Down with Love: A Laws of Attraction Novel by Kate Meader

Author:Kate Meader [Meader, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2018-08-06T18:30:00+00:00

Charlie

Max’s office is not what I expect. I thought it would be Regency era leather or BDSM black rather than cozy Ethan Allen. A comfortable-looking cream sofa (all the better to seduce you on, m’dear) takes up one wall. Photos of Max and his family at his law school graduation, his parents wearing big, proud smiles (see, I didn’t just spawn from the devil, Charles!) line a mantel over a non-working fire. Even a garish trophy to assure the world he wasn’t always a bookworm sits on a bookcase with weighty, legal tomes.

I lean in to the hardware, expecting some signifier of his excellence at archery or lacrosse. The engraved plate says: LAKE FOREST HIGH DEBATE CHAMPIONSHIPS. 2ND PLACE.

Huh.

A shiver skitters down my spine, my body’s typical response when I’m wrong about something. But I’m not wrong about Max Henderson. My instincts know a player when I see one and I’m ninety-nine-percent positive I’ve been approaching this problem correctly—i.e., ignoring it for the last two weeks.

As I’m mulling over why someone keeps a high school trophy for second place in anything, the door opens behind me. It’s Sadie, the nice woman with the motherly smile who put me here earlier. She carries a tray with a teapot and what looks like double-chocolate Milano cookies. These people aren’t screwing around.

I rush forward. “Oh, let me take that for you.”

“No worries. And Max is on his way,” she says, setting down the tray on the coffee table, which means we’ll have to sit on the far-too-intimate sofa.

“I only meant to drop in. You don’t need to go to all this trouble.”

“Not at all!” she assures me. “The rest of Max’s afternoon is free of appointments. Slow week for the miserable. Usually he’d be in his office, preparing for tomorrow’s motions, but…” She trails off.

“But?”

“He needed to work off some steam at the PP.”

“The PP?”

“Just a place the boys use when they have excess energy.”

What, like a vitality-absorbing urinal? She says “boys” with a possessive pride, and there’s that shiver again. My instincts are going haywire.

“Now, I’d let the tea draw a second.”

I’m surprised that I could just waltz in without an appointment but Sadie and a rather imposing guy, whose body looked to be fighting the suit it was wearing, seemed strangely amused to see me. As if they’d been expecting me.

I’m about to ask more about “the PP” when a voice cuts in to my thoughts.

“Charlie, good to see you.”

I raise my gaze then wish I hadn’t. Max stands at the doorway in gym gear, looking oh-my-God sweaty. “Gym gear” isn’t the right term, though. More like workout gear, meaning how he looks is inspiring my thigh muscles and all points in between into a thorough Kegels session.

Surely sweat-drenched tank tops are inappropriate in a place of business. What if clients saw him walking around like that? Vulnerable female clients in the throes of divorce?

At least his legs are covered, though “covered” is generous. Those sweatpants are incredibly thin and look to be doing a terrible job.

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