Page 14 of A Secret Chance
A man stepped around her, holding a tray of coffee in his left hand, his right outstretched. “Mr. Thomas Filterton.”
Lauren shook his hand. The other, older man stepped forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Bunkman,” he smiled. “I’m Caldwell’s lead attorney on this project.”
“Ah, you must be Barry Birkner.” Finally, someone with a set of social skills, Lauren thought to herself as she shook Mr. Birkner’s hand.
“Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the chairs she had set up in front of her desk.
“Oh, here? Is this what passes as a conference room in this town?” Thomas smirked and looked around the small room.
“We could go back to the sidewalk if you’d like,” Lauren sat down and put on her glasses. She knew she sounded snarky, but their condescending comments were pushing her buttons. “Shall we get started?”
The trio sat down, leaving the center chair open. “Mr. Caldwell is on a call, so he will be in momentarily,” the blond woman said.
“Oh, I didn’t realize that he would be joining us today.” Lauren quickly glanced at her notes. She had been expecting the lawyer, their consultant, and an assistant.
“He likes to get his hands dirty,” Thomas smiled, and Lauren shivered. His perfect veneers against his tanned face made him look like a cyborg.
Mr. Birkner cleared his throat. “This project is very important to Mr. Caldwell, Junior”
“Junior?” Lauren said.
“Yes, Mr. Caldwell, Senior is stepping back from his role in the development wing of the corporation.”
This was news to Lauren. For the first time, she felt sideswiped. She thought that she knew everything about her competition, and now they were throwing this curveball at her. Two competing thoughts raced through her mind as she tried to maintain her composure. The first was that the inexperienced son of the CEO might be easier to deal with; the second thought was confirmed as the door to her office swung open, a cloud of steam escaping as the cold air met the warmth of her office. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that the sweater man; the only man that had been capable of making her heart skip a beat in the past ten years, and her opposition had just walked into her office.
“My apologies,” he said, his back to the group as he shut the door.
“That’s quite alright,” she stammered. “We were just getting acquainted.”
He turned to face the group and the smile on his face faded as his eyes met Lauren’s.
“Please, come in and have a seat.” Lauren gestured to the empty chair.
As quickly as his smile had faded, a bigger, faker one appeared in its place. “Baxter Caldwell,” he extended his hand as he took his place in front of her desk.
“Junior,” Lauren clarified.
A scarlet blush crept up from the collar of Baxter’s pea coat collar. “Junior.”
“Lauren Bunkman.” She shook his hand, squeezing it a little harder than necessary to mask the tremble that had set in.
Lauren was never one to feel sorry for herself. She had been dealt a shit hand in life, growing up in poverty, losing her mom, being a single mother and having to work multiple jobs to put herself through law school, but this just seemed like a cruel twist of fate. For the first time in years, she had let herself imagine kissing and touching a man, specifically the man in front of her, the one sent to destroy her.
***
HOLY FUCK. BAXTER COULDnow put a name to the face. The woman he had slept with ten years ago. The woman he had spent years trying to find. The woman who had skated in and out of his dreams while he was in bed with other women, was Lauren Bunkman, Attorney-at-Law. The lawyer assigned to ruin him.
“May I offer you a coffee?” Thomas smiled.
Thank God for Thomas. Baxter thought. Baxter’s consultant handed Lauren a coffee and distributed the cups to everyone else. “I hope that you weren’t scalded earlier,” Thomas smiled.
“I’m fine.” Lauren took a sip of the coffee. “And thank you for bringing these. The alternative was instant.” She pointed to the steaming electric kettle that was perched on top of the microwave.
Baxter looked around her office. The woman belonged in a glossy magazine, not a hellhole like this. The fluorescent lights hummed overheard and he swore that he felt a spring poking his ass from the seat of his uncomfortable chair.
“I feel terrible.” The blond shook her head. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”
“It was instinct,” Lauren said. She folded her hands together and rested them on top of her desk. “We should probably get started. I’m assuming you’re here to negotiate the boundaries for your project.”
