Amber Nights - The Esquire Girls Series - Amber's Story (Books 1, 2, 3 & 4) - Box Set Read online

  Just then, Mr. Moretti’s son saunters into the conference room relieving me of the burden of being the center of attention. “Spencer. Good to see you,” he says as the two men exchange a firm handshake.

  “Matt. Same here,” Spencer replies, his undeniable charisma clearly overpowering Matt’s.

  Despite their pleasant words, I can feel an underlying tension between the two of them. I wonder what that’s all about.

  Mr. Moretti clears his throat. “We should get started,” he says, taking a seat at the head of the table. We all ease our way into the executive chairs and swivel to face Mr. Moretti. It isn’t lost on me that Spencer chose to sit opposite me, his long legs outstretched under the glass tabletop just enough that his feet brush against mine every now and then. I don’t move my legs when I sense contact with his but I feel a little nervous that one of my colleagues might clue in on the game of footsies that our client has initiated with me.

  For my benefit, Mr. Moretti describes the mandate from the top. He explains that Spencer has his heart set on acquiring a dilapidated building that has recently been put up for sale in a working class neighborhood in the west of Montreal. According to Mr. Moretti, as per Spencer’s normal modus operandi, he intends to demolish the building and construct condos on the lot. Given its proximity to the downtown core, this project is expected to be highly lucrative for Spencer’s condo development firm, DisSpence Development Group Inc. The problem, however, is that the city’s bureaucrats are being a pain in the ass. The zoning is all wrong. There are liens against the building. The seller is being difficult. Things are moving slowly. All this spells disaster when dealing with a determined and impatient man like Spencer Harrison.

  By the time the meeting ends nearly an hour later, I have a comprehensive grasp of our client’s goals, the obstacles to the project and the tasks I have to accomplish to move the thing forward.

  Mr. Moretti adjourns the meeting and the other lawyers say their goodbyes before filtering out of the conference room. I remain seated at the table and continue to meticulously note all the important points that have been raised during the meeting. I want to make sure that I have it all written down. I don’t want to forget anything.

  I don’t even realize that I’m not alone in the room until I hear him clear his throat. I spin around, alarmed, to find Spencer hovering near the door.

  Once I acknowledge him, he approaches me slowly, gliding his tongue along his bottom lip with that calm authoritativeness of his. He eases into the chair closest to me, so close I can feel the warmth radiating off of his body.

  Feeling nervous, I keep my head down. Keep on jotting notes on the note pad. He exhales heavily before covering my ferociously scribbling hand with his own.

  I stop and look up. My eyes locking into his.

  “I think you have enough notes,” he says motioning to the dozen or so ink-stained pages neatly piled next to me.

  “I—I want to make sure I’ve got everything,” I say. His flesh is still on mine. My stomach is beginning to wind into a tight knot.

  “You have enough notes,” he says again. His words come out low, raspy and commanding. I feel the muscles between my thighs clench at the sensual tone of his voice. I run my hand over my hair again as if to smooth over my ragged nerves. “If you need any more information, you’ll call me,” he says releasing my hand to reach into the inside pocket of the suit jacket that is now adorning his broad shoulders. He hands me an elegant black business card with gold embossed letters raised slightly off of the thick paper. I nod as I grasp it in my feeble hands and run my thumb across the smooth texture.

  He adjusts the expensive watch around his wrist. “Join me for lunch.” It’s more of a command than a request.

  “Uh – I – I.” I’ve always considered myself to be a fairly articulate woman. But in the space of the hour since I’ve met this man, I’ve been reduced to a fumbling, illiterate mess.

  How did he do that?

  “It’s lunch, Amber. Everybody’s got to eat.” The words seem innocent enough but there’s a wicked glint in his eye, one that lets me know that I can’t trust myself to be alone with him.

  “I’ve – I’ve – It’s my first day here. I’ve missed most of my orientation so far. I have to go to the rest of my trainings. It’s really important.” Finally! I’m able to string together a few coherent words.

  Spencer sighs heavily. “Okay,” he shrugs. “So be it.” He pushes his chair back as he eases to his feet.

  I breathe a sigh of relief – I’m finally in the clear.

  But then, he’s standing over me. I lean back in my chair to put some distance between my face and his crotch.

  “I’ll have my secretary call you to set up dinner sometime this week.” His voice is low as he bends to my ear. Barely a whisper. “You’ll have dinner with me. I need to know the members of my team on a personal level. So…dinner.”

  Before I can protest, he’s out the door, leaving nothing behind but the lingering scent of his aftershave and the pheromones causing me to ache between the legs.

  I try to exhale the tension that has stored up in my body during my brief one-on-one with Spencer. When I’m satisfied that I’ve somewhat regained my composure, I feel ready to rejoin the outside world. I gather my notes and spin my chair in the direction of the door and stand.

  I gasp, my papers flying to the floor.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you. Sorry.” Matt crouches to help me pick up the papers now scattered all over the carpet.

  “I didn’t hear you come in. I thought everyone had left,” I say in a low voice, as I gather up the last pages. I stand and smooth over the fabric of my seriously-wrinkled skirt.

  “Actually, I just came back because I realized that I never got the chance to formally introduce myself,” Matt says. That naughty sparkle is back in his dark eyes.

  “Oh,” I say. I offer up a tight smile.

  “Matteo Moretti – you can call me Matt,” he says, extending a well-manicured hand. He flashes a brash smile as if to say ‘I know you already know who I am’.

  Ugh! He’s hot but he’s cocky and I can’t stand that.

  “Amber Roberts. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I try to exude some pleasantness but I’m sure my efforts fall flat.

  Luckily, Matt doesn’t seem to notice my failed attempt to suppress my budding contempt for him. He puffs up his chest like a peacock. “No, Amber, the pleasure is all mine,” his tongue runs across his bottom lip with a deliberateness that is meant to make me melt. Maybe if I hadn’t just met Spencer Harrison, I would be a puddle on the floor right now. Unfortunately for Matt, meeting our Adonis-of-a-client has made me totally unreceptive to Matt’s arrogant flirtations.

  “So, pretty intense meeting, huh?” Matt says, pushing his way past me to sit on the edge of the conference table.

  I turn to face him. With as much enthusiasm as I can muster, I say, “Yes. It seems like a very interesting file. I’m really excited to start working on it.”

  Matt kind of rolls his eyes. “Harrison is sort of a douche. He’s ‘new rich’, y’know. He doesn’t quite know how to pull it off yet.” Matt pauses to adjust his silver and blue tie before continuing. “Anyway, it’s a big file and I figured I could get you up to speed over lunch. My treat.”

  Damn! I can count on one hand the number of times my cheap ex-boyfriend of two years had willingly paid for my meal and I’ve been on this job for less than a day and I’ve already had meal invitations thrust on me by two very attractive men.

  How the times have changed!

  “Sorry. I need to get to my orientation. No time for lunch today.” I offer a taut smile.

  “Okay. Well, let’s schedule it in for tomorrow then.”

  “Orientation is supposed to be a week-long thing. I’m not sure if I’ll be free anytime this week.”

  “We’ll have to fit in a briefing at some point this week, Amber–“ Irritation is creeping into his voice.

  “Okay, I’ll dro
p by your office first thing in the morning.” I’d rather keep my interactions with Matt strictly business. I have more control over that if I meet with him within the confines of this office building instead of at some restaurant where he’ll inevitably try to get cozy with me.

  Matt looks mildly disappointed. “Okay, I guess that will work.”

  I smile stiffly at him again. “It really was a pleasure meeting you, Matt. I look forward to working with you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He pushes off of the table and swaggers out of the room leaving me standing there with a stale taste in my mouth.

  Chapter 3

  It’s almost 1:30 when I slip into the small training room where the seven other newbies are sitting around a long, oak veneer conference table suffering through the never-ending orientation trainings. Although I’m trying to be discreet, seven pairs of weary eyes shift to me as I stand in the doorway trying to figure out where to sit.

  A pretty blonde with plump rosy cheeks moves her oversized Phillip Lim handbag from the chair to her left. Her smiling blue eyes invite me to sit. I smile back at her as I slide into the chair.

  “Well, well. Nice of you to rejoin us, Amber,” Pam says, looking away from the presentation being cast onto the plain white wall by the overhead projector. She adjusts the handles of her navy blue plastic-framed glasses. “We were starting to worry that the pressures of working at a major law firm had already overwhelmed you on the first day.” She hands me a black folder labeled ‘Law Firm Ethics’. I glance up at the projection and notice that the presentation that I’ve walked in on has the same title. A taut smile stretches across my lips but I don’t offer Pam an answer. She knows that I’d been summoned by Mr. Moretti this morning so her snarky comments are unnecessary and only serve to reinforce my belief that she’s a flat-out bitch.

  The girl next to me offers sympathetic eyes. Hailey Lundeen. That’s her name. It’s written in large letters across the cream-colored place card sitting on the table in front of her.

  As I reach across to grab a paper plate and one of the fancy artisanal sandwiches sitting on the platter in the middle of the table, I notice place cards in front of all of my new colleagues.

  Directly across from me is Luke Daley. He’s blond-haired with light eyes and looks a bit skinny under his cheap business suit. He looks young. Real young. But his struggle-‘stache is evidence that he’s trying to appear older. Poor thing – He probably thinks his patchy facial hair will help boost his credibility in the dog-eat-dog world of corporate law.

  Next to him is Nadia Chester. Her flawless skin is a beautiful shade of deep brown. Her wild, curly hair is restrained by a black headband. Her eyes are bright and eager. Her long fingers are flying frantically across her keyboard as she takes note of Pam’s every word. She wears simple trousers and a floral-patterned blouse under her classic blazer.

  A svelte, sharply dressed brunette sits next to Nadia. Her hair is pulled back into a neat chignon and her makeup is muted but impeccable. She wears a pearly white collared blouse under a tailored blazer with ankle-length black pants. She’s in Louboutin heels – of course. Madison Moretti. Shit! Another one of Mr. Moretti’s offspring. Nepotism at its finest. I silently pray that she’s not as arrogant as her brother but judging by the haughty expression on her face as she gazes uninterestedly in Pam’s direction, I think it’s safe to conclude that she might be a bit of a “douchette”.

  Next to her, Chase DuBois. Tall, dark and handsome, but his arrogance is palpable. Smug, overconfident, pompous, self-important – just a few of the words that come to mind when trying to describe him. I know I’ve never talked to the guy, but it’s written all over his gorgeous face. Enough said.

  Domenic Gattusso sits to Chase’s left. He’s cute in a “guy next door” kind of way. His solid build suggests that he plays some kind of rough sport. He’s blond and rugged and laid back with his satin tie loose around his neck and his suit jacket hanging open. He offers me a lopsided smile that is friendly but not flirtatious. He seems like a pretty nice guy. I hope we get along.

  Finally, to Domenic’s left sits a leggy blonde with piercing blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. She’s wearing a grey high-neck dress that covers her ample cleavage and runs a little bit past her knees. From where I’m sitting, I’d guess that she’s about five foot ten or five foot eleven. She’s gorgeous. I’d bet that she was in the middle of a runway walk somewhere in Europe when Cartwright Moretti Stevenson called to offer her the summer associate job. Her place card says Ruth Salvador.

  My attention snaps back to the presentation as I hear Pam say, “This is probably one of the firm’s sternest ethical requirements, particularly for – how do I say this diplomatically? – eager young associates like yourselves. Cartwright Moretti Stevenson has a strict prohibition on sexual contact between our employees and our clients.”

  The guys around the table exchange sly glances and somebody lets out a chuckle. I think it might have been Chase.

  Pam continues, “Personally, I think this goes without saying. It’s just basic professionalism. But the firm has had issues with this in the past, particularly at our California office, and it has proven to be a major liability for the firm. That being said, sexual contact between an employee and a client is strictly prohibited and is grounds for immediate dismissal.” She pauses for effect. “Any questions?”

  Chase pipes up in that pompous douchebag way of his. “Isn’t that a violation of our freedom of…I don’t know, some constitutionally-protected right? Help me out guys!” There are a few snickers around the table.

  Madison rolls her eyes and folds her arms tightly across her chest. “I’m glad you all find this funny. Inappropriate relationships between clients and employees has been a real problem for this firm in the past. A costly problem.”

  “Thank you for the contribution, Madison,” Pam says with a hint of a smirk before turning back to the rest of us. “If there are no more questions, we can wrap this up for the day.” She’s gathering her papers. “If I understand correctly, you all have a meet and greet dinner tonight with a few of the lawyers. 7:30. Chez Depardieu, I think the restaurant is called. The details should be in your email. Dress nicely and go light on the booze. See you back here tomorrow at 8:30.” With that, she pirouettes on her heels and is out the door.

  As I gather my things and head down the hall to my cubicle, I can’t help but think about Spencer Harrison and his eyes and his lips and all the sexy things my body wants to do to his. I hear Pam’s voice replaying in my head. ‘Sexual contact between an employee and a client is strictly prohibited’.

  As she shuffles past me in the hallway, Hailey leans in and whispers, “Well there goes my ‘get-a-hot-rich-business-mogul-husband’ plan.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  Chapter 4

  I didn’t end up getting much sleep last night. The meet and greet dinner was at a fancy French restaurant on the Upper East side, bordering on Central Park. Not the typical diet that I’m used to on my mac and cheese budget, so I have to say that I enjoyed it. I had a duck confit with caramelized onions that made me sigh involuntarily and a crème brulee that will find it’s way to my thighs before the end of the day. I washed it all down with about three glasses of expensive red wine. All on the firm’s tab, so who cares?

  I got to meet Wallace Cartwright and James Stevenson, the firm’s two other named partners, and I had a lovely chat with Chrissy Vargas, a junior partner in the firm’s securities practice who’s been assigned to be my mentor during the summer session.

  All in all, I would say that it was an evening well spent. Which is surprising because lawyers are usually not the most good-humored bunch.

  Take for instance the jerk I’m scurrying down the hall to meet with now.

  Yesterday, I had promised Matt that I would swing by this office first thing in the morning. And while it’s the last thing I want to do right now, I know that if I blow him off again, he’ll either continue to hound me or he’ll put me on his h
it-list. I can’t afford either of those options right now because he is, after all, the boss’s son.

  “Good morning, Matt,” I say with just the right mix of perk and professionalism as I stand in his doorway.

  “Amber,” He says, looking up from the screen of his laptop computer. His eyes rake over me lustfully before he eases to his feet. “Good morning. Close the door behind you.” I cringe hoping that he won’t continue his creepy pursuit of me today – I’m sleep-deprived and I really don’t have the strength to deal.

  His light pink shirt is tucked into his gray slacks and his wavy black hair is moussed perfectly into place. He watches me silently as I hover near the door fidgeting uncomfortably. When I tire of waiting for an invitation to sit, I ease myself into one of the fabric-covered chairs opposite his sleek desk. “You said we should meet this morning – to discuss Spencer Harri—“

  “The DisSpence Developments Group file,” Matt cuts me off. I suspect that he would rather refer to the company name instead of hearing Spencer’s name come out of my mouth.