“Well, then it’s settled then, Mr. Quinn. We’ll gladly take up the mantle for Millennium Gardens and turn its old Jackson-affiliated financials over to the authorities. As for the Luxe, everything is officially settled.” I swear I can hear her nod. “Welcome to the Fletcher Financial family.”
“It’s good to be part of it. Should we do something to officially seal the new relationship with the Fletchers? A celebratory dinner? An inappropriately awkward Christmas dinner where one relative shows up with a tattoo and a gynecological condition no one’s ever heard of?”
“I’d say sending a bottle of champagne here to Chicago would be sufficient, Mr. Quinn.”
“Make it a well-aged Scotch and you have a deal. And Emily, for the last time, you can call me Noah. You’re practically part of the family. From what Deacon and Kayla told us, my business wasn’t the only one you helped save.”
“Just doing my job,” I hear her sigh. “Helping to save The Alchemist all those months ago was just a bonus.”
“And you deserve another, after handling Barbara Fletcher.”
She snorts. “Barbara’s easy compared to the characters I know.”
“Why? Are they that rough in Chicago?”
She hesitates. “Rougher. I’m learning that lesson from one egotistical athlete neighbor the hard way.”
I smile. “Sounds like you need the scotch a helluva lot more than I do. I’ll send a bottle over immediately.” I swallow, feeling gratitude circle in my system like a drug. “And thanks, Emily. For taking our business on as a client with such short notice. For being the tough attorney we needed. For everything.”
Appreciation shines through the sing-songy tone of her voice. She exhales. “I’ll take that official thank-you from you the next time you’re in Chicago. Bring the scotch.”
I grin then, ending the call.
Reaching for my caffeine almost immediately, I let a strange sort of happiness soak into my soul, like the heat from the espresso, ecstatic to finally have a new lawyer and partner on board who’s as willing as I am to do what needs to be done.
Including making sure one former investment CEO and thief gets what’s coming to him.
I check my watch—my recovered father’s—finally appreciating its beauty behind the marble countertops. But I can feel my face twist as I note the time.
Fuck, only thirty minutes until the ceremony starts.
I’d proven to myself I could work well under pressure, finding a partner to invest and save Quinn Real Estate after all.
But there were certain pressures you had no choice in—the type a beautiful woman could put you under, for instance—and even the conversation with my new lawyer isn’t enough to put a dent in the two hours’ time I’ve been waiting for my very sultry, formerly soaked girlfriend to show her face.
Since she stepped from the shower, her dark hair soaking wet, her body tantalizingly touchable, I’ve spent the last two hours avoiding putting my hands on her, drinking coffee and biding my time as Sophia preps for her brother’s wedding in our apartment.
Unfortunately for me, however, my bedroom has been commandeered, commanded and confiscated by two little women who have switched shoes more times than Lachlan’s switched bedroom sheets at one of his infamous parties.
And I meander behind the bar for the fifth time, ready to pour another espresso to keep my Sophia-needing fingers busy when Nancy flounces from my bedroom, her ginger hair brushing the straps of a ruby, floor-length dress.
She crosses her arms, a self-proud smile on her face. “Almost done.”
“Really? Because I’ve heard of US Supreme Court justices whose lifetime tenure appointments were shorter.”
“Well, just wait a minute. Pour yourself another espresso and hold on tight, Grandpa. You’ll see that all of this time was worth the wait.”
“I officially feel like I’m in an airport TSA line, Nancy. If you’re ever out of job, seriously, you could work for the LaGuardia airport.” I set down the coffee, turning a tired eye on Sophia’s ex-boss. My words are slow. “But…Sophia is always worth the wait.”
“Damn. You said that like you meant it.”
“I did. I always do.”
Nance whistles, turning on her heel with a grin. “Then as a potential airport TSA agent, I’d like to leave you with a few rules when you see Sophia: Keep your hands and arms inside the designated area. No smoking. And for God’s sake, no fluids or liquids present past a certain point.”
I’d swear she were going to say more, but suddenly, her phone rings as she finishes the rules with a chuckle. Rummaging through her nearby purse, she curses when she whips her cell phone out, staring at the screen with venom, her cheeks as blushed as her hair. She sighs.
“It’s my brother. And I guess he forgot I’m going to a wedding today since he’s called me more times than a stalker ex.” She calls over her shoulder, as she heads towards the back, her last laugh still stuck in her throat.
I frown after her.
But the frown drops shortly thereafter as I hear footsteps on the other side of the apartment.
Less than a minute later, Sophia emerges, a lavender saffron draped over her slender, curvy frame. One side of her chocolate-colored curls pinned, she smiles from the doorframe, taking every single breath in my body away.
She is absolutely stunning. In every sense.
The bodice of the dress hugs her tiny waist, cinching at the small dips. A plunging v-cut neckline shows off her ample cleavage and as she walks, she reveals a simple slit, clear up to her thigh.
The long skirt of the purple ensemble sweeps all the way down to the floor and as she sashays closer, white polish peeking from her open-toed shoes, I can hear my own heartbeat in my ears, my breath quickening with every step she takes in my direction.
Beneath my tux, an erection that could double as a ruler rises and I reach for her, closing the distance between us in seconds. I grip her waist.
“Wow.” It’s the only word I can say.
Sophia’s pretty lips slide into a smile. “That’s it? After
