. Can you agree to that?”
“Yes.” She nods. “I can agree to that.”
