Page 32 of Pride & Precedents

Her shoulders slump in defeat as she heads towards the car. Murray opens the door and I scoot in behind her, doing my best not to notice the way her skirt rides up as she steps in.

Murray automatically raises the privacy screen once he has the address. I make a mental note to add another zero to his Christmas bonus and then turn to Camila, who's staring out the window.

"So, do you want to tell me why you've never mentioned you're in law school? What school? What year are you?"

She keeps her eyes on the passing city blocks as she answers me in a small voice.

"I'm doing the online program at Syracuse, and I'm in my last semester."

All the air whooshes out of my lungs as I fall back against my seat.

"Yourlast semester? You've kept the fact that you're going to law school a secret forthree years?"

She smiles at me sheepishly.

"Five years, actually. The online program takes a bit more time when you have to juggle a full-time job."

I let out a humorless laugh.

"Wow. If I ever need an accomplice or help hiding a body, I'll keep you in mind. Your lips are sealed like Fort Knox."

Her smile drops at the thick sarcasm in my voice and she lays her small hand on my forearm. I'm too pissed to enjoy the contact.

"Mr. Park, are you…upset that I never told you I'm going to law school?"

Before I can answer, the car pulls to a stop. Murray's voice filters in through the intercom.

"We've arrived, Ms. Sanchez."

She gives me a worried look before silently stepping out of the car.

I keep telling myself it shouldn't hurt that she kept law school a secret. She's a grown woman, and what she does outside of work is not my concern. In fact, everyone at BBS&P knows I prefer it when they leave personal matters at home. But a paralegal deciding to go to law school is most definitely work-related.

I finger comb my hair for the hundredth time in frustration. Why would she keep that from me? All these years I could have helped her! At the very least, I could've accommodated her schedule a bit more.

The double doors of Syracuse University's Fisher Center open and her caramel leg steps out gracefully, followed shortly by the rest of her supple body. My anger and hurt completely evaporate at the sight of her.How am I supposed to keep my hands off her when her curves shout "hands on" loud enough to make me sweat?

I continue to track her movements, and she stops abruptly when she sees the car still waiting for her. I honestly don't know why I waited.Yes, you do, the primal man in me answers. He's been pissed ever since I cut things off the first time, but, unfortunately for him, he doesn't pay the bills around here.

Her trepidation is plain to see, and I step out to greet her.

"I know I didn't have to stay," I rush to explain, "but I was really hoping to continue our conversation."

She looks at me wearily, but thankfully still gets in the car.

"Where to, Ms. Sanchez?" Murray asks over the intercom.

Mila gives him the address of the Parkchester, and moments later, the car is in motion. She turns to face me.

"Look, Mr. Park—"

"Henry," I interrupt, placing my hand on top of hers in reassurance. It has nothing at all to do with wanting to touch her. She sighs and starts again.

"Look,Henry, I am sorry I kept law school a secret. I just didn't want you to think my work would suffer. I've been busting my ass to make sure that doesn't happen. I need this job." The pleading tone in her voice twists something inside me.Does she think I'm about to fire her?She anxiously grips and releases the strap of her purse.

"I also thought you had a rule about discussing anything personal at work."

She raises an accusatory eyebrow at me and I wince, upset mycompletely reasonablerules are making me sound like an asshole.

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