Page 35 of Resisting the Lawyer (Dirty Hot Resistance 3)

His mood is vastly improved since we went to the café but he isn’t too pleased about me not wanting to discuss my current situation.

“I don’t want to cause too much commotion at the office,” I had told him. “I’m playing it low key and that’s fine. If I don’t respond to the jabs and comments, the women will back off.”

But as I enter my home, I know that’s not the whole truth.

I’ve always considered myself an independent person and whatever I’ve faced, I’ve overcome by myself. I don’t want to lean on someone to help me. I’m not good at asking people for help.

Despite everything, Lucas might want to date me, but what if it doesn’t work out? What if he decides that we just don’t fit each other?

Staring at myself in the hallway mirror, I glare at myself. “Were you always this pessimistic?”

What started out as a pep talk didn’t go anywhere because I just stared at myself. My irate expression winding down to a helpless one before I glance at Sophie, admitting quietly, “I’m just scared.”

I know if I don’t protect myself, I’ll fall head over heels in love with this attentive man who treats me like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him. I’m scared of getting hurt.

The weekend passes fairly uneventfully. I take Sophie to the park on Sunday since the sun has come out for a while. The air is still a little cold but not that much so.

I spend the rest of the day looking at job listings.

It’s not that I’m actually considering leaving; I just want to have a backup plan. Besides, it takes weeks and months for companies to get back to applicants. It’ll be a good enough time for me to determine whether I can continue at Starr Industries or not.

Because… I lied to Lucas.

I did have this niggling feeling that Darren wants to drive me out. While I don’t plan on making this easy for him, I have a child to think about so I’m going to cover all my bases. As I circle another job advertisement, I feel a little guilty for some reason. Lucas’s face flashes in my mind and I hunch over the kitchen table, muttering, “It’s not like I’m going behind his back or anything.”

But the guilty feeling persists until Monday when I see him walking in, first thing in the m

orning.

“I don’t remember you being this early before I went on maternity leave,” I call out in greeting.

He looks up from his phone which is another new one.

Does this man eat his phones? How does he keep losing them?

Lucas looks delighted to see me and as he approaches me, I see that his hair is once again, uncombed, and his tie hasn’t even been knotted.

A piece of burnt toast with some spread on it is clenched between his teeth, and he quickly swallows it. Halfway between choking, he lets out a small grunt.

Panicking, I rush over and start thumping him on his back. I turn to quickly pour him a glass of water.

After taking a few small sips, he clears his throat, “Hi.”

“You okay?” I ask, anxiously.

Even Sophie watches us, her little face serious, as if sensing the atmosphere.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lucas waves off my concern. His face is a little flushed and he checks the huge clock in the lobby, frowning. “How come you’re always here a half hour early?”

“The bus runs on a schedule,” I explain as I round my desk and lean my elbows on it. “If I take the later one, I’ll be arriving a half hour late. This works for me. What about you?”

There’s a shift in Lucas’s expression and he airily says, “Just some work stuff. But it can wait.” He comes over and tugs at Sophie’s toes and she gurgles happily, clapping in a clumsy fashion.

I eye his clothes. “Are you sure it can wait? It looks like you were in quite a hurry when you left your home.”

Lucas blinks and when he sees his tie, he makes an odd face.

I’m instantly curious, never having seen this particular look on his face before. “What?”

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