Beyond Bliss Read online

  He laughed without humor.

  Fucking hell.

  Chapter Five

  “So have you met anyone yet?”

  The phone she balanced precariously between her shoulder and ear slipped and clattered loudly on the hard cherry wood desk right as she reached for the stack of files sitting at the edge.

  “Sophie? Sophie? Are you there?” Her mother’s high-pitched voice screeched from the fallen receiver. She fought the temptation to leave it there when her mother continued. “I don’t know why you can’t put me on the speakerphone. You’re always dropping the phone and banging it in my ears.”

  What about the torture you inflict on my ears? On a daily basis?

  Wisely, she kept her mouth shut and picked up the handset again. Putting her mother on any kind of speaker would guarantee that the entire office would know all of her business by the end of the day.

  “Are you there? Sophie, are you there?”

  “Sorry Mom,” she sighed into the phone. “My speakerphone is broken right now.” Out of habit, her index and middle finger automatically crossed.

  It was so much easier when her dad was alive.

  Or maybe her mother only turned into a paranoid, nagging wreck once he’d died?

  Either way, things would have been better for both of them if he was still around. Ever since Jeannie Harlow had become a widow, she’d focused her attention on her only child with the same kind of single-minded determination that took out international terrorists.

  “What kind of law firm do you work for that won’t provide proper telephone equipment to their employees?” her mother asked irritably.

  A smart-mouthed reply was on the tip of her tongue, but she kept quiet. At least her mother was off the topic of her disastrous love life.

  Well, disastrous sex life.

  Actually, when she thought about it, not really a sex life at all. One mind-blowing, orgasm-filled evening did not a sex life make.

  In the two weeks since that awful morning at the W, she’d managed not to think about it too often.

  Every other waking hour, and maybe a few sleeping ones did not amount to too often.

  Her mother continued her signature habit of chattering and complaining. She only heard half of it as her mind drifted.

  Something about a cruise her mother was going to take with her aunt and property taxes.

  The neighbor who purposely let his dog do number two on the front lawn.

  Files and phone conversation forgotten, she closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair as phantom particles drifted together in one mouthwateringly male form.

  It began with a finely chiseled chest, not too sinewy but with just the right amount of lean muscle covered by taut skin with a healthy tan. Strong, broad shoulders curved up with masculine grace. It was hard to decide exactly which direction to go for the piece de resistance.

  If she moved up, she’d find the face of an Adonis. A strong, angular jaw, lips that were almost too full to belong on a man, and dark, intense slate gray eyes.

  If she moved down, she could picture exactly the thick, perfect length—

  A sharp rapping sound on her door made her jump and jolted her out of her reverie.

  She flushed guiltily as Liz stood in the doorway. The other woman gave her a meaningful look, and she began to shift the files on her desk around in no particular order. Her mother was still going on, and it didn’t appear like she was going to run out of steam anytime soon.

  “Mom, I have to go,” she murmured, motioning the other woman into her office.

  “You never want to talk to me anymore, you’re always too busy. You never pick up the phone when—”

  “Mom,” she interrupted firmly, “it was great catching up, but I have to go. I’ll call you later.” Sound was still coming out of the receiver when her finger moved to disconnect the call.

  She sighed heavily as Liz comfortably settled herself in a chair. “Sorry about that.”

  Her friend smirked in response. “Honestly, I don’t know how you put up with Jeannie. No offense, but I could hear her in the hallway outside of your office.”

  She shrugged. “She means well. She’s just lonely.”

  Liz stared at her friend. “Honey child, I have known you since high school. Even as kids, every single time we were on the phone, I could hear her in the background.”

  She just shrugged again and opened a file folder. She began to scribble notes on her legal pad, her eyes steady on the documents in front of her.

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  Yes.

  She crossed her fingers under her desk. “No.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care,” she muttered.

  “Well, clearly you are still mad at me. You can barely look at me! We haven’t been out for drinks in weeks, and—”

  “There’s a good reason for that!” she interrupted.

  Liz held her hands up dramatically. “Well, I don’t know the good reason because you’re keeping me in the dark. Jesus H. Christ, getting laid is supposed to loosen you up, not tighten you up. Just be honest with me,” she pleaded. “Was he that awful in bed? Did he have a small dick? If you’re going to blame me, you at least owe me some details.”

  Even though she was used to her friend’s blunt way of speaking, she still slightly cringed at Liz’s blunt words.

  "Liz," she hissed furiously. "The door is still open!

  Liz's eyes took on a wicked gleam. "Spill everything or I'll keep going."

  She wouldn't do any such thing, but Sophie did need to get it out. She twisted her lips wryly. "You know this line of questioning constitutes as sexual harassment?"

  "Pssh Counselor Harlow" Liz huffed, but she got up and shut the door. "I was the first person you called when you got your rag. You're going to tell me eventually. I'm just saving your stubborn ass the time. Come on, tell Aunt Liz. What, he couldn't get it up?"

  She'd been in the middle of taking a sip from her water bottle, but it came streaming out of her mouth like a fountain at her friend's outlandish question.

  "Need me to whack you on the back?" the other woman offered un-helpfully.

  Mutely, she shook her head before she cleared her throat.

  Liz sat back in her chair and folded her manicured hands expectantly.

  Sophie drew in a deep breath. "It was amazing," she muttered.

  Liz leaned forward, eyes bright. "Go on, go on," she waved her hand. "Orgasm?"

  "Several," she replied matter-of-factly.

  "Spaced apart or one right after the other?"

  "Both."

  Liz let out a tiny squeal and clapped her hands like a small child at a carnival. "Yay! What's that?" She cupped a hand behind an ear. "Oh, is that a thank you from my best friend for helping her get laid before the next ice age? Oh, it is! You're welcome oh-sister-of-my-heart!"

  It took a few seconds before Liz realized the room's other occupant was glaring at her. She stopped crowing for a moment, an uneasy look starting to take hold on her face.

  "Uh oh. What happened?"

  "I should smack you, not thank you!" Sophie exclaimed indignantly.

  "Well, before you do that at least tell me why."

  "I threw a vibrator at him," Sophie nearly shouted. Just as quickly, she slapped a hand over her mouth when she realized she hadn't exactly been quiet.

  Liz's blue eyes nearly bugged out. "Come again?"

  "Oh God," Sophie groaned, her head sinking into her hands.

  "Did you just say you threw a vibrator at him? I thought you didn't want a sex toy?" she asked, confused.

  Sophie's head snapped up. "You are completely missing the point."

  "Which is?"

  "Liz, did you ever wonder why someone hot, clearly successful, and obviously loaded would proposition me?" Sophie asked the question she herself had been stewing over for weeks.

  "Uhh, cause you're hot and he wants sex as much as you?"

  "No! Because he's a
pervert!"

  "He wanted to tie you up? Tried to use anal beads? Butt plugs?" Liz was still baffled.

  Sophie prayed for patience before she began to recite the story from the beginning. Liz's eyes shifted from questioning to interested.

  "Wow," she breathed. "Mark and I haven't had sex like that in ages. What are you getting all pissy for?"

  "Can you stop interrupting me?" she hissed impatiently. "I'm getting there."

  "Well, do it faster. No pun intended." Liz smirked.

  Sophie scowled. “So the morning after…”

  Liz performed a mini drum roll on the desk.

  “He whips out a vibrator. And before you ask, yes it was brand new. It was in the package. And then he says to me that he got it for me on his trip, and he knows it can’t kiss me like he can but maybe we can use it.”

  Liz frowned in confusion.

  “Liz,” Sophie began slowly, “That night we were at the Grill, that was what I told you…remember? A vibrator couldn’t kiss me like a man could…” she trailed off, leaving it to Liz to read in between the lines.

  “Well, that’s sure as fuck one strange ass coincidence. I’m still not getting it though. Blame it on sleep deprivation thanks to your goddaughter. Why exactly is this a bad thing? You guys think alike.”

  “Liz, he was at the Grill that night. He sat right next to us, and he heard everything we talked about, and then he made plans to pick me up the night I went trolling for sex.”

  For once, her best friend was speechless. Her mouth pursed in a small “o.”

  A few seconds ticked by in silence.

  “You’re fucking joking.”

  “Do you think I would throw a vibrator at a man’s head just for kicks? Do you even think I’d pick one up for kicks?”

  “Okay, at some point, we need to work on your aversion to sex toys, but oh my God. You know I hate clichés, but you go girl.”

  “Is that all you have to say?” Sophie squealed. The question ended on a high-pitched note. At the unpleasant thought that she was beginning to sound like her mother, she cringed. “Really? Are you nuts?” she asked in a much lower voice.

  “You know it. But not about this—definitely not about this. If you were going to lose your virginity again, at least it was to someone who works for Orgasms ‘R Us and who does not subscribe to the school of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.”

  Sophie’s incredulous look didn’t fade.

  “Well, at least you’re back on the proverbial horse. Riding on top of the world, cowgirl. Wait, were you on top at all? Forget it,” she said quickly when Sophie blushed deeply. “You broke the curse. Now, next time won’t be so hard.”

  “There is not going to be a next time,” Sophie said adamantly.

  Liz gave her a pitying look. “Honey, please, just do it for me at least. You’ll thank me later on. Once you squeeze a large melon out of your va-jay-jay and said melon becomes the reason you no longer sleep, shave your legs, and have sex, all you will have to fall back on are the memories. Memories and quickies, one of which will result in another melon. After that, forget it. You blink, and then it’s menopause and by the time you hit your second sexual peak in life, he’s diddling his secretary, you divorce him and take half of everything and you either become a cougar or start seeing a gentle, older widower who has to rely on Viagra. Trust me, you want to fit in as much sex as you can before any of that happens. It’s worse than turning thirty. All downhill from there,” she said sagely.

  “Sam and Hannah have slept through the night since they were born,” Sophie pointed out, referring to Liz’s babies, both under the age of two. “And every time you and Mark have sex, you think it’s okay to divulge every detail. Which just happens to be every single day.”

  Liz shrugged. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Happens to a lot of people, although, if he fucked around on me, he knows I’d cut off his balls and force-feed them to him for the main course. And you’ve been ‘spared’,” she used air quotes, “from the details for the last two weeks because you’ve been intolerable to be around.”

  “You and Mark haven’t been screwing like Beatrix Potter characters because of me?”

  “Of course not,” she scoffed. “We both have needs. Plus, I’m this close to convincing him to pierce his—”

  “Enough!” Sophie held her hands over her ears and began to hum. Liz was a manipulative master, which was just one of the traits that made her a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom.

  “You done being mad at me?” she asked smugly.

  “Yes! Damn it.”

  A satisfied expression spread over her face. “Good. Let’s grab a drink after work. Mark has baby duty tonight. Maybe I’ll get tipsy and jump him when I get home.”

  “No! You’ve done enough. Anyway, I’m up to my neck with the due diligence for the Raj Corp Bank merger.” Perfect excuse. Even if it was true. The sheer amount of work on her plate had been a blessed distraction over the last few weeks.

  “About that—the reason I came in was actually not to break you down, believe it or not. Carter reassigned it to me,” she said unhappily. “I’m supposed to get the files from you.”

  Sophie’s brow marred in confusion. “How come?”

  “Well, he wasn’t happy about it, I’ll tell you that much. I don’t know a whole lot else, but you’re getting some big deal to work through. Apparently, you were specifically requested as the lead attorney, hotshot.” Liz’s words held no malice, although if they were both being honest, she was more the hotshot attorney than Sophie.

  While Sophie worked hard and was good at what she did, Liz thrived off of it. If there was a big deal in the works, Liz deserved it, but if a client was requesting a specific attorney, even Carter’s hands were tied.

  “How come Carter isn’t telling me himself?”

  It was a good question.

  Twelve years ago, she’d first met him when he’d shown up for her father’s funeral.

  “Something about having to leave early because of Laura’s birthday,” she shrugged.

  Sophie frowned. She was incredibly close with his wife, and her birthday was not for another six months.

  Something smelled fishy, but Liz was oblivious as she continued, “But you guys have a meeting tomorrow morning, the client’s coming in. Some real-estate bigwig slash corporate guru. This is your big shot. Maybe you can marry him and we’ll both retire—you can support both me and your god-children. Mark can fend for himself.”

  She began to organize the files and email her notes on the Raj Corp Bank merger to Liz, only half listening to her friend. Her non-committal grunts were no match for Liz’s tactics, and somehow she was bullied into drinks again. Liz made her look up the reviews for a new bar that had opened around the corner, but as she recited some of the reviews, her mind was elsewhere. Why would a huge client specifically request her? Most of her clients were not-for-profits. The companies she did work for were all small to mid-sized, and although they’d had good experiences with her, she was usually paired with another attorney. Lead attorney?

  Her unease grew.

  When had she tumbled down the rabbit hole? And why couldn’t she shake the feeling that even though this would get her into the big leagues, it was also going to get her into big trouble?

  Chapter Six

  She headed to the sideboard the moment she entered the conference room. She’d already taken two aspirin and chugged two bottles of water, but the light pounding in her head stubbornly refused to go away.

  Coffee. She needed coffee. She poured a healthy cup of caffeine and kept it black in the hopes that it would jolt her back into the world of the living.

  The night before, she’d matched Liz, martini for martini. Four martinis later, it was a miracle that she wasn’t kissing the floor. Her memories of getting home were fuzzy, and her eyes peeled open at the ungodly hour of five a.m. Unable to fall back asleep for the additional two hours she desperately wanted, she showered, haphazardly threw on clothes
, and headed into the office.

  It was just as well. She’d spent two hours finalizing the transition work to complete the handover to Liz before heading into Carter’s conference room to meet with her new client.

  The new, uber-wealthy client that had requested her specifically.

  She hadn’t wanted to seem ungrateful, so she’d kept her concerns to herself, but something was rotten in Denmark.

  She sank into one of the plush leather chairs at the middle of the oblong table and face-planted into her hands. The day was already dragging on, and it was only nine thirty in the morning. Liz hadn’t even made it into the office yet.

  “Sophie!” Carter boomed cheerfully.

  Her head snapped up as he entered the room. Carter McPherson, managing partner of McPherson and Smith, was a small man with a loud voice.

  A loud and angry one.

  He was not one to boom cheerfully. It was even joked throughout the office, albeit in hushed whispers, that Carter had exited the womb with a scowl on his face.

  Carter had been a friend of her father’s during their adolescence, and she’d met him during her father’s funeral twelve years ago. He’d been a gruff, constant presence in her life ever since, watching over both her and her mom.

  But even in his nicest, most intimate moments, Carter did not boom cheerfully.

  Sophie stared at him suspiciously. Something was definitely up his sleeve. “Where’s my new client? And by the way, why’d you lie about Laura’s birthday?”

  His face turned ruddy, but he ignored her, instead raising one of his bushy brows at her. “Not even a good morning to greet me? After I assign you the client of the century?”

  “G’morning. And you know you didn’t do it out of the goodness of your heart, I know they requested me.”

  He shook his head at her and muttered something under his breath. “If I’d have known that you and Liz were going to be double the trouble, I’d have never hired both of you.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, something most of his employees would have never dared. “Save it old man. You know you love us. Now what gives? Something is going on.”