Free Stipulation by Sawyer Bennett Page B

have an
immense level of pride in Matt as I watch the other plaintiffs’
lawyers slap him on the back and repeatedly shake his hand. They are
all riding high on the fresh kills today, no doubt seeing the way
paved clear for a successful outcome for the victims in this case.
Matt is like a bright beacon among a sea of dull and boring people.
Everyone wants to be around him, everyone wants to hear what nugget
of wisdom or wit will come out of those sexy lips, and everyone wants
a piece of him.
    Including me.
    We are into our
third round of drinks following dinner, and I mentally tell myself
that this is the last one. I need to get to bed and get some sleep,
needing to keep my mental processes sharp tomorrow. Matt definitely
relied on my notes, often stopping several times in the deposition to
lean over and quietly ask me to clarify something that had been said.
    Taking another sip
of my wine, I watch Matt standing off to the side, deep in
conversation with one of the other attorneys. It should be an
absolute sin how good looking the man is, and another pang of longing
and regret that we couldn’t have something hits me deep in my
chest.
    Someone jostles my
barstool, causing some of my wine to spill on my dress. I had changed
from my plain black business suit to a jersey wraparound dress in
navy blue for dinner, and grimaced when a large splash hit my lap.
Turning around to glare, I come face to face with one of the other
attorneys that was in the depositions. His name is Brian
Something-Or-Other. When Matt introduced me to him earlier today, his
eyes immediately dropped to my breasts and he looked at them
continually throughout the day.
    He pushes in toward
the bar, knocking into me again. “Might want to have a little
more care there,” I tell him testily.
    He turns to me with
bleary eyes, and yup… he’s drunk. Looking at me for a
moment as if he doesn’t recognize me, his eyes finally focus a
bit and a sleazy smile takes over his face. Right on cue, his eyes
drop to my cleavage, which is on half display in this dress, and then
back up at me. He licks his lips and says, “Hey… you’re
Matt’s paralegal, right? You were in the depositions today?”
    And I sat across
from you at dinner tonight for two hours, jerk. Good memory.
    “I’m a
lawyer,” I tell him firmly.
    “Right,”
he says, like a bell just went off in his head. He leans in toward
me, wobbling slightly, and pretends that this is just our little
secret. “You are one sexy fucking lawyer.”
    As if this couldn’t
get any worse, a little bit of spittle flies from his mouth and hits
me on my chest. I look down in distaste, taking the napkin from under
my wine glass and dabbing at my skin. This sudden movement apparently
lures his gaze back down to my boobs, and he openly leers at them.
    “They don’t
talk, you know,” I tell him sarcastically, and he finally has
the grace to look back up at me.
    He’s grinning
when he says, “Yeah, but I bet I could make them sing if you
gave me a go at them.”
    Okay, that’s
it. I’m calling it a night.
    Dropping the napkin
on the bar, I grab my purse and try to stand up from my barstool.
Apparently, Brian doesn’t understand that he’s just
royally pissed me off because he reaches a hand out, completely and
utterly oblivious to the fact that he’s in a public place, and
actually squeezes my right boob. “Come on, baby… let’s
go back to my room and get it on.”
    Ew, that’s
just fucking gross. I’m momentarily shocked that he actually
fondled me, but it lasts only a second. I knock his hand off and try
to push my way past him, but he has the gall to reach back out and
try to grab me again.
    All out of patience,
and apparently not concerned myself with the fact that we are in a
public place, I cock my arm back and get ready to punch him square in
the snout. Before I can let my hand fly though, another hand reaches
out and grabs Brian by the shoulder, slinging him away from me.
    Brian is too drunk
to