Niamh couldn’t help staring at the man’s face, her gaze so intense she barely remembered to blink.
Flynn caught her looking and let out a quiet chuckle.
“What, am I really that handsome?”
Realizing she’d been caught, Niamh snapped her eyes away, flustered.
“Sorry, I…”
He cut her off, tone sharp.
“Sorry? You think ‘sorry‘ is enough after you puked all over my shoes?”
Niamh’s brow furrowed at his attitude. So this was Flynn Sinclair, the infamous divorce attorney in Marisport who’d never lost a case? Turns out he was a jerk.
“I had too much to drink. Look, how much were your shoes? I’ll pay you double.”
She pulled out a business card and handed it to him.
Flynn took it, arching a brow as he read her name.
“No need for that. Just get down and clean them yourself.”
Niamh stared at him, suddenly much more sober.
“Mr. Sinclair, if you keep talking like that, I’ll call the police.”
He grinned, hands on his hips, looking insufferably pleased with himself.
“So you know my name?”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, inwardly cursing herself. Flynn’s smile only widened.
“Oh, right, you’re the woman who came by my office today, wanting to talk about a divorce case, aren’t you?”
Niamh had signed in at the front desk earlier that day, but she hadn’t expected him to remember. Apparently, after returning to his office, Flynn had glanced a 2 sign–in sheet and spotted her name and number–matching the business card she’d just handed him.
Flynn studied her from head to toe.
1/3
19:51
Not many people came to a karaoke bar dressed like they were heading to a job interview; even fewer looked as striking as Niamh.
He licked his lips.
“Do you have any idea how many people are waiting for me to take their divorce case?”
“The receptionist said your schedule’s booked until next year.”
He nodded, taking a long stride toward her. Niamh instinctively stepped back. The hallway was narrow; she found herself cornered against the wall.
“Your husband that difficult to deal with?”
He moved closer, almost pinning her in place.
When Niamh didn’t answer, he took her silence for agreement.
“I could make an exception for you.”
“And what’s the catch?”
Niamh wasn’t naïve enough to believe he was doing this out of kindness.
“You sleep with me. Once.”
The arrogance in his voice left Niamh speechless with disgust. She shoved him
away.
Flynn called after her as she walked off, his voice echoing down the hallway:
“Most people have to spend a week in my bed just to cut the line!”
Niamh felt sick just hearing it.
He called out again, nastier now:
“You’re not even a virgin and you’re getting divorced. What, trying to win some kind of purity award for your ex–husband?”
That did it. Niamh spun on her heel and marched back. Flynn thought she was reconsidering his offer, and his smug grin had just started to form when she slapped him–hard.
She didn’t hold back. The sound rang out, and Flynn was left stunned, rubbing his mouth as his thumb came away streaked with blood.
She hoped that would shut him up, but instead, he pulled out a business card. From the way he moved, it looked like he meant to slip it down her shirt. But Niamh’s
19:51
Chapter 03
blouse was buttoned all the way up, prim and proper, and after a brief hesitation, he clipped the card onto her handbag instead.
“If you change your mind, come find me. One night with me and you’ll be free of that lousy husband for good. I’ll even give you a discount on my fee. That’s a bargain.”
Niamh rolled her eyes so hard it hurt, but she didn’t toss the card away.
Flynn’s disgusting little episode left her seething, but soon, AMS’s new account kept her too busy to dwell on it. For now, she shoved the memory aside and threw herself into work.
