Chapter 2 : Clash of Wills

*Amelia*

I stepped into the well-lit reception area and was surprised by how cozy it was compared to some of the others in the courthouse. There was an assistant’s desk sitting clear and uncluttered other than a calendar, computer, and notepad. There were two comfortable-looking armchairs with a small coffee table between them that held an array of magazines. The adjacent wall had a bookcase full of legal books and crime novels. The walls were painted in a deep shade of green and adorned with paintings and various artwork on the available space on the opposite wall.

"How can I help you?" a beautiful woman with silky blonde hair styled into an effortless twist asked me. Her brown eyes sparkled as she looked up to welcome me, a warm smile gracing her lips.

I almost jumped because I was lost in thought, but I recovered quickly and replied, "Hello, I'd like to see Mr. Chase, please."

The woman glanced down at the calendar, no doubt checking his appointments. She looked back up and asked, "Name, please?"

"I'm not on the schedule," I said, sheepishly, "But it's very important I speak with him at his soonest available convenience."

I watched her steel herself for an argument, then she told me, "You'll have to send him an email to get on the meeting schedule. We don't do walk-ins here. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

I had to give it to her, her customer service skills were next level. I was only able to tell she was annoyed from years of reading body language as a lawyer. Everyone had a tell. Every time I was persistent, her nostrils flared and the wrinkle between her eyebrows got a little bit deeper.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but Mr. Chase doesn't see anyone unless they have an appointment," the stunning assistant told me.

I tried not to roll my eyes and spoke firmly and clearly, "I understand how busy he is, but this is pertinent to a very high-profile case he's taken on. It will only take a few moments. Just tell him it's Amelia Hartley, and I want to speak to him about MID."

The frustration was written all over the assistant's face, and she stood and rounded her desk, "Look, Ms. Hartley. I can give you his email address, but that's it. You can't just walk in here and say you want to talk to him. Do you know how many people do that in a day? If I let every Tom, Dick, and Harry ignore the parameters set by Mr. Chase, he wouldn't ever get anything done. This office would be a parade of people in and out all day long."

Despite my frustration, I had to respect that she was just doing her job. "I understand," I said softly, accepting the card she had written his email address on.

I was prepared to sit outside the reception door and wait to accost him when he left for the day. But then, something unexpected happened; the door to Adrian's office opened, and there he was leaning against the doorframe.

He wore a charcoal gray suit that fit him like a glove, complemented by a pristine white shirt and black tie. His jet-black hair was slicked back in an immaculate style more akin to a fashion model than that of a lawyer. With intense brown eyes, he glanced from his assistant to me before pursing his lips and setting his square jaw in determination. I furrowed my brow and squared my shoulders in response.

"Ms. Hartley," he said with a hint of surprise in his voice, "To what do I owe the pleasure? Did you come to spill ink all over my shirt again? Or perhaps you want a chance to finish your voyeur session?"

I blushed intensely and cast my gaze toward his assistant to see if she had reacted to his accusations, but she was being professional and pretending not to be listening, “Actually, Mr. Chase,” I managed to mumble, then quickly recovered my senses, “There is something far more important I need to discuss with you about a case.”

He nodded and gestured for me to follow him into his office. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was how breathtakingly elegant the space was. There was a marble floor with plush black leather furniture. There were lush velvet curtains that hung around the windows and golden accents that glimmered in the light of the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. On either side of Adrian's massive mahogany desk were two imposing bookshelves filled with books on law, politics, and philosophy.

"Let's not beat around the bush, Ms. Hartley. Which case would you like to talk about?" he asked.

I cleared my throat, "I think you already know the answer to that, Mr. Chase. I'm here to talk about MID."

He nodded and motioned for me to sit down. I ignored him and remained standing.

He cocked an eyebrow as he asked, "What makes you think you have information that I don't already have access to?"

His voice was calm and measured as his eyes scanned my face. The longer I thought about my answer, the more pissed off I became. How dare he condescend to me.

"I have inside sources that you don't. I've been working on building a case against them since I graduated from law school. There's no way you know more than me in the short amount of time you've been working on it," I said with a confidence I didn't know I had.

Adrian sized me up with an unreadable expression on his face, "I'm not interested in having a liability working next to me on a case of this magnitude. You can see yourself out."

He dismissed me with a flick of his wrist. The room got twenty degrees warmer, and my heart pumped ice instead of blood through my veins. I didn't walk down here for him to talk to me like a child, "You lost the Millington case because you're cocky and refuse to believe that there are lawyers that are smarter than you. Are you going to blow this one, too?"

The room seemed to grow smaller as Adrian leaned back in his chair, his piercing gray eyes boring into mine, "Is that so, Ms. Hartley? Please educate me on how I could improve and be a better lawyer."

I took a deep breath and leaned forward, matching his intense stare, "You could start by being less dismissive and listening to the team you hire. You could stop acting like you're the only person that's ever graduated from law school and start collaborating with others. You could stop letting your ego get in the way of justice."

I could see his jaw clenching and his muscles tensing up as I spoke. Watching his jaw muscles work made my knees feel weak, but I tried to hide the attraction I was feeling to him. He pushed his chair back and stood up, closing the distance between the two of us.

"Mr. Chase," I said as I stepped back away from him, scared of what I'd do if he was within touching distance, "You could have all the resources in the world and still lose this case just like you lost the Millington case. It was open and shut, and you pissed away everything because you didn't elaborate on half of the circumstantial evidence. You refused to believe the jury would have reasonable doubt, and you fucked yourself."

Adrian's breath was hot as he towered over me, but I refused to back down. "I didn't come down here to fight with you, Mr. Chase. I came down here to offer my help. But if you don't want it, that's fine. I'll find someone else to work with," I said, turning to leave.

His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. I turned back to face him, and his eyes were filled with a mixture of anger and something else I couldn't quite identify. He began tracing slow circles on my wrist with his thumb, and it was terribly distracting.

"You have a lot of nerve coming in here and trying to tell me how to do my job," he growled.

I pulled my wrist out of his grip, feeling the heat from his touch spread through my body and concentrate between my thighs.

"You have a lot of nerve dismissing me without even hearing what I have to say," I shot back, feeling a surge of adrenaline.

We stood there for a few moments, eyeing each other up and down. I could feel the tension crackling between us. I wondered what it would be like to kiss him, to feel his strong arms around me.

But then he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. “You think that having you in my team will make a difference?”

I nodded firmly. “I am only honest. You might not care if you lose this case, it will hurt your ego but you will move on. But it will increase your chances to win if I am here, if you have someone like me that is invested by heart to make them go down.”

He seemed to look right into my soul, and I almost stopped breathing until he finally spoke. "Fine. You can work on the case with me. But if you mess up, it's on your head."

Shocked by his sudden agreement, I take a step back and nervously smooth my hands over my skirt, "That's all I've wanted from the start."

He gave me a curt nod and walked back to his desk, leaving me standing there, heart racing. Without looking up from the paper he was writing on, he said, "Stop by and let Evelyn know to schedule a meeting for the two of us. We have a lot to go over if you're going to work with me."

I nodded, even though I knew he couldn't see me, and turned to walk out of his office. As I opened the door, I hesitated, wondering if I should say something else, but decided against it. I had already pushed my luck with him enough for one day.

I stopped by the receptionist's desk and said, "Mr. Chase would like a meeting to be scheduled for the two of us tomorrow."

Evelyn smiled politely, and said, "Of course. Let me see what he has open, and you can pick from those times. He has nine-thirty tomorrow morning, eleven-thirty tomorrow morning, and three-thirty tomorrow afternoon."

I thanked her and chose the eleven-thirty slot. Walking away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of both excitement and apprehension. I made my way down the hallway, my mind was swirling with thoughts of Adrian Chase. He was a force to be reckoned with, that much was clear. But there was something about him that drew me in, something that made me want to unravel all the layers and see what was underneath.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. This wasn't the time or the place for that kind of thinking. I needed to focus on the case, on helping Adrian win. I walked back to my office with a renewed sense of purpose.

I sat down and logged into my computer so I could go over case notes for a wrongful injury case I was working on. It was a complicated case, involving a man who had suffered serious physical and emotional injuries due to the negligence of his employer. Michael gave me the lead on the case, and I spent weeks researching and gathering evidence.

I wrote up a detailed outline of the case, including all the relevant information I had collected so far. I also included my theories on how we could best argue this case in court, as well as potential avenues for presenting witnesses and other evidence. After finishing up my research, I printed out a copy of my notes and packed them into my briefcase so Michael could sign off on them tomorrow.

I glanced at the clock and realized I'd worked through lunch for the third time this week. I groaned and stood up to stretch my cramped back muscles. I needed fresh air and a change of scenery, so I decided to call it a day. I walked out of the courthouse and toward a street that always had an amazing Thai food truck.

As I walked, the sounds of the bustling capital came alive around me. The air smelled like car exhaust, street food, and flowers that were growing along the sidewalk. The closer I got to my destination, the louder my stomach grumbled. When I was within eyesight, though, I stopped in my tracks. The first person in line at the food truck was none other than Adrian Chase. There was no way I was going to wait in line beside him and risk him canceling our meeting and my involvement in the case, so I turned around and headed home instead.