“It’s the only way I’ll agree to take on this party, which may or may not still end up being a disaster.” I put my hand out between us.

He heaves out a sigh and stares at my hand. He looks at me one more time. “Deal.” His hand slides into mine.

I take his hand and a small hum of electricity rushes up my arm. Ignoring my body’s physical reaction, I say, “I’ll let Bethaney know and I’ll be in touch.”

I turn and walk away, knowing I have my work cut out for me with both the party and in trying to turn around Andrew’s attitude about the good ol’ jolly of a man’s holiday.

Chapter Ten

Andrew

I look away from my computer screen and massage the bridge of my nose. I’ve been over and over this case about three times today and still can’t find anything that will help my client enforce the terms with their supplier. Another firm drafted the contract back when they signed it, and now it’s up to me to find a way to hold our client’s supplier’s feet to the fire, but when you had them sign a shitty contract with a thousand loopholes, that’s nearly impossible.

I glance at my watch and realize I was supposed to meet Finn for drinks down the street five minutes ago.

Shit.

Swiping my phone off my desk, I tap out a quick message to him.

Me: Sorry, running late. Be there in ten.

The message is marked read almost immediately, but he doesn’t bother texting back.

I gather my things, put on my coat, and race out of the building. Since we’re meeting right down the street, the halfway point between the buildings we work in, it doesn’t take me long to get there.

Finn sits at the back of the cocktail bar fashioned with an old-school law office vibe. He’s in one of two navy-blue velvet chairs situated across from each other, a black marble table between them. He gives me a small wave, and I walk over, hanging my coat on a hook mounted on the wall before I sit. Now that I’ve met Kenzie, the resemblance between them is clear. They have the same big lips and blue eyes, but whereas Kenzie is fair with blonde hair, Finn’s hair is light brown and his skin has a bit more of an olive tone.

“Sorry I’m late.” I ditch the suit jacket and hang it over my coat before loosening my tie and rolling up my shirtsleeves.

“Nothing I’m not used to.” He smirks.

And he’s not offended. He knows just as well as me how easy it is to get sucked into work and lose track of time when your mind is going down a train of thought on a case.