Christina’s retrospective. “Ah, here he is now, Christina. I’d like you to meet the man you’ll be working closely with, Bruce Lancaster.”
Christina automatically pushed her chair back and stood. The small crowd of people around him parted, letting him come into her field of view.
Her knees weakened and she gripped the edge of the mahogany table for support. “It’s you,” she said, unable to control her reaction as her stomach figuratively dropped to the soles of her Ferragamo shoes when Mr. Hunk, the firefighter who’d seen her at her worst, strode forward and stopped.
“You,” he said, failing to mask the shock crossing his face.
Reginald’s head turned as if he were watching a Ping-Pong match. He smiled uncertainly. “You two know each other?”
This was not the way to start her career return—first by being late and now by acting like a simpleton. “No,” Christina replied.
“Yes,” Bruce contradicted.
“I mean, we’ve met,” Christina said, quickly covering. Damn the man!
“We have,” Bruce said. He smiled widely, that charming Dennis Quaid grin of superiority, of one used to being master of his environment.
With the authority that only a member of a family could take, he patted Reginald once on the back, all while not letting his blue-eyed gaze lift from Christina’s. “Reginald, Christina’s an excellent choice for our firm. Just terrific. Angela’s behind me with all the paperwork, so how about I bring her up to speed? Christina—may I call you Christina? Or did your résumé say Chris? That’s the name I originally heard from my grandfather.”
Christina planted her feet and struggled for mental balance. He had bulldozed her over. A jury would love him. Mr. Hunk was good, very good. “I prefer Christina.”
He held out his hand, and she extended hers. He clasped it firmly, the amount of heat suddenly creating a most unwelcome shock.
“Christina, again let me welcome you to Lancaster and Morris. As I said, my paralegal, Angela, is carrying stacks of papers to the small conference room, which I’ve commandeered for our use for the entire length of the case.”
“Great,” Christina said. He released her hand, which allowed her equilibrium to normalize.
Reginald cleared his throat and took command of the room again. “Well, then, we’ll let you two get to work. After all, time is money. Welcome aboard, Christina. I’m going to leave you in Bruce’s excellent hands. He’s one of the best lawyers we’ve got, and he’ll show you all the ropes.”
“Thank you,” she replied. She had been thrown to the lions.
And then, one by one, all the partners filed out of the conference room, leaving Christina alone with Mr. Hunk.
Now all pleasantness was gone. Bruce Lancaster was the man whose partnership she’d taken.
And both of them knew it.
Chapter Three
“Shall we?” he asked without preamble, demonstrating exactly who controlled the situation. With a wide sweep of his right arm, he gestured toward the double doors.
“Of course,” Christina replied, her voice perfectly schooled into the tone her mother always irritatingly called “lawyerly neutral.”
Christina grabbed her briefcase and clutched it to her side. This man would not affect her, and whatever fight he wanted to pick with her, she would not have it here, in the grand conference room, where anyone walking by could overhear them.
She stepped by him, taking little satisfaction that his nose wrinkled as her signature floral scent reached his nostrils. She paused just outside the doors, willing herself to remain poised and nonchalant. She had no idea where the small conference room was located.
“Need directions?” he drawled behind her.
She arched an eyebrow, and smirked. “You mean you know them?”
“Touché. Quick on her feet, with a bite to match the bark. Please, though, ladies first. The space we’ve been allocated is on the right, about three doors down.”
Christina drew her shoulders up and strode down the hallway. Luckily, there weren’t any curious faces to pass, and within seconds she’d entered the twenty-by-twenty-foot room. An early twenty-something woman whom Christina assumed to be Angela stood up. Her stomach protruded.
“Hi,” Christina said. She held out her hand. “I’m Christina Jones. You must be Angela. Congratulations on expecting.”
“Thank you.”
“You’ll be working with me on the case?” Christina asked.
“Only for the duration of it,” Bruce told her smoothly. “I’m sure you’ll have your own paralegal at some point. Make sure Reginald hires you one.”
Making it very clear that although Christina may have taken his promotion, she wasn’t getting his office staff, as well.
Angela’s gaze darted between the two of them, as if she was trying to decide what the best course of action was. “I’ll be here until Christmas, and then I’m on maternity leave for at least three months,” she said. Her face broke into a wide smile. “She’s my first.”
“I have a little girl,” Christina said, trying to find some common ground. “Bella’s eight.”
“Well,” Bruce said with an obvious cough before Angela could answer, “that’s all very nice, but we have work to do.”
“I’ve got all your files stacked and your messages are right there. Do either of you need anything else?” Angela asked.
“No, thanks,” Bruce said. “Just close the door behind you.”
“Will do. Nice to meet you, Ms. Jones.”
After Angela left, Christina faced Bruce.
“What?” he asked.
“You know, I’m surprised you didn’t have her branded before she arrived. Tell you what, Bruce. Why don’t you get all your anger off your chest early. Your paralegal, your partnership. Both now mine. Perhaps you should admit you’re upset. If we clear the air, it might help us work together. After all, as you pointed out, we have a job to do.”
“Do you have a degree in psychology, too?” He didn’t wait for her to shake her head. “I didn’t think so.”
In a movement of control, Bruce sat down at the table. Christina remained standing. “Let’s get a few things straight. I’m a Lancaster. I’m the founder’s direct descendant. Roy Lancaster is my grandfather. Remember the Supreme Court case Wedlock v. Storm? He argued that one, and only one judge dissented. I descend from multiple generations of legal stock. I was top of my class and got the highest score on the bar that year. I could have worked anywhere.”
She jutted her chin. “Your point is?”
