“I saw you watching Shilla the Killa fight,” Jake says. “I’m sure Torment will waive your club fees if you want to do some training, maybe get into the ring one day, and the guys will be happy to help you out if you take on their case. Then you’ll never have to worry about Hellhole scumbags.”

My body stills. “Me fight?”

He moves his hand to my jaw, a lingering brush of his thumb over my cheek. “You’ve always had a fighting spirit.”

Learn to fight. Not because it’s a client networking opportunity or because it would look good on a CV, but because I want to. I could walk with confidence knowing I can defend myself. I could be part of a world that has nothing to do with law and everything to do with friendship and camaraderie and being the best you can be.

“Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

A slow, warm smile spreads across Jake’s face. He leans down and his lips hover over mine. I hold my breath, waiting, hoping for the kiss I don’t want, the kiss I do, the kiss that never comes.

His lips brush over my forehead and he ruffles my hair.

Then we go for burgers.

All of us.

Chapter 6

YOU’RE A DANGEROUS MAN

The Haight-Ashbury District, once the center of San Francisco’s hippie movement and now an eclectic neighborhood filled with exclusive boutiques, vintage clothing stores, and hip restaurants, is not the first place I would have chosen to set up my new law firm. The just-rolled-out-of-bed vibe is about as far from the corporate rat race I have lived and breathed in the city center for the last few years.

The contrast is put into stark relief when Max’s driver pulls over to the side of the road and Max steps out of the vehicle. Resplendent in a chic Armani suit, he is immediately verbally assaulted by a motley group of panhandlers congregated around the steps of one of the crumbling Victorian buildings across the road. Of course, all it takes is one look from über alpha Max to send them scurrying down the street.

Makayla sighs as she reaches for the door handle. “He’s always doing that. Sometimes he doesn’t realize just how intimidating a look can be.”

I glance through the window at Max, now leaning against the vehicle, his arms folded across his massive chest. “Oh, I think he knows. And he enjoys it. Maybe a little too much.”

Max’s driver opens the passenger door and Makayla and I step out onto the sidewalk. A group of neo-punks walks past us and snickers at the sleek, black Mercedes wedged between two rusted out Volkswagen Beetles.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I say as Makayla and I follow Max across the street. “I mean…Hippie Land? This is where Max thinks I should open a law office?”

Max doesn’t even turn around. “Yes. And there it is.”

My heart sinks as I follow Max’s gaze to the crumbling, three-story Victorian building across the street. Decorated with peeling gingerbread scrollwork and painted a brilliant robin’s egg blue, it fits in well with the other buildings on the street. Unfortunately, it is not quite the glass and steel tribute to modernity I had imagined for my first law firm.

“Good location. Safe. Accessible. Lots of parking.” Max motions us across the street. “And I guarantee you’ll get a good deal from the landlord if you ask nicely.”

Makayla snickers and my skin prickles. Oh God. She’s up to something. Again. As if it wasn’t hard enough to go to Max’s office with my business plan and ask him to invest in my law firm, she now wants me to beg for cheap rent too. My already-bruised pride cringes at the thought. If Makayla hadn’t threatened to disown me as a friend, I wouldn’t have called Max in the first place.

“I don’t need a whole building.” My steps slow. “Just an office. Preferably something small and cheap, but modern and professional. And without vagrants decorating the steps.” I gesture toward a scruffy man hunched on the stairs. “He looks like he needs a bed and a hot meal.”

Max’s face tightens. “He does.”

Puzzled, I near the object of Max’s derision and my breath catches in my throat.

Jake.

But not like I’ve ever seen him before. He’s wearing a black baseball cap backward and pulled low over his forehead, hiding his blond curls. His AC/DC T-shirt is worn and frayed and his jeans show more thigh than my tiniest dress.

He glances up and his gaze fixes on me. Dull eyes, bleary. A perfect match to his unshaven jaw. How can a man change so drastically in only a few days?

“What happened?”

Max sighs. “He’s running himself down trying to balance fight training with the company. You can only run on adrenaline for so long.”

Jake straightens as we approach. His gaze flickers from Max to me and then back to Max. “I thought you said you had someone interested in renting the property. I don’t have time for socializing.”

Max folds his arms. “Here she is.”

Jake turns away and his voice drops to a low grumble as he confronts Max. “I told you before this wasn’t a good idea.”

AWKWARD. I glare at Makayla and she gives me a sympathetic cringe.

“It’s okay.” I raise my voice loud enough for them to hear me. “The office space I proposed in my business plan will do fine. I was looking for corporate and professional, not quirky and full of character. I had already spoken to the landlord…”

“But it won’t be fine for Jake or for the district.” Max frowns and shakes his head. “He needs a tenant or the building and most of this block will be torn down by developers.”