The waiter refills Margaret抯 water, and I take the break in conversation to give Ben a quick glare, which says get your hand off my fucking knee.
His mouth twitches in response, and he gives my leg one final, infuriatingly firm squeeze before he releases me, as if to say Patience, Castrator. Let her tell this the way she wants.
My thigh feels cold in his hand抯 absence. And while Ben gently reminds Margaret where she was in her story, his voice betraying absolutely none of my impatience, I cross my legs, trying to somehow grind away the memory of his palm on my skin.
Soon she抯 offering us more detail, the things we didn抰 already know, and I抦 aggravated that Ben抯 been proven right as I begin to take copious notes.
揧ou抮e aware they抮e going to throw every word you抳e ever said in your face??Ben asks as lunch concludes and he抯 signed the check. I抦 glad he抯 leveling with her because it抯 an ugly process being deposed as a plaintiff and梚f it comes to it梘oing on the stand. 揈very misstep, every moment of anger or sick day is going to be broadcast. Are you ready for it??
Margaret turns to him. She抯 been admirably calm while discussing the case, which is a good thing梐 jury will label a distressed female as shrill or hysterical for the exact same behaviors they抎 term righteous indignation in a man. She swallows now, continuing to hold herself in check. 揑 was a model employee. I only took three sick days in ten years of work. If that抯 their strategy, I wish them luck.?
揟here isn抰 enough luck in the world to help them win this case,?he tells her. And for the first time today, she looks pleased.
I guess it抯 possible that there are worse things than sharing this case with him.
Not many, but some.
We get in the car, and I start making notes with a small smile on my face. I was absolutely right about Margaret, even if he won抰 admit it.
揌as no one ever told you,?Ben says, 搕hat it抯 unbecoming to gloat??
He抯 already tapping away on his phone. Probably arranging his post-lunch sex with a struggling actress he keeps in a high-rise.
揟his might come as a shock to you, Tate, but I don抰 give a shit if you or anyone else finds my behavior unbecoming.?
揃ased on your social life,敆He continues to type棑or lack thereof卬o, that does not come as a shock.?
I roll my eyes. As far as I can tell, Ben抯 social life only requires the female be pretty and have a pulse, and I抦 not even sure about the pulse part. 揌ow抯 that yoga Instagram girl you were seeing, by the way? Have you explained the difference between your and you抮e to her yet??
He puts the phone down and looks at me, arching a brow. 揑 didn抰 realize you were following my social life so carefully. You almost sound卝ealous.?
This is one of those moments. The kind where I know what I should do梚gnore him梑ut the devil is leaping in my chest, suggesting all the wrong things. We抮e nearly back to the office, thank God. Perhaps that will keep the damage to a minimum.
揟hat must be it,?I deadpan. 揑f I wanted my vaginal penetration with a side order of disease, you抎 definitely be the first person I抎 seek out.?
揤aginal penetration??he repeats. My nipples tighten, as if he just placed his hand inside my bra. 揑 doubt it would work anyway. Lot of cobwebs there. Too many to bust through, I imagine.?His mouth curves upward, as if he抯 still considering the possibility.
揥ell, your parts certainly wouldn抰 be up to the job. Or any job, if we抮e being honest.?
揧ou bring up my dick an awful lot.?His eyes fall to my mouth, and that traitorous devil inside me likes it. 揑 wonder if that means something.?
For a moment I抦 picturing him and it梩ogether, obviously梐nd I抦 so winded by the idea it takes a solid two seconds for my mean mouth to make a recovery.
揑 have always had a soft spot for the small and the weak,?I reply.
The car stops at the curb and he climbs out, but before I can exit, he ducks his head back inside, so our faces are level and far too close. Close enough to smell the soap on his skin, the starch in his shirt. 揋emma,?he says, eyes glittering dangerously, 揑 promise there抯 nothing small or weak about me.?He walks away, and it takes me a full second to recover from my shock. And another full second to catch my breath.
Gemma, I promise there抯 nothing small or weak about me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to drive the memory from my head, but I can still feel it exactly where I did梑etween my legs, fluttering like a hummingbird.
I can抰 believe we just had a conversation about his dick.
And I really can抰 believe I started it.
That night, driving home, I go left when I should go right. Ben, I happen to know, lives in Santa Monica, though I can抰 imagine why: he works just as much as I do, so it抯 not like he抯 ever hanging out at the beach. I wonder if he takes the route I抦 taking now. If so, he抯 an idiot. Even at nine o抍lock, there are an irritating number of stops and starts.