Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 104448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
He continued to talk through various suggestions until I realized I was too busy admiring his legal competence to understand the complexities he was trying to explain.
I held up a hand. “Can I just hire you to make this happen? Maybe work with my existing firm to figure out the best way?”
He dipped his chin. “Of course. I’d love to help. I can have my assistant reach out to Kenji.”
I took a deep breath. “Good. Thank you. I’ll feel better if I sever that final connection.”
Tully tilted his head at me. “Have your attorneys been working on a new estate plan now that you’ve decided to keep Lellie? Remember, I’m happy to look over anything they come up with, if you want. Trusts are my specialty.”
I saw this unexpected opening and seized it.
“They’re working on it, but actually… I really wish there was a trusts and estates attorney in Majestic. It would be much easier to work with someone local instead of my old firm in New York.”
I tried to play it cool.
It didn’t work.
“You know,” I continued, as if just now thinking of the idea. “You should consider moving there. It’s a great place to live, and there’s a noticeable lack of trusts and estates attorneys in town.”
Tully’s eyes were calm, a glass-smooth Gulf on a hot summer’s day, but his lip twitched. “You don’t say.”
“And Majestic is growing,” I said, clearing my throat. “With the multiyear deal to bring in AdventureSmash races, young people are coming in for work and outdoor adventure. The town is getting a ton of national attention because of it.”
“Mm. That’s great,” he said. “For all of you.”
“And if you worked in Majestic, you could spend your days helping hot cowboys instead of Wall Street bros like that guy.” I thumbed over my shoulder toward the reception area.
“That guy?” His forehead crinkled. “Oh, you mean Miles?”
“Miles?” I scoffed as if the name was disgusting. Because it was. Who named their child after a unit of measurement?
“Miles Dumas is the heir of one of the largest oil companies in Texas,” he explained. His grin widened. “If you’re trying to convince me I’d enjoy writing wills for ranch hands and sugar beet farmers more than working on trusts and endowments for a billionaire, you’re facing an uphill battle.”
I opened my mouth to spout off about the number of billionaire clients he’d sign his first day in Majestic, but then I snapped my mouth closed. That wasn’t how I wanted to convince him. And I wasn’t allowed to share that information with him.
Yet.
Because there was one condition under which the Billionaire Brotherhood could reveal our true wealth and the story behind it, and that was if and when we found our life partner.
I was becoming more and more confident that I’d found mine, but Tully’s easy smile suggested he wasn’t having nearly as hard a time saying goodbye as I was.
“So Miles is your client?” I asked.
“Mmm. Looks like it.” Tully leaned back in his chair with an abstracted little smile on his face, his gaze tracking Lellie as she tottered over to the floor-length window and babbled at herself in the reflective surface. “He’s the new client I was telling you about. The one Orris handed me to distract me from the Scott business and the fact that I’m not with Lellie anymore,” he said wryly.
“And will he?” I demanded. The words came out rougher than I’d meant.
Tully’s gaze shot to mine. “What?”
“Will this Miles guy keep you too distracted to think about those things?”
To think about me?
“Obviously not.” Tully scowled now. “You know I adore Lellie. I’m going to miss her terribly. But you said you’d fly me back to Majestic in a couple of weeks, didn’t you? You said… you said it didn’t have to be goodbye—”
“That guy is interested in you,” I said flatly. “What I want to know is whether you’re interested in him, too.”
To my surprise, Tully didn’t pretend to misunderstand what I was saying. He didn’t deflect with some excuse about Miles not being interested. Instead, he gaped at me, lips parted, as an angry flush climbed up from the crisp collar of his shirt, over his neck, to suffuse his cheeks. His eyes positively flashed with temper.
“Are you… are you f-flipping kidding me?” he spluttered. He darted a look at Lellie, checking to confirm that she was still engrossed in her own reflection, and in two seconds flat, he was around the desk, standing between my knees, his finger jabbing my chest accusingly just as he’d done a few days before.
“I was in your bed last night, Devon McKay,” he hissed. Poke. “And the night before that, and the night before that, and the mother-flipping night before that.” Poke. “Did you actually come into my office and try to insinuate that I’m sizing up replacements? Huh?” Poke. “Want to know how many men I’ve actually dated in the last two years, Dev? None. None. Because you’re not the only one who knew nothing could be better than our hookup two years ago. I tried to forget. I tried being with other guys. It didn’t work. I never forgot you. And I…”