Evidence of Desire. Pamela Yaye

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Evidence of Desire - Pamela Yaye Mills & Boon Kimani

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catch with their dogs.

      On Thursday afternoons, Harper liked to go outside to the square. For an hour, he’d sit back and relax. He wouldn’t think about work and the long list of things he had to accomplish before quitting time, either. He’d eat his lunch, then do the New York Times crossword puzzle. But not today. Harper had a deposition to review, phone calls to make and more paper crowding his desk than a UPS office.

      Harper tossed a handful of cashews into his mouth. Five more minutes, and then I’ll get back to work, he told himself, soaking up the sunshine pouring through the window in front of his L-shaped executive desk. Most of the offices at Hamilton, Hamilton and Clark were furnished traditionally, with mahogany furniture and Oriental rugs, but Harper had bucked the trend and hired an interior decorator to create his dream space. Leather couches sat along one wall, shelves displaying his certificates and awards were above the tropical-fish aquarium, and his favorite electronic gadgets were just an arm’s length away on the decorative glass stand.

      Crossing his legs at his ankles, he rested back comfortably in his seat. He spotted a group of teenagers reading magazines under one of the leafy maple trees dotting the park, and immediately thought of Azure. The writer had been on his mind all day. Actually, ever since the photo shoot at his uncle’s estate. He was looking forward to seeing her tonight, and as soon as he finished drafting the settlement letter, he was heading home. He needed to shower and change before their date, and he wanted to buy Azure flowers from his favorite gift shop. Not that he went there often. Harper hadn’t been back to Gifts & Things since…

      Scraping the thought and all images of his ex-girlfriend from his mind, he turned away from the window and picked up the manila file folder he’d abandoned ten minutes earlier.

      “I thought you’d left for the day.”

      Harper regarded his father, Frank, with a smile. His dad was fifty-eight years old and still going strong. He not only looked years younger, but he played the part, too. His dad was a jovial, well-dressed ball of energy who was always in a terrific mood. In court, he rarely sat down, and when he did it was only because his back was acting up. “I have a few more things to do before I head home,” Harper explained, gesturing to the document in his hands, “and since I’m in court tomorrow, I figured now was as good a time as any to get them done.”

      “I was surprised when I pulled into the parking lot this morning and saw your car. What time did you get in?”

      “Five-thirty. I would have been here earlier but decided to go to the gym first.”

      “Some people shouldn’t be allowed to drink coffee,” Frank joked, pointing at his son’s oversize Philadelphia Sixers-themed mug. “You’d be one of them!”

      Father and son chuckled.

      “What are you working on?” Frank asked, closing the door behind him.

      “Just reviewing the sworn testimony of the victims in the fraud case. The trial is fast approaching, and I want to be fully prepared.”

      “Good, good, son. That’s what I like to hear.” Frank picked up the golf club that Harper kept in his office for his executive putter set, pointed it at the cup and bent his knees. “I wish I had one of these in my office, but if I did I’d probably never get any work done!”

      Harper watched as his father practiced his swing. Over and over, he took shots at the hole. Harper didn’t know if his dad came by to see him or to play a round of golf, but he didn’t mind the interruption. He welcomed it. Maybe shooting the breeze with his dad would help him refocus, because he was so amped up about seeing Azure again he couldn’t concentrate.

      “Son, when are you heading home?”

      “I’m not sure, why?”

      “Preseason basketball kicks off tonight,” Frank said, glancing up from the golf set. “The Lakers are playing in Miami tonight, and there’s been so much trash talking between the two teams, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a brawl in the first quarter!”

      “I thought Mom banned you from watching basketball.”

      “The Lakers got swept in the second round of the playoffs! Swept!” he repeated, throwing a hand up in the air. “It’s not my fault I got so angry I bumped into the coffee table and knocked over that frilly candy dish. It’s been six months and I still haven’t got over it.”

      Harper chuckled.

      “Besides, what your mother doesn’t know can’t hurt her,” Frank said, shooting his son a wink. “She’s in New York on business, so I have the house all to myself this week.”

      A sly grin exploded onto his dad’s smooth, slim face, but Harper heard the loneliness in his voice and saw the flicker of sadness in his eyes. Harper considered canceling his date with Azure. He was anxious to pick up where they’d left off last night, but he didn’t want to leave his old man hanging.

      “Your brothers are coming by, and some of your cousins, too.”

      “Will Jake be there?”

      Frank shrugged. “I invited him, but I don’t know if he’ll show. He has a meeting tonight with Santiago Medina.”

      In his haste to speak, Harper tripped over his tongue. “The resort heir?”

      “The one and only. Apparently, Mr. Medina is looking for a new, American-based lawyer, and after speaking to Jake on the phone last week, he decided to fly in on his family’s private jet for a face-to-face meeting.”

      Harper’s heart sank to the bottom of his leather Kenneth Cole shoes. Jake had scored another big-name client? And not just anyone. One of the richest businessmen in all of Mexico. Harper was pissed, but he didn’t show it. He couldn’t let his dad, or anyone else, know that he was jealous. Harper loved Jake, and would never do him any harm, but he was tired of playing second string to his flashy, cocky cousin. “Why would Santiago Medina sign with Jake? He’s arrogant, obnoxious and—”

      “One hell of a closer,” Frank added, picking up the golf club and lining up his feet on the putter. “You’re an incredible attorney, son, the best in the firm as far as I’m concerned, but you need to toughen up. You lack that killer instinct that all great attorneys have, and without it, you can only go so far in this business. It doesn’t matter if you’re closing a deal, or trying to get a babe into bed, when you see an opening, you have to go in for the kill.”

      Harper wanted to plug his ears. He didn’t want to hear what was coming next. His dad—like most of the Hamilton men—loved women, and back in the day had had a reputation with the ladies. Always on the move, he laughed, joked and flirted with the opposite sex as if it was his favorite pastime. And Harper suspected it was.

      “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you could learn a thing or two from Jake.”

      “On what? How to seduce and bed my paralegal?”

      “No, on how to get more bang for your buck! Jake’s parlayed his engagement into a huge news story and is attracting wealthy clients left and right.”

      Harper’s shoulders slumped, caved in under the weight of his disappointment. Feelings of resentment and despair filled him. He couldn’t believe it. Now his father, the person who’d always been his biggest supporter, had jumped on the I-love-Jake bandwagon, too. And the president thinks he’s

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