Christian

"So what does this do?" I asked Alex, reaching past him to point to this small drive he had plugged into his laptop.

"This is the software I was talking about earlier. We're going to run it against the files using key words and phrases. It will take some time, but not as long if we were to manually search through the documents." Alex explained. I gave him a nod.

When I glanced away from the computer screen, and towards him, I now started to notice just how tired he looked. His eyes were dark with bags underneath, and the lids slowly began to lower from the sleep deprivation.

"Thank you for staying. This was some smart thinking, too." I scooted closer to him. "You never cease to amaze me." That last part came out low in an almost whisper against his ear. I saw him visibly shiver at my words and proximity. "It makes me want to do something else." I added. My teeth grazed his lobe, and his fingers stopped typing completely as they hovered over the keys.

"Christian." Alex spoke. He had most likely meant it as a warning, but it came out as more of a moan.

I liked it when he said my name.

I was going to have to make him say it more often.

Before I could spiral further into my devilish thoughts, I was pulled away by the sound of someone clearing their throat near the doorway of Alex's office.

Alex

"How's it coming along?" Brad asked, as he entered with two cups of coffee in hand.

"Just powering it up now." I replied. "Are there any phrases either of you wanted to start with?" Christian glanced at Brad, and they both shared a look. I wasn't sure what that look meant, but Christian was the one who ended up putting in the request.

"Let's start out with the word 'Lawsuit' and see what that brings up."

"There's going to be quite a bit of hits." Brad mumbled. My eyes furrowed at that. How often did these motherfuckers get sued?

I typed in the phrase and hit search. The adaptor began flashing good signs of green lights as it got to work, and the search results started to grow in numbers as well. So far it had found 265 files with the word 'Lawsuit' mentioned.

"Holy shit." I mumbled. Brad and Christian scooted a little closer to take a look. "How often do y'all get sued?" I couldn't stop myself from voicing my thoughts.

"Often." Brad replied simply. "It's never anything too serious or impactful, and it almost never makes headlines... I make sure of that."

Both Christian and I pulled our eyes away from the screen to look at Brad. I wasn't sure why that last part sounded a little sinister, but okay...

"That last part sounded like I kill people. I don't actually kill people." Brad added. Christian and I couldn't help but crack grins at that terribly worded comment.

"Let's hope you never get put on trial, Brad. You're a stellar lawyer, but you'd make one bloody terrible defendant." Christian added. Brad tried to mask a smile that was threatening to break through past his own lips.

I had to admit though, when Brad and Christian were together, Brad seemed far more... relaxed? It was hard to explain but he was less of Lawyer Brad, and more of a I'm More Than Just Law Brad. That was the Brad I could see myself inviting out for drinks. It could have been the stress from the situation, but it felt as if Christian physically made Brad calmer.

I'm sure this took me as a surprise because I couldn't imagine Christian having that affect on anyone. Usually he was the cause of anxiety and high blood pressure.

Brad had since changed out of his work clothes, and into his work out clothes that he had brought for the gym. That decision was definitely for the best. He was so stressed, his dress shirt had started forming pit stains around his underarms. It was a terrible look for him.

So... unBrad.

In this exact moment, I was kind of mad at myself for not going to the gym more often, and having my own bag of gym clothes I could change into. The time was coming on close to midnight, and this dress shirt was getting increasingly uncomfortable. The fabric felt suffocating against my skin, regardless of how many buttons I loosened.

Any more undone buttons, and this might have well been a set for Magic Mike 3.

"Let me skim through a few of these files." I mumbled to the group.

Brad and Joan had taken a seat in the chairs across from my desk, and Christian was sitting on the ledge of the table, facing me. They all looked pretty worn out as far as appearances went. Joan was probably the one holding it together the best. She was still in her pencil skirt and high heels, with one impeccable bun pulled back tight. I couldn't help but think she was looking a little too good for a night like this one.

My suspicions were swiftly confirmed as I glanced between Joan and Brad. They were talking about something to do with law, yet their body language said something completely different. Joan had taken a liking to Brad, and I had to immediately remind myself that I was going to need to administer the big brother talk to him. Yes, Joan was older, but I didn't give a fuck. That was my ride or die bitch right there. I wasn't about to have Brad get it twisted.

Christian distracted me, as he started to play footsie with me from behind the desk.

I shot him a look, letting him know that that was awfully distracting. He shot me one back, letting me know he didn't give a shit.

I did my best to get back to work. The ninth file I began skimming through looked like scanned documents from some sort of written statements. It was talking about a birth that happened. Most of the words were in Russian, however, so I could barely make out a large part of the story. I noticed their were pages missing at the end of the scanned images. It just stopped all together. It said this file contained ten scanned pages but there were only six.

I pulled back out into the main menu of the program, and felt Christian's eyes on me as I typed 'Baby' into the search engine.

The first few hits were just merchandise for toddlers and babies in relation to sports and camping. It took me a while to sort through and relocate most of those files into our uninterested pile.

There was another file that caught my attention, however. This one, just like the other, was almost completely in Russian. I couldn't understand much of anything, besides on name that popped up frequently. It was Bradford. Bradford Ivanov. My eyes furrowed even further... who the fuck was Bradford Ivanov? I couldn't recall Anna telling me about a Bradford when she went through the company history.

I glanced up at Christian and noticed he had become increasingly distracted by his now chilled cup of coffee. This was when I went back to the search engine, and typed in my last search for the night.

'Bradford Ivanov.'

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