Page 20 of Mr. Flirt

“After my failed shenanigans, I didn’t think we’d still be sitting here with dinner on the horizon.”

“Too bad I didn’t make any dares with my BFFs.” She winked at me. “I think I might have found my Mr. Wrong.”

I scowled. “Yeah?”

She grinned. “Everyone knows an addict never dates the dealer, and that game is my drug.”

I laughed and shook my head. “And I’m the dealer. Great. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“I bet you’ve got great tips and shortcuts.”

“I’m feeling used,” I teased.

“I just don’t know how you’re single.” She shook her head. “I know why I am. I despise ceremony.”

“Let’s start with the fact that I show up to dating events as a man named Perry.”

She laughed. “Well, there’s that.”

I brought my gaze to hers. “You’re not going to have an easy go of finding love, are you?”

Lucy drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Probably for the best. I’m married to my work.” She glanced at the door. “And speaking of, I do need to stop by the office before our date. I should probably head out now.”

That’s right, the date. The dinner date. The date I wasn’t sure I could handle.

I smiled, watching her straighten her shoulders and glance around the coffeeshop. “Should I pick you up or meet you there?”

She stood with eyes pointedly on me. “With you, I should probably have my own way home. Text me the restaurant details.”

“Really?” I grinned, feeling the charge roll off our bodies. “Why’s that?”

“You’re just that irresistible,” she joked and gave a quick wave as she walked out of the coffee shop, and I contemplated whether I was man enough to handle Lucy, the litigator.

Chapter Eight

To Shade or Not to Shade

Lucy

I stared at the photos in front of me and wondered if I’d doomed myself to stay single for all eternity. As I analyzed the woman in the photograph wearing dark shades, a scarf tied around her head, and a coat down to her ankles, I wondered what she got out of sleeping with a married man. Yet, with every question I posed, I had an answer.

Did she feel powerful by luring a man away?

If so, her sense of confidence was definitely in the gutter because it was never a compliment to be the other woman. No matter what the given excuse turned out to be, the man was an opportunist, and the same could be said of the woman.

Did the mistress think she was more desirable than who he was with? In all my years practicing, I’d seldom met theother womanand thought she was a keeper.

Did the mistress truly believe she had more to offer? Nine times out of ten, she had less to offer and left the wife scratching her head.

I let out a sigh and zoomed in to see the husband of my client sitting in the car, waiting for his mistress. My teeth ground together, and I had to remind myself to relax with a quick massage of my jaw. What was wrong with these men? How could they do this? Granted, I’d also represented men in the same position. So, basically, why did these people cheat?

My mind drifted back to this particular client. She came into my office with dried tears shadowing her cheeks. She was lost, confused, and completely at his mercy. It was my job to fix that. By the time she came in the following week, the credit cards that had been frozen were restored, and she would receive twelve-thousand a month for the foreseeable future.

My heart pumped quicker at the thought of getting revenge on her husband. I would do for this woman what I planned on doing for my best friend. I would make these cheating scumbags pay. It was just a shame I couldn’t go after the women they cheated with. Why in the world a mistress thought it was okay to be waiting in the wings was beyond me.

I clicked the file closed and logged off my computer.

Great!

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