If he really is the top corporate lawyer in the country, that kind of coincidence certainly seems more plausible than the alternative—him going to insane lengths to actually track me down.
Reality fully considered, I stop trying so hard to get away and step into one of the rows and away from the chaos. Girls fawn all over him, and the guys look ready to dive into an all-out bro-huddle. I don’t know where Caplin Hawkins gets his magnetism, but apparently, it doesn’t discriminate based on gender.
When a path finally opens up to the back of the room again, I make another attempt, sliding out in front of a girl who’s definitely not wearing a bra, and make my way up the stairs and out the door.
I pull on my jean jacket and lift the fall of my hair out of the collar before securing my books in my bag, zipping it up, and hoisting it up onto my shoulder.
When I shove out the main door of the building, the cooler fall air feels good on my overheated skin.
Headphones in place, I start my trek toward home. A fourteen-block journey with a ten-flight stair chaser at the end.
But I’m only a half a block into it when I feel the pressure of a hand on my shoulder.
I turn quickly, defensive hands up and at the ready.
And there he is.
Caplin fucking Hawkins with his face curled into a smile, standing directly in front of me.
“Oh geez,” I mutter. “It’s just you.”
His smile fucking grows like it’s on steroids. “You know, I’m used to getting a little bit of a different greeting.”
“From people you’ve stalked?” I raise a defiant brow. “Because I’d like to have a chat with them if that’s the case.”
“You say stalking so formally. It’s not like I hid outside in your bushes. I tracked you down. That’s it.”
My throat constricts. “Jesus. So, you really did all that stuff? That story is true?”
“You’re standing in front of me, aren’t you?” He shrugs, like he’s not completely in-fucking-sane. Like this is completely normal practice. “Although, I have to say, it was only an assumption that you would be in Hullum’s lecture today. There were way too many considerations to know for sure.”
Jesus. The confidence of this guy is mind-blowing.
“I thought you just made up that story for shock value…or a point or something. I didn’t think someone with your pedigree would actually go to this much trouble to track me down.”
“I’m a maker of opportunity, Ruby.”
“Ah, right,” I snort. “I guess you would know my name now.”
“It’s cute,” he says. “I like it. It suits you.” His eyes move to the strap of my bag before meeting my gaze again. “As does the bag. Tell your dog I said hi,” he reads the words etched above the front pocket and grins. “Also cute.”
I roll my eyes. The chicks in my class might fall for his cocky swagger, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let myself be included in that. “Look, I’m on my way home after a long day. Is there something specific you wanted from me?”
“Want to play naughty professor and frisky student?”
I hate that I actually snort at that question. I should be completely disgusted, but the charm on this guy. It’s like witchcraft or something. “Pretty sure that’s hiiighly inappropriate.”
He quirks an amused brow. “Handsy mailman and flirty housewife?”
I shake my head, and he feigns a frown. The bastard looks so sad, you’d think he just got the news that his puppy died. But even that sadness doesn’t stop him from tossing out one more.
“Dirty cop and desperate criminal?”
“You know, I see where you’re going with these, and I don’t think any of them are going to work. Actually,” I add, “I’m certain none of them will work.”
He frowns even harder, considering my words in a way that makes it seem like he maybe doesn’t hear them often—or ever—and purses his lips. “Okay. How about boss and assistant?”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously. With the way this conversation was going previously, it seems naïve to assume he’s actually being serious now. “No adjectives this time?”
“Nope. Just a regular boring boss and, hopefully, a something other than a flighty assistant who leaves work early for margs in SoHo.”
My nose scrunches up of its own accord. “Margs in SoHo? Should I know what you’re talking about?”
He grins. “No, but you should say yes to working with me.”
My jaw goes unhinged. “Are you really offering me a job right now?”
“Sure seems like it.”
“Five seconds after propositioning me for kinky sex…repeatedly.”
He shrugs, his well-fitted suit jacket pulling just a hint at the thick muscles of his shoulders. “Seems as good a time as any.”
I cross my arms over my chest and settle into one hip. He believes so staunchly in his wonky logic that I have to challenge physically as well as rationally. “Does it really, though? Because I can think of an awful lot of better times.”
His smile stays firm even as he shakes his head. “Do you want the job or not?”
I pause to gather my thoughts, despite having already made a decision. Working for this guy has trouble and a half written all over it. Still, he’s just got something about him that makes it more difficult than usual to say no. “I don’t…I don’t really think I have time.”
“If you think you’re busy during law school, you’re in for a rude awakening when you start practicing law.”
I scowl. “It’s not just school. I have a job too.”
“Where?” he asks, challenging me. “Because I know you don’t really work at the library now.”
I balk. There’s a reason I use a pseudonym for the voice-over work I do narrating romance novels. I’m not ashamed of it, but it conflicts with the other part of my life—the lawyer part. Keeping the two separate from each other has always been imperative. But telling Caplin Hawkins about all of that seems like a major conflict of interest.
“I’d rather not say.”
“A job you’d like to keep secret?” he hems. “Are you a high-priced escort?”
“Yes. This conversation alone will cost you one billion dollars.”
He smirks, and my panties dissolve in a comedic poof. “A steep price, doll. But I have a sneaking suspicion you’d actually be worth it.”
Unexpectedly, I find myself reconsidering the possibility of working for him. It would look good on my resume, that’s for sure. I mean, even Professor Hullum was waxing poetic about Caplin’s career achievements, and that man doesn’t wax poetic about anything but the actual law.
I hold my breath for a second and a half, but just when I’m ready to let it out—ready to take a dive and give this reckless idea a chance—a woman steps up beside me and starts talking to Caplin like I’m not even there.
“Oh my God, Cap! I haven’t seen you in forever.”
He takes a minute to move his eyes from me to her, but when he does, and she latches on to the eye contact like a leech, his reaction is almost comical. I don’t imagine he ever finds himself out of sorts, but right now, he looks about as prepared to deal with the two of us as a chicken with its head cut off.