How could Georgia find anyone so considerate disturbing? Unlike Beauregard, who imposed on her as much as possible, Valentine had made her feel at ease. She was being ridiculous—imagining danger when there was none.
“We should have a toast.”
“To what?”
“To understanding one another?” He clinked his bottle against hers.
“How about to freedom instead? Let’s get these signed.” Jane opened her briefcase to retrieve the paperwork.
“So, I’m free and clear, huh?”
“Yes, the court has already dismissed your case. Your bail money will be returned to you, but my firm’s fees won’t be.”
While she hadn’t gotten the courtroom glory, at least she’d been paid for her time—it was a small consolation.
“Meeting you was worth any price.”
A long moment passed, and Jane didn’t know what to say. Had he been flirting?
Never taking his eyes off her, Valentine signed the documents and handed them back. “Now the case is officially behind both of us.”
“Yes.” Jane wondered how much longer she had to stay to be polite. She tucked the papers away and tried to think of some plausible excuse as to why she had to leave.
“I was hoping we could talk about personal matters.”
Jane tensed. “Like…?”
“Us.”
“I’m confused. There is no us.”
He chuckled. “Not yet, but I’d like there to be. Over these past few weeks I’ve gotten to know you better, and I want to take it even further. Don’t worry, though. I’m willing to take this slow and easy. For you, I’ll be a tolerant man.”
Maybe Georgia was right—coming out here was a bad idea. Clearly, she’d given him the wrong impression.
No more meetings outside the office, “personal touch” be damned. If she’d kept her professional barriers in place, this bizarre conversation wouldn’t be happening.
And to think, when she finished with this awkward meeting, she had another one with Byron Beauregard planned. Handling people and their delicate feelings was exhausting. She’d much rather deal with laws.
“Mr. Valentine, I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t—”
“Call me Oscar.”
“I’d prefer to use your surname, Mr. Valentine.” The tone was sharper than she’d intended, but she had to get her point across.
“I insist.”
“Fine, Oscar, I’m afraid a personal relationship is out of the question because I’m your lawyer.”
“Were my lawyer. You aren’t actively my attorney anymore.” He nodded to her briefcase. “Ergo, there’s no reason we can’t have a much more intimate relationship.”
“It isn’t illegal, but ethically speaking, it’s a gray area—one I have no wish to go into. What if the government takes further action against you? I wouldn’t want my ability to represent you to be compromised in any way.”
“I appreciate your moral fortitude.” Valentine didn’t touch her, but he placed a hand on the chair’s armrest, his fingertips a scant inch from her elbow, which made her anxious. “I think we’re a perfect match, and we shouldn’t let a little thing like an ethical dilemma stand in our way.”
Jane was too distracted by the “almost touch” to respond appropriately.
She clasped the infinity symbol necklace around her neck—three stainless steel figure eights suspended on a chain. People on the autistic spectrum engaged in repetitive physical movements or stimming, as it was better known. Jane always wore the necklace because it gave her something innocuous to stim when she was upset. It used to belong to her mother, and she considered it a touchstone. Touching the slick steel settled her nerves a bit, allowed her to focus on his words.
“I disagree.”
But he ignored her. “Most women are flighty. They only care about how they look, but not you. You’re demure, focused on your work, proper—the way a woman should be.”
She took exception to the casual way he’d maligned her gender, but let it go. It was difficult to focus on anything besides her anxiety.
“We’ll have to put a pin in this discussion for the moment.” He glanced at the fire. “Looks like our dinner’s done. Let’s eat, and I’ll try to talk you into a date afterward.”
Oh, yes, this was going to be a long, painful evening.
“Fine, but I’m going to say no.”
“No, Jane, you’re going to say ‘yes’ to me.” He met her eyes across the fire, ensnared her gaze with his own. She might be mistaken but the look wasn’t the least bit friendly.