Chapter One
William Madden walked up the steps to his old mate's house with trepidation. Hank Summers had approached him that afternoon with a favor and while normally Hank asking him favors was fine, this one was making him uneasy.
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"I need a favor, Will," Hank said as he sat across from Will on the leather chair in his friend's office.
Will raised a brow, "All right. This is pretty serious if you're tearing yourself away from your office upstairs and not just calling me for it."
Hank nodded, "Yeah, it is serious. Buffy's coming home."
Will blinked. "Okay, and that means?"
"I want you to give her a job."
Will blinked again. "What?"
"She's coming home to attend Boston College. She hated it over in
California and wanted to come back home. She's second year in pre-law."
Will nodded slowly, "I see."
"I'd give her a job with me, but you know how it is with favoritism and
such."
"Like it wouldn't be favoritism that I'm giving my mate's daughter a job?"
"Not as much as if I gave it to my daughter. You can be objective about
things; I wouldn't be able to be objective with her."
Will smiled, "Are you saying I'd be hard on her?"
Hank chuckled, "Maybe. But, she needs to learn what's it's like to work in
the field and I want to give her a hands on experience."
"I don't know Hank, I'm not sure if there's a position available to give to
her—"
"Look, I'm not telling you to give her a full time, forty hour position here.
I'm asking for a few days out of the week and give her something small if
you want at first to see how she does. Have her work with your assistant—"
"With Dru?" Will shook his head, "No. Buffy's a nice girl and Dru is a
barracuda."
Hank grinned.
Will glared at him, "We're not talking about Dru."
"Well, have you?"
"NO. Nor do I care to. She's just my assistant and I do not mix business with pleasure. This is a reputable law firm and my partners would have my head. You know what that's like having one of your own."
Hank cleared his throat. "Of course. So, will you?"
Will sighed heavily. "All right. I'll give her a job."
"Great. Come over tonight so you can tell her yourself. If I tell her, she'll think I'm interfering."
"She's not stupid, she's going to know."
"Yes, but she won't say no to you," Hank winked and got up. "Thanks buddy."
"Sure thing. You owe me one."
"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. She's not the same flaky teenager she used to be. She's grown up quite a bit."
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William and Hank had been friends for five years. Together, they worked in a twenty story building in downtown Boston. Hank had been part of McDonald, Morgan and Summers, P.C., which resided on the eighth floor of the building for seventeen years, and William had been part of Pryce, O'Connor & Madden, P.C.—on the seventh floor--for the past four years, having worked in other firms before. It was during his first case that he'd met Hank and the two had become fast friends. Hank was older by seven years to Will's thirty-five. Hank was more than just a friend to him, he was also a mentor of sorts, the older man having given William all the advice he'd needed to make partner in a short amount of time—two years—and had thrown him a congratulatory party when he'd made it.
William met Buffy, Hank's only child, when she had turned sixteen. He
remembered meeting the audacious and . . . bouncy girl and thinking that it
was probably a good thing she was beautiful because she hadn't seemed to
have too much going on upstairs.
He was wrong.
Buffy had graduated with honors and had been accepted to a prestigious
school in California, having decided she wanted to join in the footsteps of
her father and become a lawyer. Her grades had to have been good to be
accepted to BC for the upcoming fall semester, and Will was curious to see
just how much Buffy had grown, hoping that she had matured enough to
work with him at the firm. This dinner Joyce, Hank's wife, was having for
them would make or break Buffy and he sincerely did not want to be the
one to tell Hank his daughter would not fit in at his firm.
Knocking on the door, Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes to relax
himself just before the door flung open and there stood the most beautiful
girl he'd ever seen. She'd grown. She seemed taller somehow, though it
could have been the shoes. Her hair was no longer in school girl pony tails
that had been the fashion, but long and flowing down around her shoulders
in waves. It was darker, golden, instead of platinum and instead of pounds
of makeup; she wore her make up light and natural. She smiled at him, her
green eyes sparkling.
"Buffy?" he nearly squeaked out.
"Hello, William." Even her voice had changed. She didn't talk like an air
head; she spoke in a deeper, mature tone. Course, it was only two words,
but still. She stood aside and his eyes made the path down her slender
body. He tore his eyes away from her and met her eyes.
"Buffy, you've grown up so much," he finally said.
"Thanks. Why don't you come in? Dinner is almost ready. Would you like
anything to drink?"
"I – uh—do you have any beer?"
"I believe we do. Would you like me to take your coat?"
He blinked, "My God, you've grown up."
She chuckled, "You said that already."
"William! How good to see you," Joyce said, coming into the room, and
giving him a peck on the cheek. "Haven't seen you in quite a while, how are
you?"
William followed Buffy out of the corner of his eye, feeling quite unable to
tear his gaze away from her as he greeted Joyce. "I'm fine, thanks. Been
busy. You know what that's like."
Joyce frowned momentarily, "Don't I ever." Then she smiled again, leaving
William to wonder what the momentary lapse had been about. "Have you
been seeing anyone?"
William chuckled and then coughed nervously when Buffy came back in the
room, glowing and beautiful and handing him a beer. "No, no, I'm not.
Thank you, Buffy."
"Welcome."
"Buffy, dear, would you mind entertaining William while I finish dinner?
Your father should be home soon."
"I made it before Hank?" William said, surprised.
"Hmm," was Buffy's tight lipped reaction while Joyce simply nodded,
smiled, and walked away.
William followed Buffy to the living room, all the while forcing himself not
to ogle her. His British upbringing should have taught him to have some
manners. Suddenly, all he'd learned seemed to be forgotten.
Settling down on the couch, somewhat tense, William watched Buffy sit
down in the rocking chair across from him. She leaned forward, putting her
elbow on her knee and resting her chin in her hand. "So, I hear my Dad
asked you to give me a position in your firm."
William gulped, feeling like a bloody git. He was thirty-five years old and
this mere slip of a girl, all of twenty, was making him sweat. "Well, now
Buffy, I had a position open so he was only looking to help me out."
Buffy smirked and sat back, looking as regal as Queen as she rocked gently
in the chair. She raised her brows at him. "You didn't have a position open.
He asked you to do it as a favor."
She was challenging him. The bloody chit was challenging him and she
knew it.
God, it was a turn on.
He sat back, relaxed, sipped his beer and smirked back. "Where's your
proof?"
"My mother told me."
William's smirk fell. "Oh. Buffy, he's just looking out for you."
She started to laugh, a light hearted laugh that sounded like a choir of
angel's. What the hell was wrong with him?
"I lied William. She didn't tell me anything. I guessed when Dad called to
tell me you were coming over for dinner tonight with an offer for me."
William stared at her for a minute before breaking out in a broad grin.
"Buffy, my dear, you're going to make a fantastic lawyer."