On His Terms(7)

Lawson stared out the window behind Rian and shook his head. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do,” Rian said without hesitation.

“I think the legal route that you’re taking is better than what you’ve done in the past, but I have a feeling this might backfire regardless.”

Yeah, it probably would, but if it meant he had Sorcha, even for one night, he’d take whatever fallout happened.

****

“But he didn’t say why he wanted you to come in?” her friend Cora asked, looking as curious as Sorcha felt.

She shrugged. “I told you exactly what he said. He was cryptic, and almost seemed pleased with himself for some reason.”

“So, are you going to show up?” Cora took a drink of her beer and set it back down. The little pub they were at wasn’t too far from the office building they both worked at. Cora had been the one to get her the interview with Rian Hartford, and even though Cora worked in the law office in the same building, and not for the enigmatic man, she had pulled some strings.

The music around them was loud, peppy, and the latest dance song. The pub was small, but a lot of the Irish community in this part of town frequented it because of the imported beer and food they had, especially the college aged population. Sorcha stared at Cora and shrugged. “Do I really have a choice? Before going into this job I said that if Mr. Hartford needed my assistance at any time, for any reason, I was there. I am basically his personal slave.” She growled out the last part.

“You really hate it there, don’t you? Makes me almost feel guilty for telling you about the job,” Cora said genuinely.

“Honey, hell no, you shouldn’t feel sorry. The job is great, and in fact I love it. I get to meet all these rich and famous people when they contact the office for retail property inquiries.” Sorcha shrugged and started picking at the edge of her beer label. “I owe you a lot for getting me the job.”

“Sorcha, you got the job. I just got you the interview. If Rian Hartford didn’t want you I can guarantee you wouldn’t be sitting in that ritzy office five days a week.”

Sorcha nodded and stared at the condensation on the bottle in front of her. “The man just drives me insane, Cora, like so damn crazy that I have never wanted to kick a man in the junk, or strip my clothes off and lie on my desk for him, more times than I have working for Rian Hartford.”

Cora laughed loudly. “Join the club, girl. That man rubs everyone the wrong way with his cocky, bastard-like attitude, and also has the women dropping their panties and grabbing their ankles. But if he was a pushover he wouldn’t be at the top, or have so many sexual conquests under his belt.”

“Well,” Sorcha straightened and looked at Cora. “I can see why he goes through secretaries so fast. They probably can’t stand his arrogant ass either.”

“That, or they were fucked so hard by him they couldn’t walk into work the next day.”

Sorcha started laughing.

Cora shook her head. “But seriously, you know the majority of them left because he fucked them and then refused to have more of a personal relationship with them.”

“The majority?” Sorcha lifted a brow and grinned.

“Okay, not the majority, but more than one and that is a lot.” Cora stood. “I’m getting a couple more beers. You want the same thing?”

“No, give me something hard, because I have a feeling whatever Rian Hartford wants from me tomorrow is going to make me wish I had gotten trashed.”





Chapter Three



Sorcha felt the drool on the side of her face before she even blinked her eyes open. Her pillow was damp beneath her cheek, and when she lifted her head and glanced at the clock, she had to blink a few times to have the numbers become clear. She might still be slightly drunk, and she also knew that her hangover would be hell rolled over and shat upon. At twenty-five one would think she could have known when to say stop to the alcohol, but after a certain number of shots she was feeling good, and certainly didn’t want the fun to stop.

Now she regretted tossing the drinks back like they were water, but then again Cora had been buying, and Sorcha’s day had been shitty.

She glanced at the clock again, rubbed her eyes to try and clear her blurry vision, and then did a double take. “Shit.” Eleven in the morning was late as hell, especially when she had to meet Mr. Hartford in an hour, and traffic would be a bitch. Sorcha rolled out of bed and immediately clutched her head in pain. She stumbled over her clothes scattered on the floor, and opted to forgo a shower to make sure she could get there on time, but screw that. She smelled the alcohol coming from her pores.