grinning at him like a ‘fucking’idiot?
He pulled up outside of a small Taqueria in the South End. There was a chalkboard menu on the outside; I wiped the stupid smile off, put on my game face, and scrutinized it.
“What do you normally get?” I asked as we walked into the tiny restaurant.
“Shredded beef,” Walker said. “Extra guacamole and hot sauce.”
“I’ll have the same,” I told the guy behind the counter.
“Can we have beer?” Walker asked. He almost sounded like he was pleading.
“You can,” I said. “I’ll just fall asleep if I do.”
“That’d go over well with David,” Walker said, grabbing two beers out of the fridge and selecting a small table for us in the corner. He opened one of the beers and put in front of me.
“I said no,” I said, and took a sip from it anyway.
“Apparently, no doesn’t always mean no with you tricky lawyer types,” Walker said. As if anyone in the whole history of the world had said no to him before.
“Yes it does,” I said, and drank some more.
He scoffed at me. “Stop playing games, Nicole,” he said, “or I’ll start thinking you’re flirting with me.”
“Rest assured, I’m not flirting,” I said, even though I totally was. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only female you’ve ever met who hasn’t. I’m sure it’ll take some getting used to.” He smiled darkly at me and my insides twisted. Easy girl, I thought. He’s too hot for you to handle. Plus, he’s so totally your client.
Just then the waiter brought over our burritos, and I worried briefly about how I was going to eat something so enormous in front of such a hot guy. But he started eating his meal unselfconsciously — of course he did, what on earth does he have to feel self-conscious about? — And my stomach growled again, viciously, so I went ahead and dug in.
“I’d talk to you, and argue that you were clearly flirting with me, but my mouth is too full,” Walker said, from behind a large bite.
“Eating something this messy in front of you is the opposite of flirting,” I said, my mouth full. We both laughed and kept eating. “This is freakin’ delicious,” I said, grabbing some chips and eating them, too. “My burrito place is better, but this deserves a silver medal.”
“There is no way your’s is better,” Walker said, through a full mouth. “This is it. Burrito nirvana.”
“Mine’s in Cambridge. And it’s the bomb.”
“We’ll go later this week, if I’m not in jail. I’ll treat my hot babysitter to a taste test,” Walker said, and my stomach fluttered in spite of all my better instincts and all the food weighing it down. Broden Walker just called me hot, I thought, dreamily.
I was appropriately inappropriately excited.
“How long is this going to take tonight?” he asked.
I sat back for a second, taking an unwelcome break from my plate. “We don’t need anything substantive for the arraignment tomorrow. We just need your plea, which is going to be not guilty to all counts, right?” I asked, taking another unladylike swig of beer. He nodded.
“So, we don’t have to do much tonight. Just tell me about you and your company. With respect to the amount of discovery we’re going to have to do as we move forward, I know it’s going to be a lot, but other than that I don’t know what to expect at this point. We’re just going to take it one day at a time.”
“I’m the one who doesn’t know what to fucking expect,” Walker said, and the playful tone was gone from his voice. He looked tired and beaten again all of a sudden, like the tiredness and sadness had just been crouching inside, waiting to take over. “I actually can’t believe that this is happening to me. I can’t believe they’re doing this to me.” He looked around the empty restaurant, back over his shoulder, probably wary of reporters. “I haven’t accepted it. I think I might be in shock, or something.”
I looked at him with sympathy. His flirting, his
He pulled up outside of a small Taqueria in the South End. There was a chalkboard menu on the outside; I wiped the stupid smile off, put on my game face, and scrutinized it.
“What do you normally get?” I asked as we walked into the tiny restaurant.
“Shredded beef,” Walker said. “Extra guacamole and hot sauce.”
“I’ll have the same,” I told the guy behind the counter.
“Can we have beer?” Walker asked. He almost sounded like he was pleading.
“You can,” I said. “I’ll just fall asleep if I do.”
“That’d go over well with David,” Walker said, grabbing two beers out of the fridge and selecting a small table for us in the corner. He opened one of the beers and put in front of me.
“I said no,” I said, and took a sip from it anyway.
“Apparently, no doesn’t always mean no with you tricky lawyer types,” Walker said. As if anyone in the whole history of the world had said no to him before.
“Yes it does,” I said, and drank some more.
He scoffed at me. “Stop playing games, Nicole,” he said, “or I’ll start thinking you’re flirting with me.”
“Rest assured, I’m not flirting,” I said, even though I totally was. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only female you’ve ever met who hasn’t. I’m sure it’ll take some getting used to.” He smiled darkly at me and my insides twisted. Easy girl, I thought. He’s too hot for you to handle. Plus, he’s so totally your client.
Just then the waiter brought over our burritos, and I worried briefly about how I was going to eat something so enormous in front of such a hot guy. But he started eating his meal unselfconsciously — of course he did, what on earth does he have to feel self-conscious about? — And my stomach growled again, viciously, so I went ahead and dug in.
“I’d talk to you, and argue that you were clearly flirting with me, but my mouth is too full,” Walker said, from behind a large bite.
“Eating something this messy in front of you is the opposite of flirting,” I said, my mouth full. We both laughed and kept eating. “This is freakin’ delicious,” I said, grabbing some chips and eating them, too. “My burrito place is better, but this deserves a silver medal.”
“There is no way your’s is better,” Walker said, through a full mouth. “This is it. Burrito nirvana.”
“Mine’s in Cambridge. And it’s the bomb.”
“We’ll go later this week, if I’m not in jail. I’ll treat my hot babysitter to a taste test,” Walker said, and my stomach fluttered in spite of all my better instincts and all the food weighing it down. Broden Walker just called me hot, I thought, dreamily.
I was appropriately inappropriately excited.
“How long is this going to take tonight?” he asked.
I sat back for a second, taking an unwelcome break from my plate. “We don’t need anything substantive for the arraignment tomorrow. We just need your plea, which is going to be not guilty to all counts, right?” I asked, taking another unladylike swig of beer. He nodded.
“So, we don’t have to do much tonight. Just tell me about you and your company. With respect to the amount of discovery we’re going to have to do as we move forward, I know it’s going to be a lot, but other than that I don’t know what to expect at this point. We’re just going to take it one day at a time.”
“I’m the one who doesn’t know what to fucking expect,” Walker said, and the playful tone was gone from his voice. He looked tired and beaten again all of a sudden, like the tiredness and sadness had just been crouching inside, waiting to take over. “I actually can’t believe that this is happening to me. I can’t believe they’re doing this to me.” He looked around the empty restaurant, back over his shoulder, probably wary of reporters. “I haven’t accepted it. I think I might be in shock, or something.”
I looked at him with sympathy. His flirting, his
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