Dare to Love (Maxwell #3) by S.B. Alexander

Author:S.B. Alexander [Alexander, S.B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S.B. Alexander
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

15

Kelton

Leather furnishings, deep burgundy walls, and an oriental carpet gave the reception area of Davenport Law Offices a luxurious atmosphere. As Lizzie and I waited for Mr. Davenport, sharply dressed men and women breezed by in both directions. Some hurried with folders in their hands while others casually strolled and talked. I hadn’t heard back from Mr. Davenport yet on my interview. I thought I might that day.

“Why are you nervous?” I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.

She chomped on a fingernail. “This place looks too rich for my bank account.”

“You sure that’s the reason?”

Lizzie had had a tomato-red face all the way through art class. Occasionally she’d wiped her brow as she’d sketched me. When she wasn’t clearing the sheen of sweat from her face, she was writhing in her seat. Hell, I was trying not to do the same as I posed. I had to keep my gaze on the door as I usually did, repeating my mantra. Patriots, football, Super Bowl. Getting a hard-on was impossible to control, especially when I replayed our kiss in Dillon’s basement. By the time Brew called time, I was the one sweating like a pig.

In the law office, she kept her focus on the wall across from us where a colorful abstract painting hung. Her delicate jaw was rock solid as she held a nail hostage between her lips. “Yes,” she said in a muffled tone.

I leaned into her. “Maybe you’re still thinking of me in art class.”

Her knee began to bounce.

A man cleared his throat. I straightened, turning my attention to Mr. Davenport, whose tie sat loosely around his neck as though he’d just lost a big case.

“Mr. Maxwell, nice to see you again. Why don’t we sit in the conference room right around the corner here?” He gestured to my left, the diamonds on his wedding band glimmering.

Lizzie hopped up. I trailed behind her, watching her swing her hips from side to side. I stifled a groan as we entered the richly designed conference room—oak and leather furnishings—and filed away any and all impure thoughts of Lizzie.

Mr. Davenport pulled out a chair from the massive table then eased into it. Lizzie and I chose two across from him.

After I made the introductions, I said, “Thank you for seeing us. As I mentioned on the phone, Lizzie has a problem with the trustee of her father’s estate. We suspect he’s taken off with her inheritance. We’d like to know what her legal options are.”

She fiddled with the chain of her necklace between her forefinger and thumb. “I’ve contacted the attorney in Florida who set up my parents’ estate, but he hasn’t returned my calls. And I’m in Boston trying to find the man who stole my money.”

“Do you know for certain he has?” Interest splashed over Mr. Davenport’s face.

She sucked on her cheek. “He hasn’t deposited my monthly allowance, and he didn’t pay my college tuition at the beginning of the semester. When I went to his house, he’d apparently moved out.

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