Loyal Lawyer by Lauren Runow

Chapter Four

As I enter the high-rise where the law offices of Blake, Fields, and Moore are located, I get this overwhelming sensation of wealth and power. In a city that is mostly historic buildings, the tiered skyscraper that’s distinctly hued in red granite stands out like a modern marvel.

I step inside and immediately look up and around. Large glass windows let the rays of the setting sun into the lobby of sandstone porcelain and gold accents. There’s a glass elevator that overlooks the vast lobby.

I’m staring in awe of the mosaic design on the far wall when a woman behind the front desk asks, “Who are you delivering to?”

Walking up to the desk, I smile. “I’m here to see Sebastian Blake.”

“You can leave the food here.” She nods to the bag of Chinese food in my hand that I picked up on the spur of the moment.

I glance down at my clothes. I wore jeans with a silk top and blazer. The outfit is moderately casual, but I didn’t think I looked like a messenger. Between the impressiveness of the building and this woman’s assumption, I’m feeling way out of my league.

“I have an appointment with him. I’m Amy Morgana.”

Her eyes widen as she flips her hands up to the keyboard and starts typing. Then, she picks up the phone. “My apologies, Ms. Morgana. I saw the bag and thought you were the delivery driver. One moment. I’ll ring Miles.”

“I’m here to see Sebastian,” I correct.

“Miles is his assistant,” she answers before speaking into the phone after someone appears to have picked up the other end. As she hangs up, she says, “He’ll be right down.”

I smile to myself at how different Sebastian’s office and mine are. Where he has a rotunda, I have a back alley and a sweaty gym. There are security guards here while I have a Ring doorbell. Sebastian’s assistant comes down to escort guests. I’m lucky if Shawn, who is the closest thing I have to an assistant, answers the back door when Charity knocks.

“You must be Amy.” A gentleman, who I assume is Miles, walks up to me. He has on khakis, a white button-down, and black-framed glasses. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll bring you up to Mr. Blake.”

I adjust the tote bag on my shoulder and grip the plastic takeout handles with both hands in front of me as I follow him to the glass elevator.

We step in, and he hits the third floor before standing to the side and waiting patiently. I fidget with the bag, hating the awkwardness of being enclosed with a stranger in an elevator.

“You’re Sebastian’s assistant,” I muse.

He nods in a professional manner. “I’ve worked for Mr. Blake for five years.”

Glancing at my watch, I take in the time. “You must put in some late hours.”

“When there’s a big case, Mr. Blake has been known to pull all-nighters. The man is incredibly dedicated, and I’ve learned so much from him. He’s one of the best attorneys in Philadelphia,” Miles boasts with a raised chin.

I smash my lips together and giggle. “It’s okay, dude. I’m not a personal friend or anything. I’m not even a paying client. You don’t have to show off for your boss for me.”

Miles swivels his head toward me and stares like I have three eyes. “No, I’m serious. The man is the nicest and most generous guy I’ve ever met.”

My brows furrow. Not because I’m disappointed in that news. I’m actually surprised. Everyone has something negative to say about their boss. Not that I necessarily expected this man to word-vomit about his boss to me, but he didn’t have to go above and beyond to say nice things. His response was natural.

The glass walls of the elevator take us up, and the doors open to a waiting room with the law firm’s name emblazoned on the wall. All of the awards the firm has won line the back wall like they’re gold albums sitting in a record label’s office.

“Give me a second. I’ll let him know you’re here.” Miles picks up a phone at the front desk while I take the opportunity to look at the photos on an adjacent wall.

Sebastian is in many of them, all with various charities around the city. Each photo is labeled with the organization’s name and the amount the firm has donated to them.

Miles hangs up the phone and comes around the desk. “He said I can bring you back.”

I follow him down a long walkway that overlooks the main lobby of the building. It’s funny how it feels so different from this angle. Downstairs, this space felt out of reach, like only the elite belonged up here. And now that I’m here, it still feels as elegant and opulent, but I don’t feel like such an outsider.

“He’s meeting you in conference room number two.” Miles points to a set of double doors and then opens them to escort me inside.

“Thank you,” I say, and he nods with a smile before walking away.

I enter the room and see Sebastian standing by the long mahogany conference table. He’s in suit pants and a button-down that’s rolled up to his elbows.

His face ignites in a huge grin as he splays his hands out to his sides. “You’re going to love me,” he says.

I stop in my tracks, his enthusiasm catching me off guard, as is the way his impressive physique is on display under the thin white shirt. Sinewy muscle makes him look larger than his over six-foot frame.

“I do.” I pause and then correct myself. “I will.” I try not to smack myself in my head for sounding so dumb. “I mean, I am?”

“Yes. Here, come in.” He motions for me to join him where he has a few different papers laid out on the table.

I place my bags on the table, dying to know why I’m going to love him.

“Do I smell Chinese?” he asks, pointing to the takeout bag.

“Oh. I thought you’d be hungry since it is practically dinnertime. I wanted to thank you for helping me with dinner. I figured you can’t go wrong with General Tso’s chicken, lemon chicken, and chow mein. I hope that’s okay.”

His face morphs from confusion to surprise to wonderment. “Wow, yes. What a great offering. Thank you.”

I open the bag and empty the contents, including paper plates and chopsticks.

“Do you want me to get you real plates, Mr. Blake?” Miles asks from the doorway.

I look up at Sebastian. “These plates are just fine for me unless you want something nicer. Don’t go all formal on my account.”

Sebastian grins. “This is just fine.” He looks up to his assistant. “Miles, I’m all set for tonight. Once Amy and I are finished, I’ll be heading off. You can go home early tonight.”

“Are you sure?” Miles asks.

Sebastian nods. “Take the time now. We have a few long days ahead of us next week. Call your girlfriend and take her out to dinner at Buddakan. Use the company account.”

“Thank you. That’s our favorite restaurant.” His face grows with excitement.

“I know.” He tosses Miles his cell phone. “Place that on my desk, please. I don’t want to be disrupted for the next hour.”

“Will do, sir. Good night. And pleasure meeting you, Amy.”

I smile at Miles. “Likewise.”

Miles walks out and closes the doors behind him. It’s now just Sebastian and me in the room. The outside windows show a night sky, as the sun has now set fully. Out the window is a view of the Ben Franklin Bridge and the lights of Philly.

I grab the plates and hand him one as we both take our seats.

“So, why exactly am I going to love you?” I ask as I pick up my chopsticks.

I offer him either the chopsticks or a fork. He grabs the chopsticks. Good choice.

“My investigator went to your apartment today to see about the damage.” He scoops rice onto his plate.

I hand him one container as I dish from the other. Then, I put chow mein on my plate. “Please tell me it’s not really trashed and this was all just a scam,” I say, ever so hopeful.

He makes himself a plate of lemon chicken and chow mein. “No, it’s certainly damaged. When I first looked up your address online, I saw it was in a multifamily house and not a building, and I had a hunch. So, I needed the investigator to check on it for me, and I had him go there, posing as a contractor.” He slides a piece of paper in front of me and then picks up his chopsticks.

“What’s this?” I motion toward the paper.

“That’s the letter we’re sending to him, stating your lease is null and void because the unit isn’t a legal rental.”

“It’s not?” I ask, so shocked that I almost choke on my food.

He waits for me to stop coughing before he explains, “Your unit was semi-underground with long, narrow windows high on your wall, correct?”

“Yeah. They let in a lot of light without taking up wall space.”

“You entered through a side door instead of the main entrance?”

I nod.

“If there were a fire near the entrance of the unit, how would you get out? I bet those windows were pretty small. Could you have fit through them?” he asks.

My eyes open wide. “I never even thought about what would happen if there were a fire.”

He points his chopsticks at me. “Bingo. Not many people do. Not until it’s too late anyway.”

When I left that apartment, I hated leaving my cozy, little place, but all I can think of now is that it was a death trap waiting to happen.

“I don’t understand how this will help me.” I put the paper down and take a bite.

“Many properties in that area have garages that were converted to apartments years ago, using them as rentals. Unless they were upgraded to meet standard code, which says every unit needs two forms of egress in the event of an emergency, then they can’t legally be rented.”

“How do you know it wasn’t upgraded?”

“I looked up the building permits on the property, and there were none, but it was possible he made them without paying for permits and filing with the city. So, when my investigator went to the property, he confirmed no such safety upgrades had been made.”

“Wait. Do you think he’ll drop all money owed for the unpaid rent and damage?”

“I don’t think. I know. This letter says that we know it’s not being leased right now, so if he starts the renovations needed to make the space safe, we won’t bring legal charges against him for putting you, the tenant, in harm’s way.”

“Is it really going to be that easy?” I ask with a tilt to my head.

“It also helps that the letter is printed on our fancy stationery with the company letterhead. It’s amazing how threatening this piece of paper can be.”

“Must be the letterhead.” I smirk.

“I think it’s the paper. Rumor has it, the heavier it is, the more intimidating,” he jokes with a wink.

I let out a snort-laugh, sitting back in my chair with my hand over my mouth, feeling embarrassed in front of this extremely smart, very handsome man.

“Are you disappointed it wasn’t more dramatic and drawn out? Expecting your day in court?” he asks before taking another bite.

“Gosh, no. I’m beyond relieved. It’s a shame that ordinary people like myself fall for such unsafe living conditions.”

“You just need to know the right questions to ask. That’s why people need an attorney’s advice. Knowledge is power.”

“Any knowledge on how I can get my dog back?” I sigh as I think of my Pomeranian.

“You really love her, huh?”

“I do. I only had her for a few months before Hardin took her, but she’s my pup. She would curl up on my lap whenever I sat down, and if I had my laptop, trying to work late at night, forget about it. She would literally put her head on my hands and her paw on the trackpad while I was trying to type.”

His eyes crinkle as he listens to me speak. And he’s not just sitting here, staring at me while I talk. His shoulders lean in, and he nods sincerely.

“It’s like she was trying to make sure you weren’t working too hard.”

“You’re making her seem sweeter than she is. Lady Featherington is the center of attention at all times. She is very playful, but have no doubt, she is a diva. Honestly, I love that about her. She melts my heart, you know?”

He grins, and my heart picks up a little.

“I get that,” he states as he sticks his hand into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it and shows me a picture of a dog, gray in color with one ear up and the other flopped. He’s scruffy yet handsome. “I have a rescue mutt of my own. Duke. He’s a Wowauzer. A Welsh terrier schnauzer mix. He’s very friendly and playful. Got him seven years ago, and he’s my best friend. I understand why you want your dog back. Their lifespan is only so long; you don’t want to lose any time.”

“Exactly.”

He closes his wallet and then slides it to his pocket. “I can help you get her back.”

“Thank you, but this is something I need to do on my own. Hardin has been a huge prick to me. Walking away from the apartment like this was the final straw for my silence. I’m going to get my dog back myself.”

“Good for you,” he states with a firm nod, like he’s proud of me.

“Thanks.” I pause and go back to picking at my food. “I guess this means, you’re not my attorney anymore.”

“No. I guess I’m not.”

I get the feeling I should leave now, but I honestly don’t want to. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You can, but I can’t guarantee I won’t plead the Fifth.” He smirks, making me do the same.

“If you won the lottery today, would you continue to work?”

“That’s a random question. Any particular reason?”

“Just something that came to mind. It’s silly. Forget I even asked. You can plead the Fifth.”

Leaning back in the leather conference chair, he steeples his hands and holds them up to his mouth. He eyes me with a quizzical look, which makes me feel uneasy. As his mouth quirks up on the side, I see a dimple on his cheek, which surprises me with how sexy I find it.

“This,” he states easily. “I can honestly say, there is nothing I’d rather do than be an attorney.” He drops his hands to the armrests and swivels toward me. “The work challenges me, and being in charge is a good place to be.” That cavalier smile of his is enchanting. “Plus, I really enjoy helping people. I got into law to further public good and change the way the world is run. My cases haven’t all been easy, but I’ve never taken a case I didn’t believe in.”

Of all the answers he could have given, his is the very best.

“What about you?” He leans in, his tone deep and hushed. “What would Amy Morgana do if she never had to work?”

I raise a shoulder. “Funny you ask since I’ve never worked a day in my life. Making chocolate is my passion. How can I claim it’s work when I’m having so much fun, doing it?”

Those eyes. The caramel hue of his sinful gaze is looking at me like I just gave him the answer to the most interesting question. His tongue darts out and licks his lips as he smiles slowly.

With a swallow, I divert my attention to the table and remember the gift I brought him in my bag. I reach in my tote and grab a narrow box. “Before I forget, this is for you.”

He accepts the mauve-and-white box, adjusting it so he can read the words engraved in navy script on the top.

“Amy Morgana Chocolatier. You brought me dinner and dessert?”

“Again, it’s part of my thank-you.”

“I’ll savor these.”

I lift my chopsticks and go back to eating, trying to hide my blush from the way he glances over at me every few seconds and grins.

We finish our meals, and there’s this looming feeling of our night coming to an end, no matter how much I don’t want it to. Our conversation has flowed so easily, and the hour has flown by.

I start to clean up our mess and throw our trash in the bag that I brought it in when he stands.

“Here, let me help you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I got it.” I reach for the last container and tie the bag, tossing it in a nearby trashcan. Next, I grab my tote, looking toward the door, and hope I remember the way back to the lobby.

Sebastian must sense my unease because he offers, “I’ll walk out with you. Just let me get my things from my office.”

He leads me out of the conference room and into an office with Sebastian’s name on a gold placard. When I enter, I instantly feel like I’m in a no-bullshit zone.

Bookshelves filled with legal books line the far wall with his dark cherry wood desk in front of it. Everything on the desk has its place, all angled toward a leather chair like little soldiers, and there doesn’t seem to be a speck of dust anywhere. The plant in the corner doesn’t have one leaf that’s turning color, and the view out the window of the city is to die for.

While it’s impressive and regal, none of it compares to the personal touches that make the office warm and welcoming. His law degree from University of Pennsylvania that sits in the corner is framed, but an old hat with a P on the front of it hangs off the side.

A photo of who I assume are his parents sits in a frame next to it with him in the middle. His father, a man with tan skin and a wide smile, stands beside Sebastian, who has his arm around a woman with blonde hair and eyes the same as his. They’re clutching to him with pride as they pose on a dock overlooking the ocean.

I glance to the other side of the room and have to hold in my laughter at a photo of Sebastian with the Phillies mascot, Phillie Phanatic, on the wall.

“Baseball fan?” I ask.

“Absolutely. One of the charities I volunteer for got honored at a game last year, and they let us go on the field.” The way he says it with so much excitement makes me smile.

“Pretty fun day then, I guess.” I try to downplay.

“Just another day at the office.” He grins.

“I suppose you get a lot of perks, working as a high-profile attorney. Are you living out all of your twelve-year-old boy dreams?” I tease.

“Twelve-year-old, nineteen-year-old … hell, even thirty-year-old dreams.”

I laugh as he grabs his stuff, and we head out the door.

We walk down the hallway and make our way to the elevator. Inside the glass enclosure, I feel this searing energy in the air, a prickling that something amazing is about to happen.

It doesn’t though. Instead, the doors open rather quickly, and we are in the main lobby of the building. There’s someone different at the front desk and a security officer by the front doors. We walk toward them and onto the street.

“Well”—I pull my bag up high onto my shoulder—“thank you again for your help. I never would have even considered it not being a legal apartment.”

“I’m glad we could solve the problem easily.”

If I’m not mistaken, I see a hint of indecisiveness with his body language.

I pause, staring into his eyes, seeing if he’ll say anything else. When he doesn’t, I take a deep breath and turn to leave.

I walk away when I hear him say, “Amy?”

My feet spin around so fast that my hair whips in my face.

Sebastian takes a step forward. “Do you have any plans for tonight?” His voice is almost hesitant. “I was going to go out for a drink and would love if you could join me. Totally platonic, of course. I’m not your attorney anymore, but I don’t want you thinking I’m trying to take advantage of a job well done, like you owe me or something.”

I feel my heart instantly pound harder with both nerves and happy sensations flowing through me. “You’ve been nothing but chivalrous, Mr. Blake. And, well, I’d be more than pleased to have a drink with you.”

The cheesy smile that spreads over his face makes him cuter than ever. “Great. I think you’ll love this place.”