Free Object Me: A Bad Boy Lawyer Romance by Roxy Sinclaire

the twentieth floor as though I owned it because I did. Everyone did their best to appear busy as I walked by. Usually their reaction gave me a sense of power. In that moment though, the need to confront the cause of my irritation superseded every other emotion.
    My father had his ass planted on my desk conducting a phone call when I walked through my office door.
    “Alright. Thanks for the notice.” He spoke into his Bluetooth phone piece. “The Jr. just walked in. Let me know if you find out any other information.”
    Pete touched the device to end the call.
    “Get off of my desk.” I commanded.
    “Whoa, son. Calm down.” he said with a half-smile. “Is someone a little frustrated?”
    His arrogance grated against me like concrete.
    “I have a few ladies on speed dial that can turn that frown upside down.” He teased.
    “I don’t need anything from you, except an apology.” I demanded.
    His laughter rang out through the room and pissed me off even more.
    “You must be on drugs.” Pete menaced. “I’m not apologizing to you.”
    “The apology is not for me. You need to speak with Yvette.”
    My father’s eyebrows squiggled.
    “Yvette?” he questioned as if he had never known a person with such a name.
    “The new associate.” I prodded. My temper flared at his pretended ignorance.
    “Oh. You mean Jelly.” He snapped his fingers as though he could finally picture her.
    “I thought you called her Gumdrop?”
    “Yea.” he said dawning a devilish smile. “Gumdrop to her face, but Jelly when she walks away. When I see that ass … ” he grunted.
    “Never mind. Keep your apology.”
    “Stop being so emotional.” Pete snapped. “I’ve never seen you so intense over a piece of ass.”
    I swiped my hand through the air to dismiss his comment.
    “Why are you here?” I spat out. This conversation and his presence, were all giving me a headache. My father was not going to cooperate so there was no reason to even discuss it. Whatever feelings or non-feelings that I have or don’t have for Yvette, I would have to deal with on my own time.
    “It’s the Menory case.”
    This stupid case had become more and more convoluted at every turn. It was supposed to be simple. It had been anything but simple.
    “What about it?” I sighed taking a deep breath.
    My father followed me over to a conference table and chairs.
    “There have been some new developments.” he answered as he clasped his hands and leaned back in the chair.
    “Developments like what?” I inquired, picking up a folder I had left there. Everything was always dramatic with my father. His flair and finesse dazzled juries and swayed opinions, but made it difficult as hell to get a straight answer from him.
    “There are questions surrounding the validity of Sherry Hunter’s story.”
    “The woman who initiated the case, Sherry? The wife of Brandon Hunter?” I threw the random folder to the table and stood. “What the fuck happened?”
    I swear that I thought I saw him smirk but it was gone just as quickly.
    “The one and the same.” he confirmed. “One of the nurses kept a backup record of medication and procedures that she had provided for her patients.” he said plainly. “Her records contradict the amount of medication that was found in Brandon’s system and on the carts provided by the hospital.”
    “She’s lying.”
    “The supervising nurse and the medication log back up her story.” my dad confirmed.
    “That doesn’t mean that there was foul play.” I insisted.
    “It doesn’t mean that there wasn’t either.” he remarked. “This information is enough to cause reasonable doubt amongst the jury and topple all the cases like a set of dominoes.”
    He stood as though everything had been explained, as though our conversation was over.
    “So what does that mean for the case?” I asked while walking behind him toward the door.
    He turned to me, his lips folded and eyes flat.
    “We lose.” Pete said the two words that