Read Online The Right Time by Delaney Diamond - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Delaney Diamond
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a note to herself on a pad on the counter. “You okay, sweetie?”
“Sure.”
Her mother tilted her head to the side. Her gaze held concern. “When you first came in, I thought you seemed a little off. It’s not because of Keith, is it? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have butted in.”
“He came to you. You didn’t butt in.” Sophie slipped her arm around her mother and squeezed. “I’m fine. Keith and I are fine.”
If she seemed off, it had less to do with Keith and more to do with a certain civil attorney.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. By the way, he invited me to a hoity-toity cocktail party his firm is having. And he invited me to join him in Chicago in a few weeks to meet his parents.” He’d never done anything like that before.
“That’s good, right?” her mother asked.
“It is.” Keith was really kicking up his attention now that he recognized he could lose her.
“Then why don’t you look more excited?”
Because she couldn’t stop thinking about Ransom. A teeny tiny part of her had hoped he would reach out to her, but clearly she’d read more into their time together than was realistic. He’d offered her attention and affection when she needed it most, so it was only natural to get a little attached. She fully expected the heaviness of disappointment and regret in her stomach to disappear soon. Hopefully.
“I am excited. This is a new chapter for me and Keith, and…I’m going to hope for the best.”
And pretend that every time she closed her eyes, she didn’t see Ransom’s face or remember the way he’d so expertly caressed each inch of her body until she shivered in his arms. Pretend she didn’t long to see his roguish smile, twin dimples, and a muscular body that made her weak in the knees.
Chapter Nine
Ransom walked into the offices of Abraham, McKenzie & Wong on Monday morning, his strides long, steps sure. He’d spent the weekend poring over a case he hoped would soon be coming to an end. He rolled the taut muscles of his aching neck and shoulders, but he was certain the brief he’d stayed up until three in the morning to prepare would sway the judge in their favor and finally bring this case to a close.
Ransom was known in the world of civil litigation as The Shark, a nickname that encapsulated his personal work ethic and cutthroat reputation. He worked hard to win his cases, spending long hours combing through documents, motions, and answers to interrogatories with an unparalleled attention to detail. He was well respected by the junior associates working under him, and they all left his tutelage with a better understanding of the law and having grown as attorneys.
Sympathy tended to be stacked in favor of the plaintiffs, while his clients were often seen as greedy, self-indulgent corporations out to heap destruction on consumers and the world at large. The current case was no different, involving a manufacturer of a children’s line of electronic toys whose owner he’d wooed over drinks at the Chicago Yacht Club, but he was certain the judge would rule in his favor at the hearing.
Walking down the hall to his office, he nodded and greeted the other attorneys diligent enough to show up as early as he did.
Near the end of the hall, he peeked into his assistant’s office—one of the few members of the support staff who arrived early. She came early and left early, unless needed.
She looked up from searching a drawer in the large file cabinet in her office.
Lena was an older woman in her late forties or early fifties—he wasn’t sure which—with reddish-brown skin. She had worked for the firm for many years and knew all the politicking behind the scenes, guarded a secret better than a first-time mother did a premature newborn, and at times he was absolutely certain she was clairvoyant, with her ability to anticipate his needs and foretell of changes coming down from the managing partners.
“Good morning,” she said, adjusting her round-framed glasses,
“Sure.”
Her mother tilted her head to the side. Her gaze held concern. “When you first came in, I thought you seemed a little off. It’s not because of Keith, is it? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have butted in.”
“He came to you. You didn’t butt in.” Sophie slipped her arm around her mother and squeezed. “I’m fine. Keith and I are fine.”
If she seemed off, it had less to do with Keith and more to do with a certain civil attorney.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. By the way, he invited me to a hoity-toity cocktail party his firm is having. And he invited me to join him in Chicago in a few weeks to meet his parents.” He’d never done anything like that before.
“That’s good, right?” her mother asked.
“It is.” Keith was really kicking up his attention now that he recognized he could lose her.
“Then why don’t you look more excited?”
Because she couldn’t stop thinking about Ransom. A teeny tiny part of her had hoped he would reach out to her, but clearly she’d read more into their time together than was realistic. He’d offered her attention and affection when she needed it most, so it was only natural to get a little attached. She fully expected the heaviness of disappointment and regret in her stomach to disappear soon. Hopefully.
“I am excited. This is a new chapter for me and Keith, and…I’m going to hope for the best.”
And pretend that every time she closed her eyes, she didn’t see Ransom’s face or remember the way he’d so expertly caressed each inch of her body until she shivered in his arms. Pretend she didn’t long to see his roguish smile, twin dimples, and a muscular body that made her weak in the knees.
Chapter Nine
Ransom walked into the offices of Abraham, McKenzie & Wong on Monday morning, his strides long, steps sure. He’d spent the weekend poring over a case he hoped would soon be coming to an end. He rolled the taut muscles of his aching neck and shoulders, but he was certain the brief he’d stayed up until three in the morning to prepare would sway the judge in their favor and finally bring this case to a close.
Ransom was known in the world of civil litigation as The Shark, a nickname that encapsulated his personal work ethic and cutthroat reputation. He worked hard to win his cases, spending long hours combing through documents, motions, and answers to interrogatories with an unparalleled attention to detail. He was well respected by the junior associates working under him, and they all left his tutelage with a better understanding of the law and having grown as attorneys.
Sympathy tended to be stacked in favor of the plaintiffs, while his clients were often seen as greedy, self-indulgent corporations out to heap destruction on consumers and the world at large. The current case was no different, involving a manufacturer of a children’s line of electronic toys whose owner he’d wooed over drinks at the Chicago Yacht Club, but he was certain the judge would rule in his favor at the hearing.
Walking down the hall to his office, he nodded and greeted the other attorneys diligent enough to show up as early as he did.
Near the end of the hall, he peeked into his assistant’s office—one of the few members of the support staff who arrived early. She came early and left early, unless needed.
She looked up from searching a drawer in the large file cabinet in her office.
Lena was an older woman in her late forties or early fifties—he wasn’t sure which—with reddish-brown skin. She had worked for the firm for many years and knew all the politicking behind the scenes, guarded a secret better than a first-time mother did a premature newborn, and at times he was absolutely certain she was clairvoyant, with her ability to anticipate his needs and foretell of changes coming down from the managing partners.
“Good morning,” she said, adjusting her round-framed glasses,
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