Hunter had always had an unpleasant history with assistants—grown men and women who seemed competent enough at first, but ultimately made a colossal mess of everything he'd given them to do. It was one of the driving forces behind his anti-assistant stance for months before he'd finally decided that poor help would be better than no help. He'd tentatively opened the applications again, this time going in with low expectations to avoid the inevitable disappointment.

Except the disappointment he expected never came. The minute he saw her walk into his office with that sweet, respectful smile and bright eyes, he knew he was a goner. Hunter didn't care about any experience she may or may not have had—didn't even double-take at her resume. He knew he would be hiring her the minute she batted those pretty eyelashes at him. Maybe it was wrong that he hired her purely based on how she looked, but at least he'd be less disappointed when she followed the same path as every other assistant he'd ever had.

To his surprise, it had actually been the best decision of his life. For as easy on the eyes as she was, she also made his life much easier. From remembering his coffee order by heart to reorganizing his file drawer in alphabetical order, she quickly became a constant in his life that he couldn't see himself living without. At least not peacefully. For the first time in what felt like years, Hunter was enjoying his work at the firm again.

Even on the long days where his clients were deciding to be as difficult as possible, most notably Mr. Thompson—the double homicide perpetrator who Hunter believed without a doubt was actually guilty—was still refusing the plea deal on the same insistence that he was innocent despite his DNA being at the scene of the crime, as well as his car, and the security footage that clearly showed him with a smoking gun two blocks south of the crime scene.