The Intern

29

It had been hours since my last meal, the booze intensifying the hunger. I got up from my desk, and as I was about to head toward the kitchen, I smelled something interesting in the hallway.

Chocolate?

The only place that could be coming from at this hour was the conference room.

Now clutching my drink, I headed in that direction, stopping in the doorway. Hannah stood at the head of the long oval table, the space in front of her littered with books and papers, folders and highlighters.

“What is that smell?” I eventually asked.

She jumped from the sound of my voice, her hand going straight to her chest, and she gasped, “Oh my God, you just scared the life out of me.”

I had known she didn’t notice me.

That was why I’d taken a few extra seconds to admire her before I spoke.

As she turned around, grabbing something off the chair behind her, she gave me a view of that f*****g ass again.

Goddamn it.

“When you heat up my homemade brownies, they turn extra gooey. That’s what you smell.” She nodded toward the other side of the room, where there was a kitchenette. “I used the microwave.” She set the container she’d taken from the chair onto the table and pushed it toward me. “Here, have one.” She licked a chunk of something off her thumb that must have accidentally dipped into the dessert. “Before you say it, I wasn’t getting distracted by my stomach or paying more attention to my hunger instead of this case. Chocolate actually helps me focus.”

That f*****g mouth.

That was my distraction.

Not what was coming out of it, but what it looked like.

The thickness of her lips. The way she licked them.

How she chewed the inside of her cheek when she feared what my response was going to be.

“Tell me how chocolate helps you focus.”

She pointed toward the container. “Try one. Trust me.”

“You want me to trust you?” I chuckled.

Trust wasn’t what had been built between us.

There was a brownie sitting in front of her, resting on a napkin, and she lifted it toward her mouth. “I didn’t poison them, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I wasn’t worried.

I just wanted one thing on my tongue right now.

It wasn’t chocolate.

It was her cunt.

Since I couldn’t elaborate, I took a brownie out of the container and chewed off the corner. The rich, fudgy consistency made my mouth water, the Nutella layer melting over my tongue.

“f**k …” I took another bite, shocked at how good it was. “This is incredible.” I even winked to add emphasis.

“I know.” She smiled. “Now, don’t you just want to scour over every piece of evidence and help me solve this mystery?”

“Ah, brownie points, quite literally.” I wiped my mouth. “Is that what you’re after, Hannah? Earning yourself some answers by feeding me?” I swallowed the rest of the dessert, not allowing my face to allude to the satisfaction I was feeling. “Or is this your way of testing me?”

Her grin faded. “Not at all. It’s just … I’m stuck.” She flattened her hands on the papers in front of her. “And I’m overwhelmed.”

“Not the answer I want to hear.”

“But an honest one.”

“Are we shooting for honest?” I gripped the back of the nearest chair. “This is one of Dominick’s high-profile clients. This is going to garner so much media attention; my face is going to be everywhere on the first day of the trial. I promised Kennedy a win. Do you think I can walk into the courtroom without an edge?”

The vein in my forehead was pulsing.

I could feel it as I snapped at her.

“No, I don’t think—”

“Then, what the f**k are you going to do about it aside from feeling sorry for yourself?” I lifted the back of the chair, the legs floating in the air, and I slammed it on the ground. “Are you going to sit here and pout about being overwhelmed? Are you going to eat an entire container of brownies? Or are you going to buckle down and figure out the f*****g loophole?”

Her hands folded in front of her, making it easy for me to see how badly they were shaking.

When she saw that I’d noticed, she hid them under the table, her chest rising like she was panting.

“I can tell you what I want to do, but that’s not going to change anything,” she whispered. Her eyes left mine, darting around the room before they settled on the table. “I’m not trying to bullshit you. I’m in over my head. I don’t know how to find this answer. Where to look. How to search.” Her hands lifted, and she picked up the edges of the nearest notebook. “I’m trying. I’m looking. I’m digging. I am …”

I hadn’t expected her to locate the answer immediately.

She was too raw, too much of a novice to know where to find it.

What I wanted was to see the desire on her face.

The drive.

The look of longing that was staring at me right now.

I walked over to her, stopping when we were inches apart, facing the evidence that she had spread out in front of her. “These are pieces. One”—I tapped the first bit of evidence my team had logged—“two, three,” I said, counting as my finger grazed each one. “I don’t want you to look at the individual pieces, Hannah.” My eyes eventually met hers. “I want you to look at the entire picture.”

The brownie had only intensified the vanilla scent coming off her body.

I took a long, deep inhale.

Fuck me.

I was close enough that I could touch her. That I could skim my fingers across her cheek, taking in the softness of her skin.

Would she slap me?

Or would we end up naked in the conference room?

She’s your intern, I repeated in my head, and a Dalton and your friends’ cousin.

I lifted one of the folders off the table and handed it to her. “You’re trying to find a reason why Kennedy would send that email.” I gestured toward her hands. “Did you ever consider why he wouldn’t?” I could see her brain rolling through the different options, her expression changing as she began to bounce around ideas. “That’s it. Now, you’re on the right path.”