The Wedding Pact Box Set

by Denise Grover Swank

  “Good luck! Maybe I should order out for a celebratory lunch.”

  Blair put a hand on her stomach to soothe her nerves. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet. This could be about anything.”

  Melissa flashed her a grin as Blair headed for the staircase that joined the two floors.

  When she stopped next to Ben Stuart’s assistant’s desk promptly at 10:44, she glanced up at her with a questioning glance. “Can I help you?”

  Ben appeared in his office doorway and motioned toward her. “Hey, Blair. Why don’t you come in and tell me all about the wedding? I haven’t talked to Neil in ages.”

  She tried to hide her confusion. Had he set up this meeting to chat about her wedding? She’d rather be downstairs preparing for her deposition. Hiding her irritation, she followed him into his plush office. He shut the door behind her, and she walked toward his desk, taking in his gorgeous view of the Country Club Plaza.

  “Thanks for fitting me in,” he said as he gestured for her to sit in one of two leather chairs in front of his desk. “I thought you’d want to hear this.”

  Now she was curious. She’d rather stand, but she was on Ben’s turf, and she suspected he was right; she wanted to hear whatever he had to tell her. She settled into a leather wingback chair while he perched on the edge of his desk.

  “We’re voting on a new partner next week.”

  She should have been happy to hear this, but something in his voice was off. “Why am I worried this is bad news?”

  He grimaced and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Listen, you have to swear to me that you’ll never say you heard this from me.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “It’s between you and York.”

  “George York?” He’d been at the firm longer than she had, but he brought in fewer billable hours. “Why would they choose him over me?”

  “Look,” he stalled. “This is the sticky part that you can’t let on that you know. I’m only warning you because this affects Neil too, but I’ll get canned if they find out I said anything.”

  “I won’t tell. I swear. What is it?” How bad could this be?

  “Some of the partners are concerned that you’re too blunt and direct.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “How is that possible? Why wouldn’t they want me to be blunt and direct?”

  He shifted on the desk, looking uncomfortable. “Some of them were born before dinosaurs roamed the earth. Given the choice between a confrontational woman and a mediocre guy, they’ll pick the guy.” He shrugged. “You know how it is.”

  She stood, her anger rising. “No. I don’t know how it is.”

  He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

  He was right, but it didn’t ease her anger. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Would they rather I play nice and lose cases?”

  “No, I think they just want to see you’re capable of having a softer side.”

  “So they want me to bake some cookies and bring them in?” she asked, her voice rising.

  “No. I’ve convinced them to hold off the vote until next week.” He paused for a moment. “Until after your wedding.”

  She looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

  “The fact you’re getting married is in your favor. They want a married partner, and it’s seen as a plus that Neil’s a doctor.” He cringed. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”

  She waved her hand in dismissal. “You already said that, and I won’t tell anyone, I swear. But if they want a married partner, why not go with me? George York isn’t married, and if the office rumor mill is to be believed, he isn’t even dating anyone.”

  “Like I said, a few old—but influential—coots are worried you’re not feminine enough.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me. That’s sexist, not to mention illegal.”

  His eyes hardened. “I swear to God, Blair, if you file a suit, I’ll lie through my teeth and deny it all. You’ll lose the case and your career.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Stop being such a drama king. I wouldn’t do that.” She knew it would be career suicide, but it didn’t mean she didn’t wish she could make them pay.

  “Listen, it’s not all of them, and they can be swayed. All you have to do is show up at your wedding in a pretty dress and smile like a demure blushing bride. Then you’ll check the marriage box while being sweet and covered in white lace or taffeta or whatever the hell your dress is made from. You’ll be a shoo-in. I’ll make sure of it.”

  She had to wonder if she wanted to be a partner. She already knew from personal past experience that some of the partners were sexist, so if the others were really that sexist . . . But she reminded herself that Ben was right—the older partners were in their sixties and seventies. They’d be out soon, one way or the other. She also reminded herself that she and Ben weren’t friends, despite his role in introducing her to Neil. He had no obligation to tell her anything. In fact, he was going out on a limb.

  “Well, thank you for the heads-up.” She glanced at the clock and took several steps toward the door.

  “A couple of other things, Blair.”

  She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

  “I think Rob Sisco Jr. might be watching your performance for the rest of the week. And he’s looking for reasons to vote against you.”

  Her mouth dropped, but she quickly recovered. “Thanks. What’s the other?”

  He grimaced. “If they don’t make you partner, they’re letting you go.”

  “What?”

  His jaw tensed. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

  She nodded as she walked out of his office, shell-shocked.

  “Tell Neil I’ll see him at the reception,” he called after her.

  She was momentarily confused before she quickly recovered. “Yeah. He’s excited to see you.”

  She tried to act normal as she made her way back to Melissa’s desk, sorting through Ben’s bombshell announcement. She should be pissed. She should be ready to fight, but she was too numb to feel anything.

  Melissa looked up at her, smiling with excitement. “Well?”

  It was nearly eleven, and even if Blair could share her conversation with Ben, she needed to process everything first. “Has Lopez’s replacement arrived yet?”

  “Yes, he’s in the conference room with the younger Mr. Sisco.” Worry filled Melissa’s eyes.

  “Shit.” So Ben’s information had been spot on.

  Melissa leaned forward, her face pale. “What’s going on, Blair? I take it you weren’t offered a partnership.”

  “I can’t get into it right now.” She started to feel lightheaded, but she couldn’t let her job performance suffer now. Now, more than ever, she had to prove she was worth keeping on staff. “I’ll tell you about it later. In the meantime, I need you to discreetly find out if any firms are looking for an associate attorney. You can not mention my name.”

  “What?” Melissa’s eyes flew open, and Blair instantly regretted mentioning it without more explanation. Not that it would help. The outlook was bad any way she presented it.

  Instead, she left the poor woman behind as she hurried down the hall and stopped outside the conference room. She took a moment to put her game face on, feeling more unprepared to deal with this deposition than any she’d had since graduating from law school. Knocking on the door, she walked into the conference room, then nearly passed out when she saw the opposing counsel.

  Garrett Lowry.

  Chapter Four

  Garrett was in a foul mood as he walked into the law offices of Sisco, Sisco, and Reece. He’d been uncharacteristically distraught and surly most of the morning, but he’d assured himself that he might still have a shot with Blair. Perhaps the fact that she’d left like that—without saying anything—meant that she felt something for him. Hell, he’d just use his staff to track her down. Then he’d go to her and present his case. While the first part of
his plan would be relatively easy since she was a practicing attorney, the plan for the later part was sketchy at best. But at least he had a vague hint of a plan. It was enough to put his mind at ease so he could concentrate on the deposition.

  He stopped at the front desk, and the receptionist gave him an appreciative stare. “I’m Garrett Lowry here for the Norfolk deposition. Can you let B.A. Hansen know I’m here?”

  She made a call to the back, then gave him a friendly smile. “Ms. Hansen’s assistant will be with you in a moment to show you to the conference room.”

  A pretty blonde opened one of the glass doors that cordoned off the back offices. “Mr. Lowry, if you’ll follow me.” As she started down the hall, he pushed all thoughts of Blair out of his head. If he screwed up this case, then he’d be the laughingstock of the office.

  A middle-aged man greeted him outside the conference room. “Good morning, Mr. Lowry. I’m Rob Sisco Jr., one of the partners here, and I’m going to sit in on the deposition.”

  Ms. Hansen’s assistant seemed taken aback by the news, and Garrett was surprised himself. Philip Lopez was no bumbling fool, which meant Ms. Hansen had to be on top of her game. Garrett had to wonder what could have precipitated this supervision.

  Rob Sisco pushed the door open and allowed Garrett to enter.

  There were two people already seated at the conference table—one was obviously the court reporter, and the other was a woman who looked to be in her mid-fifties. Her blonde hair hung to her shoulders, and while she had a few extra pounds around her middle, she was an attractive woman. She looked up at them, then glanced back at the door. “Where’s Blair?”

  Good God. Was he so thoroughly haunted by his ex-girlfriend that the opposing counsel had her name? He suddenly felt like Ebenezer Scrooge—forced by the ghosts of his past to face all his wrongs and inadequacies.

  Rob Sisco offered her a smile, but it came across as patronizing. “She’ll be here in a moment.” Then he looked at his watch and stifled a yawn.

  Garrett swallowed the urge to ask the guy if he was bored. Instead he sat on the other side of the table, across from Ms. Hansen’s client, and pulled out his laptop so he could open the document of questions he’d prepared.

  Sisco took a seat several chairs down and started drumming his fingers on the table, not stopping when Mrs. Norfolk shot him an irritated glance.

  Garrett glanced up at the clock on the wall. 10:59. Jesus, this was going to be a long week.

  He glanced toward the glass door, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Blair—his Blair—standing in the hall, wearing a long-sleeve black blouse and a white skirt, her hair up in a twist. How could she be here of all places? But the dozens of questions running through his head gave way to concern as he studied her. She looked off, like something had upset her. But even as he watched, she steeled herself and shook off whatever was going on. He could tell by the way she straightened her shoulders and turned toward the door with confidence and authority. It burst open, and Garrett stood as she entered, still in shock. Why was she going by B.A. Hansen when she was Blair Myers? A moment of panic washed through him—could Hansen be her married name?—but then it hit him. Hansen was her mother’s maiden name, and the A was from her middle name—Anne.

  He’d found her and he hadn’t even tried. They hadn’t seen each other since law school, and now they’d been thrown together twice in two days. This had to be the universe telling him to pursue her. He felt more hopeful than he had in years.

  She stopped behind one of the empty chairs, her face turning several shades lighter as her eyes searched his face, probably trying to verify that it was indeed him.

  “Blair?” Sisco asked. “Is there a problem?”

  She gave an involuntary shudder, then forced a smile as she moved to the table. “No. Of course not.” She extended her hand to him over the table. “Blair Hansen. I hear you’re taking Philip Lopez’s place.”

  He leaned over and shook her hand. So she wanted to play it like they were strangers. He understood the reasoning—he’d probably do the same thing in her situation—but it felt odd to pretend he didn’t know her when he’d held her in his arms the night before. “Garrett Lowry.”

  “Have a seat, Mr. Lowry.” She waved toward his chair and waited until he took a seat before she did the same. As soon as she was settled, she placed a legal pad with neatly written notes on the table in front of her. He wasn’t surprised. She’d always preferred to handwrite her notes in law school versus using a laptop.

  She studied her pad for several seconds, then reached for the water pitcher in the middle of the table and poured a glass. He saw a tremor in her hand as she lifted the glass to her lips. She was obviously shocked to see him, but she’d looked shaken up before she even stepped into the room. Something else had happened, something unrelated to the realization that they’d be sparring partners this week. She needed time to recover, and he was going to give it to her. He turned to the reporter.

  “Do you have the physical address and email address of my office in San Diego?”

  She looked up in surprise. “Of course.”

  “Could you read it off to me so I can make sure it’s correct? We’ve recently moved offices.”

  She rattled off both, then looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

  “Thank you.” He smiled and caught a glimpse of Blair out of the corner of his eye. Most of her color had returned, and she looked more prepared.

  She took a deep breath. “Let’s begin.”

  In many ways, it was a routine deposition. Rowena Norfolk was accusing her husband of philandering with multiple twenty-something-year-old women. Garrett had read Lopez’s notes. She was right. Now Mr. Norfolk wanted to divorce the current Mrs. Norfolk and marry version 2.0. The current Mrs. Norfolk wanted to make him pay for his indiscretions, and Blair Hansen was pushing hard to make that happen.

  There wasn’t much Garrett could do to discredit her story. Hers was the vanilla side of their divorce, and both attorneys knew it. For all intents and purposes, Mrs. Norfolk was the victim. The juicy details would come out when Blair deposed Lopez’s client and his girlfriends.

  While Rowena Norfolk came across as the victim, it was Garrett’s job to find any discrepancies that might discredit her innocence, which meant he had to act like an ass. Fortunately for him, he was fairly good at it. He had a few nuggets to dig into from her answers in discovery. Rowena’s husband had suggested his soon-to-be ex-wife had hidden money before the separation, and what was more, had committed an indiscretion of her own. Garrett was fully prepared to weasel the information out of her—if there was any grain of truth to it—but try as he might, his usual tactics didn’t work. Blair and Rowena stonewalled him at nearly every opportunity. Blair was protective of the woman, stopping him multiple times when she thought his questions went too far.

  Sisco left halfway through the deposition, and Garrett could see some of the tension leave Blair’s shoulders. Was this why she’d seemed so upset last night? Was she in trouble at work? He couldn’t imagine why. She’d sure as hell convinced Lopez she was a hard ass—the most coveted reputation an attorney could earn. He also knew Blair enough to know she was not the type to break rules or skirt the edges of morality. What could she be in trouble for?

  When he finished his questions, he thanked Blair’s client and stood to leave. He wanted to talk to Blair, but he couldn’t do that in front of Mrs. Norfolk. He walked out of the conference room, taking satisfaction in the way Blair’s gaze followed him.

  It was a little after noon now, and their next deposition was at three. Maybe he could convince Blair to join him for lunch. The Country Club Plaza was only a couple of blocks away, and they’d have time to talk and get back for the meeting. If Blair was like any other professional, the best way to get in the figurative and literal door was through her assistant. Good thing he knew who her assistant was, even if he didn’t know her name.

  The short hallway he’d come down had been lined
by conference rooms, so he headed down the perpendicular hallway, looking for the woman who’d led him to the conference room. He found an open area with several desks outside a bank of offices and saw her sitting at one of the desks. She had a phone to her ear and was arguing.

  “I don’t care if you have to fly that crab from Timbuktu—you will have it here for the reception, or we will sue you for breach of contract. Got it?”

  He grinned as he listened to her end of the conversation. He could tell Blair had rubbed off on her.

  She glanced up at him and her eyes widened. “If there are any more issues, I’ll expect you to call me immediately.” She hung up and grimaced. “Can I help you, Mr. Lowry?”

  “You’re Blair’s assistant, correct?”

  Her guard went up. “Yes, I’m Ms. Hansen’s assistant.”

  “Does Ms. Hansen have lunch plans?”

  The woman couldn’t have looked more surprised. “Uh . . .”

  He sat on the edge of her desk and leaned closer, waggling his finger at her computer. “Come on,” he teased, knowing he was pouring on the Garrett Lowry charm a little too heavy. “Just squeeze me in there. A quiet little lunch for two.”

  “That sounds cozy,” Blair said, her tone short.

  Garrett jerked upright, cursing under his breath. “Blair.”

  Her eyes narrowed with disgust. She skirted around him and walked into her office. “Well, don’t let me stop you. You two have a great time.” She slammed the door behind her, and her assistant shot him a death glare.

  “I think that’s your answer, Mr. Lowry.”

  Ouch. Garrett stood. “Maybe I should go talk to her.”

  She reached under her desk and pulled up her three-inch pump. “You go near the door, and I’ll gouge your eye out with my heel.” Her jaw clenched with anger.