The Mccaffertys: Slade

“I’m not buying that you don’t remember.”

“I said I do, some of it, probably more than I wanted to when I drove back here, but let’s just keep things in perspective.”

“Perspective?”

“I’m an attorney working for you. You’re the client.”

“Hell’s bells, Jamie, we slept together.”

“That’s really not so unique, is it? Not for you. Not with the girls around here.”

His jaw tightened and he took a step forward. “You were different.”

“Like hell, McCafferty. I’m going to be honest with you, okay? There was a time when I would have done anything, anything to hear you tell me I was different, special, someone you never forgot…But that was eons ago, when I was just a wounded little girl. I’m over it and I don’t want to go back there and I don’t believe for an instant, not one instant, that you’ve had even the slightest bit of regret for what happened.

“So just because I’m in town and you feel…what? Compelled to ‘clear the air,’ forget it. I have.”

“Nice speech you’re peddling,” he said, looking down at her. “But I’m not buying it.”

God, his eyes were blue. “You don’t have to. You can take it or leave it.” She wanted to step away from him. He was just too damned close, but she held her ground, determined to show him that she wasn’t going to be intimidated or bullied. Those days were over.

“You’re scared.”

“And you’ve got one hell of an inflated ego, McCafferty. But then some things just don’t change, do they?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. And you do remember, Jamie. You’re too smart to have forgotten.”