Bossy(15)

I nod at his words, acknowledging them. Others around the table nod as well. We’re like a bunch of bobble heads.

“She recently graduated with a Political Science degree and a 3.9 average. In the fall, she’s starting Law at Stanford. She’s obviously talented and she’s here to get a leg up. I expect she’ll work hard at it.”

With a stern glance in my direction that makes me sink into my chair like I’m already in trouble, he pauses meaningfully. Was that “leg up” comment about me and Declan? He can’t know, right? I half expect him to continue with, “Also, she’s fucked my son.”

Of course, he doesn’t.

Next to me, Declan scribbles something on a notepad that he grabbed off the table. While his dad addresses the rest of the room, he slides it over so I can read. I’ll totally help you get a leg up. Maybe even both.

I look away, making a point of ignoring him. He’d be insufferable if he knew that had been my first thought too. I focus on Garrett, trying not to imagine my legs anywhere near his son.

“Ms. Anderson will be assisting Declan on the Cooper Holdings case. It’ll be a challenging place for her to begin, and maybe she can help Declan keep his focus.” This time the stern look settles squarely on Declan, who meets it with a set jaw and an obstinate expression.

There’s something going on between them that I don’t know about, that’s obvious, but the moment passes and his gaze comes back to me. For the first time, I see him smile, but it’s thin-lipped and grim. “Welcome to Riordan & Flynn, Ms. Anderson. I trust you won’t squander this opportunity.”

Yike, he’s got the stern stepfather look down, and he’s not even my stepfather yet.

There are scattered welcomes from the others around the table, and then introductions are done. Garrett starts the meeting proper, asking short, probing questions about the status of various cases. The attendees hang on his every word, jumping to attention when his focus lands on them.

Much as I try to keep up, it’s impossible without knowing what their cases are about. It’s not long before the meeting is just a dull buzz while I try to look interested. I don’t think anyone even remembers I’m here.

Well, one person does.

A hand touches my thigh, making me jump. Glancing over at Declan, I furrow my brow and try to get his attention without being obvious. He’s looking straight ahead, pretending to keep up with the discussion, but his hand strokes me softly. I don’t know what to do. There isn’t much I can do without drawing attention to myself.

Sliding down towards my knees, his palm feels impossibly hot, even through my skirt. I try to move my leg, but his strong grip locks around my thigh, keeping me in place.

I sigh and stay put. I’m not going to jeopardize my first day here by disturbing my first meeting, but he’s going to get an earful afterwards.

His hand goes back to stroking, softly and quietly. It feels good, much as I hate to admit it, because I’m so freaking furious with him right now. This internship isn’t a joke.

Garrett and a sandy-haired attorney get into a discussion on a billing situation, but I’m mostly concerned about how Declan lightly tugs at my skirt. Luckily it’s a pencil skirt, so he can’t get up underneath easily, and I’m certainly not doing anything to encourage him. What the hell is he thinking?

My skin tingles. My body doesn’t care, not about the meeting, or about him being a jerk. I’ve spent so many nights since that first one thinking about his touch. It was never supposed to be like this, but that doesn’t keep me from getting wet. I try to shift, but he pinches me. I let out a little gasp and slap at his fingers.

Garrett turns to me with raised eyebrows. “Are you alright, Ms. Anderson?”

“Yes,” I reply way too quickly. He has to know something’s up. “Just a twitch. I’m sorry.” Declan’s hand pats me, as if to say good girl.

I’m so going to get him for this.

Surprisingly enough, Garrett and the others return to their discussion as if I’m not a horrible, red-faced liar. Letting my breath out slowly and quietly, I center myself. I’ll get through this, and then afterwards, I’m going to find an open window and throw Declan out of it.

His hand inches its way up my leg, but my skirt won’t budge unless I lift my ass off the chair, and no matter what he does, that’s not happening. No way. Still, his fingertips are tantalizingly close.

Okay, I just have to get through this. Iron will. Show no reaction.

He’ll give up eventually, and the meeting will end. I just have to save the highly inappropriate thoughts that are racing through my mind right now for when I get home. And not, you know, beg him to take me over the meeting table in front of everyone. Which would be completely wrong and inappropriate, not hot and amazing.