“You’re a sadist, you know that?”
“Eh, that’s what all my submissives say.” Emily stands, planting a hand on my desk. Leaning over, she licks her lips, tapping a finger on the edge of my black ledger’s page. Her brownish-gold stare is steady—resolute. “Oh, c’mon… Madame Prude.” She waves her other hand in the air. “You’re not going to tell me that you don’t want to stick it to this Big-Business asshole—Chris Jackson, to give him a taste of his own medicine when you make him pay out of the ass to the people he stole from? With interest?”
I bite my lip. “Umm, no…?”
“Tell me,” she continues, “that you don’t want to give this Jackson guy what’s coming to him, after everyone at the firm ignored witness after witness, after you dug up every dirty detail and shoved them into the Senior Partners’ faces? After you hit the streets to dig up this evidence and damn near put a hole in your Manolos—?”
“Okay, okay!” I yell, grabbing her hands. “Alright…you’ve—you’re right, okay? I…” I take a deep breath. “On some level, I do agree with you.” I exhale. “There. Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” she stresses. “And you can bet your yoga-shaped ass that a thousand law firms would kill for this kind of coverage. Just…” She leans in. “Talk to David.”
I open my mouth and she stops me.
“He’ll listen to you if you ask him. Showing the world that this firm won’t bow down to a man like Chris Jackson might be awesome for business.” Emily crosses her arms. “And while you’re at it, it might not be a bad idea to make sure David knows all about…”
“That I know all about what?” I hear from the doorway. I nearly drop my jaw on the desk.
Senior Partner, David King, is just standing there, leaning against the doorframe. In a navy blue suit almost the color of his eyes, he smirks in my direction, arms crossed. His tiny smile is crooked and when he looks at me, his eyes full of humor, I don’t know whether to laugh or hide my face in shame.
I glance at Emily.
Fuck, how long has he been standing there? My closest coworker hops off my desk. Clearing her throat, she laughs dryly and I usher David in, standing up as he makes his tall, dirty blond way into my office. I try to keep my knees from buckling…and fail.
David smiles. “Just wanted to grab you ladies before our meeting.”
I frown. “Our meeting?”
“Yeah,” he sighs, “Spur of the moment meeting of the minds. There are a lot of new developments. I want to make sure that we’re ahead of them. Now more than ever.”
His fingers splay on the edge of my desk. In that moment, I remember what they felt like on my skin when I first shook his hand almost eleven months ago, and I shake the memory of them off me, grabbing my planner and heading out with Emily at my side, my nerves humming as I follow David down the hall and to the conference room at the end of it.
The entire law firm staff is already waiting inside.
I take a seat, feeling somber, anxiety suddenly eating me up as David takes a stand at the front of the room, raising his hands.
“Alright, everyone. Please be seated. This won’t take but a minute.”
Crossing my hands in my lap, I straighten my back, not for a minute expecting what comes out of his mouth next.
“So, I know you’ve heard all by now about Fitzgerald Sparrow’s, uh, accident.” My heart jumps into my throat. “Well, I will be the first one here to confirm that the rumors are in fact true. We’re going to have a new guest in the office as we roll out some new changes for the firm.” He bows at the waist slightly. “With your permission, of course.” He looks around at the rest of the room. “I believe many of you here know him. He is, of course, family to this firm.”
My eyes flit to Emily, and I suddenly have the sensation of feeling very fucked. And definitely not in the good way.
David continues. “And we must be open to change.” He frowns. “As a result, our distinguished firm here might receive a lot of attention and press because of Fitzgerald’s horrible misfortune. In no one way,” he starts to circle the room, “shape or form, are we going to encourage this—this negative attention. We are going to do what we do best: Rise above it. So, if anyone—anyone—here feels the need to feed this gruesome media beast surrounding our former—excuse me—current Managing Partner, let me know now, because I can tell you…that maybe you and this firm aren’t the right fit for each other.”
The room grows silent.
“If there are any questions, feel free to let me know now or within the next twenty-four hours. After that, I refuse to let the gossip mill drag us down with it. A sort of ‘Speak now or forever hold your peace.’” His eyes scan the room before finding mine. I meet his stare, unblinkingly.
“Alright, well, if no one has anything to say at the moment, then…” He knocks his knuckles against the tabletop. “Meeting adjourned.”
The rest of the room begins to file out. I feel eyes on the back of my body as I follow the rest of my colleagues out but I don’t dare turn to meet them. Emily pinches my side and we both slide into my office without a second word, silently shutting the wooden door behind us.
She lets out a big sigh.
“Holy hell, that was intense.”
I turn to her. “Ya think?”
“David went all cloak and dagger with that one. I usually think of the guy as a stuffed shirt, but the way he laid down the law about Fitzgerald…? Kinda hot.”
“Correction: Hot…but confusing as all hell.”
“Right, right. The family bit.” Emily smacks her forehead. “Does David have any, uh, siblings?”
I shake my head. “No idea.”
“But didn’t you obsessively research him when he first star—?”
I hold up one finger. “Finish that sentence, and I will have to kill you.”
“Okay, so I’m guessing that’s a Hell no.”
I plop down behind my desk. “What are we going to do now?”
“What can we do? Fitz is in the hospital. We have no say in anything. The answer is nothing.”
“It can’t be nothing…” I reply out loud.
“Why?”
“Because with Fitzgerald Sparrow in the hospital and David’s mystery guest, too much is up in the air. My guess? The new Managing Partner won’t be David. And despite my head screaming that it can’t be possible, I’m starting to have my suspicions of who it could be…”
Chapter Ten
HEATH
Nightfall hits me like a fucking train. Steadfast. And unmerciful.
My morning wasn’t much better after bumping into Violet in the office. And though we only spoke for less than ten seconds, I was affected all afternoon, my thoughts stuck on her for the better part of my evening, my consciousness torn into two—scattered along the train track that was my day.
The only notion that keeps me from falling too far?
Marilyn.
A call from the hospital reveals that my sister’s ready for visitors, and with a relief I didn’t know I could feel, I rushed to New York Presbyterian in my customary town car, my gait tearing a hole through the hallways as I made a beeline for her room, ignoring all else.