why?”
“You seem distracted. Not your usual bouncy self.”
“I’m good. A few things on my mind, that’s all.”
Mellie studied Bailey for a moment then shrugged. “Cool. I’m going to take my break as soon as things slow down.”
“Sure.”
“Wow, that guy down on the end is hot,” she said under her breath.
“Who?”
“Your customer. The one with the open-collar white shirt, no tie. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
Bailey’s heart thumped. “I try not to.”
“Girl, you must be angling for sainthood. Give me a minute with him.” She slid her eyes in his direction.
Bailey sputtered a laugh. “You need to stop.”
“And why would I do that?” she teased, emphasizing every word.
Bailey shook her head in amusement and went back to work.
* * *
Justin Lawson took a sip of his drink. His gaze kept drifting back to the woman who’d served him, subtly following her every move. “How long did they say we’d have to wait for a table?”
“At least a half hour. Didn’t think we needed a reservation.”
Justin glanced around. The lounge was pretty full with more patrons waiting to be seated. This was the first time he’d been to the Mercury Lounge. He’d heard good things about it, but he wanted to check it out before he brought Jasmine here.
“How is that case coming that you were working on?”
Carl sucked up a laugh. “It’s a mess.” He tossed back the rest of his beer straight from the bottle. “The usual corporate back room dirty deals, everyone trying to outmaneuver the other.” He shook his head.
Justin, like Carl, was an attorney. Both of them worked for one of the biggest law firms in Louisiana, and they both were working hard on the side to launch Justin’s nonprofit—The Justice Project—something that his father, Senator Branford Lawson, wasn’t pleased about.
What is it about my sons, Branford had boomed at the last family gathering. I build a legacy for them, pave the way for them and they go off and do what the hell they want anyway. If their father had his way, both he and his older brother, Rafe, would be embroiled in the political quagmire of Washington, DC. Rafe preferred the life of a jazz musician and womanizer. Justin always believed it was just Rafe’s way to piss their father off. But at least Justin, to appease his father, had agreed to take the position at the law firm Lake, Martin and Dubois, which is where he’d met Jasmine Dubois.
“Are you finished with the depositions?” Justin asked. He was almost done with his drink. He peered down the length of the bar to get Bailey’s attention.
“Should be completed by the end of the next week. I tell you, man, it’s been a nightmare.”
“Once we get The Justice Project off the ground, we can finally start doing the kind of work that we want to do—that needs to be done.”
“Not soon enough for me,” Carl said.
“Refills, gentlemen?” Bailey looked from one to the other, refusing to settle on Justin’s face.
“Another Corona for me.”
“And you?”
Justin studied the lines of her face, the way the tips of her eyes lifted ever so slightly, the soft rise of her breasts beneath the stiff black shirt, and the warm caramel of her skin. “I’ll take another.” He lifted his glass. The path of his gaze led to hers.
That spark popped between them again. Bailey sucked in a breath when Justin ran his finger around the rim of his glass.
“Coming right up.” She strode down the bar to retrieve the Corona from the icebox and filled a clean glass with bourbon.
“If you two get any hotter, you’ll set the joint on fire,” Carl teased.
Justin rolled his head toward Carl. “What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about. You haven’t stopped checking her out since you sat down.”
“A man can look, can’t he?” He reached for a handful of cocktail peanuts.
“Yeah, but Jasmine’s doing her best to claim you.”
Justin heaved a sigh. “Yeah, Jasmine,” he murmured.
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Let’s just say she would like us to be in a relationship, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He slowly shook his head.
“Hmm, makes it kind of tough with her being the boss’s daughter.”
“Yeah...exactly.”
“Here you go, gentlemen.” She placed the beer and glass in front of Carl and the bourbon in front of Justin. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“A table,” Carl groused.
Bailey smiled, and Justin’s insides shifted. He lifted his glass and let his gaze drop into the depth of his drink instead of the dark pools that were her eyes.
“We’re always busy on Friday nights. I take it this is your first time here.” She wiped down the space in front of them and refilled the snack bowl.
“It is,” Justin said.
“I wouldn’t want this to be your last time.” She was talking to them both, but her eyes were fixed on Justin. “Let me see what I can do about getting you a table.”
“We’d appreciate that...” Justin waited for her to fill the blank.
“Bailey.”
“Justin.”
“I’ll see what I can do, Justin.”
“Oh, and I’m Carl,” he said, feigning offense at being ignored.
Bailey laughed lightly. “Carl.”
Bailey and Justin shared a look of amusement before she walked off.
Carl’s cell phone chirped. He pulled it out of his pocket, checked the face of the phone and frowned. “Matthew...” He listened, and his expression grew tighter. “Okay. Give me a half hour. Thanks.” He disconnected the call and turned to Justin.
“What’s up?”
“I have to go back to the office. Matthew got a call from Judge Graham’s clerk. He wants us in chambers
