Pretty Playboy (Cocky Suits Chicago #8) - Alex Wolf
Women amuse me.
Her stare slams into me as I stroll into the meeting five minutes late. It’s not my fault, but you wouldn’t know it by the look on our potential client’s face. Fuck, she’s gorgeous too, even with that evil glare.
It’s like lasers shoot out of her retinas and hammer into my chest.
Can’t wait to meet her.
I really mean that. The conflict is already off the charts. She’s like a little fireball waiting to explode.
Let’s back up fifteen minutes.
I’m called in to meet with a union representative who may want to retain the firm to help with litigation for a client. Meadow and Paisley asked me to sit in on the meeting.
That’s it. That’s the whole story so far.
“Sorry.” I sit down, strangely feeling like a kid who’s tardy on the first day of school, even though I’ve done nothing wrong.
This woman’s eyes meet mine and slightly roll up. There’s a light, irritated sigh, then she goes back to her conversation with Meadow and Pais. I adjust in my seat and lean forward, instinctively trying not to draw any more of her ire, but secretly—I think I want more.
I know I do.
There’s something about her.
She begins to speak, and I just can’t help myself.
“Penn Hargrove.” I hold out a hand, cutting her off.
Take it, lady. I want to feel the anger in your palm.
This time, there’s an unmistakable sigh. It’s amplified to get the point across.
“Campbell Page.” Her tone is nothing but pure contempt.
Jesus, this chick is high strung. And I must admit, for her petite size, she gives it her all to crush my hand. It’s a bit hilarious. She can barely fit her fingers around mine, but she gives it the ol’ college try. Oh yes, she definitely tries her damndest.
What the fuck is her problem?
It’s so over-the-top I can’t help but find it humorous.
I glance over to Meadow and Paisley, who both seem to be somewhat enjoying themselves. I’m starting to wonder if there’s an inside joke here. Did they set me up for this shit? Why is Meadow even here? She must have made the client introduction.
Meadow runs a hedge fund with her fiancé, Wells Covington, but she handles the impact fund within the company. The impact investments are all geared toward positive social and environmental change. I work with them a lot since I handle all the non-profit work at The Hunter Group in Chicago, sending them investment opportunities. Sometimes I even manage a few things for the Dallas firm too.
Paisley handles mostly financial, tax, and corporate matters with Dexter Collins.
If this is a union employee issue, I’m not surprised they called me into this meeting. It makes just enough sense, if this thing is a ruse.
Campbell starts to speak, and I still can’t help myself. I cut her off again.
“So, what do we got?” I lean back in my chair, settling into my environment a little more.
Meadow and Paisley’s eyes grow wide, then they both grin, as if this is the exact thing they brought me in here to do, like I’m their morning’s entertainment.
I don’t mind being the court jester. This lady will need my help far more than I’ll need hers, so fuck it. Why not?
“What do we got?” Campbell makes a point to enunciate each syllable, as if she has contempt for my poor grammar.
I start to say something else, and she takes the opportunity to return the favor, this time cutting me off.
“What we got here, is an employee, Jennifer Steele. Single mom, widow. Her child has cancer, and that takes a lot of her time. On top of that, she’s routinely harassed by management at work, skirting legal lines, and they do it because they fucking can. But what they don’t know, is some of my members have brought her problems to my attention.”
“Is she a warehouse worker or clerical?” I feel like it’s a decent question, and important, but Campbell definitely hates being interrupted. I think I’ll keep doing it.
She grits her teeth and, as if she can read into what my question insinuates, skips right ahead to address it. “It’s a gray area. I don’t believe she is eligible to join the union’s bargaining unit, but I would like to help her anyway.”
“That’s nice.” I smile.
Campbell looks like she wants to tear my head off, and at this point, I’m wondering if I’m maybe a little out of line. Not socially, but out of line in that she may take her client to another law firm. I