We can’t stand each other and we do our best to avoid crossing paths at all costs. However, that’s close to impossible when you work in the same office. He likes to brag about his accomplishments whenever I’m within earshot, and even though I have accomplishments of my own, his bragging always makes me feel inferior to him. But this tidbit of news is something he can’t beat, and I know when he hears my name come out of our boss’ mouth, he’s going to be more angry than the time I beat him for valedictorian. Just knowing this makes me giggle as I walk down the crowded sidewalk toward the firm.
As I finish my walk to the office, I can’t help but think about the move. Colorado? I never dreamed of living outside the city. I’m not a fall in love, get married, and start reproducing as fast as possible kind of girl. I never daydreamed about small towns and kids running around the yard, nor do I tear up at the sight of a tiny sock. I’ve always preferred the busy hustle and bustle of city life. I like spending my days walking through endless stores. I love chance encounters with a celebrities or YouTube personalities when the girls and I go out for brunch. I love that I have at least 10 different options for coffee every morning. Could a small town even offer anything close to that?
My mind is an endless sea of questions as I walk into the lobby of the Mason, Lawrence, and Howe Law Firm. The lobby is packed with staff, clients, and outside workers: mailmen, couriers, and independent contractors. They’re all busy talking or checking their packages or phones. I pass by them in a blur on my way to the elevator. I reach out to push the button, but someone beats me to it. I look up to find Gavin smiling at me.
“You looked a little dazed. Figured I’d help you out,” he shrugs as his smile widens and his face reddens.
“Thank you,” I breathe out, embarrassment washing over me.
He runs his hand through his neat, dark hair and his eyes dart around like he’s searching for something to say. “So, how have you been?” He slides his hands into the pants pockets of his perfectly pressed suit.
I nod as I tighten my grip on my purse strap, needing something to keep me grounded. Gavin is young, rich, and handsome. I could easily slip into a daydream picturing us together. “Good. And yourself?” I manage to get out.
“Same old, I guess.” He looks at his feet as he moves his weight from one to the other.
“How’s the new puppy?” Gavin and I have always had a connection that neither of us has ever acted on. Actually, I don’t know if he feels it like I do, but I refuse to act on it. We work together, which means we can’t screw things up by acting on our feelings. So small talk is all we’ve ever done. Awkward small talk while waiting in line for the elevator.
“Really good,” he replies, pulling out his phone and showing me a picture of a golden lab on his lock screen. The little puppy has a red bandana around his neck, and his long tongue is hanging out as he sits in the grass next to a rubber ball.
“Aww, he’s adorable. Did you ever settle on a name?”
He snorts and rolls his eyes as he slides the phone back into his pocket. “Scout. I didn’t name him; my mom did. She puppy-sits for me while I’m at work. I left work one day and went to pick him up, only to find she’d named him. He was responding when she called him, so I didn’t have the heart to change it.”
“That’s sweet, and it’s a good name,” I say, managing to keep my voice even, despite my nerves.
The elevator opens just as Gavin starts to reply, cutting him off. We both step inside and he pushes the button for our floor.
I turn to resume our conversation, but he beats me to the punch.
“I don’t mean to be forward, but would you like to go out with me sometime? It seems like we’ve been dancing around it for years and I just figured, why not ask?” He looks hopeful with his wide eyes and raised brows.
“Oh, um . . .” I don’t know what to say as I bounce from foot to foot. “Sure?” I answer, but it comes out like a question.
His smile breaks free as a long breath leaves his lips. He’s relieved. “Really? I thought for sure you’d say no. Can I pick you up tonight? Are you free?” His words come out in a nervous rush.
A giggle slips between my lips, something that happens when I’m under pressure. “Yeah. Yes, I’m free.”
He claps his hands together. “I’ll pick you up around eight. Text me your address?” The elevator door opens but he’s blocking my exit.
I force a smile and nod. “Mm-hmm.”
He backs out of the elevator and holds out his arm so the door doesn’t close as I step out. I turn to face him, unsure of what just happened. Why did I agree to that date? Maybe it’s the chance I need to explain why this isn’t a good idea. Or maybe the date will be bad and we’ll decide we’re not meant to be. Then all of this worry will have been for nothing.
“I’ll pick you up later?” he asks one more time.
I nod my head with a smile in place, watching as he turns and walks away. When he’s no longer in sight, a deep breath leaves my lips. Today has brought me all kinds of surprises. I shake off the worry and nervousness and push myself forward, toward my office. I walk past my assistant and she follows me in just like she always does. As I begin putting my things away, she reads off my messages. Most of them are about returning calls or emails, but then she says it: “Mr. Mason would like to see you in his office as soon as possible.”
I can hear the fear in her voice. She’s afraid for me. No one gets invited into Mr. Mason’s office unless they’re being fired. I was hoping this announcement would be a public one, so I could watch the emotions change on Jeremy’s face. I know. I’m petty.
“Okay, thank you, Mary.”
She nods and rushes out the door, closing it behind her.
Now that the room is empty and I’m alone, I take a few minutes to get myself prepared. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling a sense of calm settle over me as I do so. I close my eyes and repeat the process. I can feel my heart slow to a steady rate as my breathing evens out. My eyes pop open and I begin straightening my gray slacks and matching blazer. I turn to face the mirror, fluffing my blonde hair that’s curled to perfection. My green eyes are wide with fear, but sparkling with excitement. Lastly, I pull out my tube of MAC lipstick and apply a fresh layer. I want to make sure I look my best when I accept my new position.
As I’m walking out the door, a feeling of doom settles over me. What if I’m not getting a promotion? What if I’m actually getting fired? I shake my head and roll my eyes at myself. No way am I getting fired. I’ve always met and exceeded the goals and expectations set for me by the company. I’ve never lost a case for the firm.
I come to a stop at the elevator and push the button, waiting for the car to return. I look around and find Jeremy standing behind the window in his office. His dark eyes are trained on me and he’s scowling. Maybe he’s heard the same rumor about my promotion. That would definitely cause him to look at me with annoyance and disgust.
The elevator dings and the doors open, giving me little to no time to think about Jeremy and his dirty looks. Instead, I step in and hit the button for the top floor. Riding up, my hands begin to shake and my heart rate spikes again. The calm, quiet moment from my office has worn off. As the elevator comes to a stop, I’m hit with nausea. I’ve been so excited about the possible promotion that I didn’t stop to think about what this could mean. Moving east. Surrounding myself with nothing but dirt, manure, and mountain ranges. No more mid-morning shopping at Gucci. Bye-bye 10 different coffee shops. I feel like I’ll be trading in my Louis Vuittons and fancy dinners for boots and mud wrestling competitions.
The doors in front of me open, leaving me frozen in fear as I lock eyes with the administrative assistant sitting in wait. All I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears. I can literally hear the blood rushing my body. I can feel my hair growing and my scalp tingling as each passing second ticks away as a reminder of how long I’ve been standing here. This poor woman probably thinks I’m having a stroke. I
hear her clear her throat, but even that doesn’t break me free from this fierce panic attack. The elevator dings and the doors begin to close with me still inside.
Finally, I react. I hold my hand out, causing the doors to open as I force myself to step out. As I walk toward her desk, she watches me like someone would look at a flight-risk bride on the day of her wedding. I tell myself that just because I’m being offered this position doesn’t mean I have to take it. I can turn it down. I tell myself to just go in there and see what Mr. Mason has to say. This finally settles my nerves enough that I can speak when I come to a stop at her desk.
“My assistant told me that Mr. Mason was asking for me,” I manage to stutter out.
“Ms. Teller, I presume?” she replies with a lift of one arched eyebrow.
I nod and swallow down the excess saliva in my mouth. “Yes.”
“Please have a seat and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived.” She motions toward a line of chairs pushed against the wall. I turn and have a seat as I hear her talking softly behind me. When I sit and am facing her again, I see her hang up the phone as her eyes lock on mine.
“You know, he really isn’t as scary as most people believe,” she says, trying to reassure me.
I offer a weak smile. “It’s that obvious, huh?”
She peers over the glasses sliding halfway down her nose. “Only a little.”
I want to ask for some tips, but the office door opens and Mr. Mason comes into view. “Thank you, Stella. Ms. Teller?” He motions me toward his office.
I stand and quickly walk across the floor. His cologne washes over me as I step past him. It’s thick and heavy and soothing in a weird way.
He closes the door behind us. “Please, have a seat.” He moves around me to take his place behind his desk. His dark hair is combed back perfectly, and his blue eyes are shining bright. He’s wearing a slight smile, making me a little more certain that I’m not being fired. I mean, what kind of psycho smiles when they’re about to fire someone?
“I’m sorry we’re only just now getting around to having a sit-down meeting, Ms. Teller. I usually like to have monthly one-on-ones with our top lawyers long before this, but I’ve been extremely busy these last few months.”
I smile politely. “No worries, Mr. Mason. I completely understand.” I surprise myself with how even and controlled my voice sounds. I’m usually not a nervous person, but today, everything feels off.
“Let’s get straight to the point, yes?” he asks, clasping his hands together on top of his desk.
I nod and cross my legs as I lean forward slightly. I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, waiting for whatever news he’s going to break that could potentially change my life forever.
“I’m sure you’ve heard talk about our Colorado firm.”
“I’ve heard a little, but nothing at the same time,” I say, not wanting to reveal what I’ve heard about the rumor floating around the office.
“Well, John Burns, our top lawyer in Colorado, is retiring, and we’re needing to fill that spot. This branch of the firm has plenty of clients—ranging from your typical small business owner to your everyday, run-of-the-mill nobody. But by far, our top client there is the Slade family. They own the second-largest brewery in North America, with yearly profits in the hundreds of millions. We want you to run it and take over their account. Of course they have their own internal counsel but we need you to handle some concerns they have locally—a neutral party so to speak.”
My mouth drops open, finally hearing these words from him. “I . . . I don’t understand. Run it? Like the entire account? Why me?”
He sits back in his leather chair. “You’re a top lawyer here, and you out-bill and outperform your peers by a mile. You’re young and have fresh ideas. You’re beautiful—the perfect type to get the attention of Drake Slade. You’ve proved yourself time and time again. From looking at your credentials, I have no doubt you’ll be able to complete this job to our satisfaction.”
“Thank you. That means everything coming from you. But I’m curious—is this a permanent relocation situation? I mean, sure, I’ll get to manage a branch of the firm and one of the largest clients, but then what? I’ll take on this client for how long?”
“We’re thinking a year,” he replies.
“Okay, so I’ll manage this account for a year, and uproot my life by moving. And then when the year is up, I’ll just come back here and do what I’m doing now? Is this a promotion? I don’t mean to speak out of turn here, but you should know I have my mind set on partner at this Los Angeles branch.” I have no idea where I’ve gotten the courage to speak my mind like this, especially to Mr. Mason himself, but it’s true. Why should I move for a year only to come back to the same old thing?
He seems surprised, if not a little annoyed. “Most people in the office would jump at this opportunity,” he points out.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mason, and please forgive my bluntness, but why? Why uproot and move for a year only to come back to the exact same thing? I mean, are you saying the salary and the office will be the same—no perks, nothing?”
He chuckles deeply under his breath. “You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Teller. Reminds me of when I was your age. A real bulldog. Tell me,” he sits up, placing his elbows on the desk, “what is it that you want?”
I have no idea what I want. I haven’t thought this far. But here goes nothing. “Well, sir, for starters, I’ll need a company car for the journey.”
“Of course, that’s standard,” he agrees.
“I’ll need a place to stay once I get there. I mean, expecting me to pay there while I’m still paying rent here wouldn’t work—and I can’t lose my current place if I want to move back to Los Angeles. I spent years on their waiting list and won’t go through that again.”
He smiles and nods.
“And if I’m going to be moving, I’m going to need something to sweeten the pot and make it worth my while. I want a 20 percent raise in my salary.”
He pauses at this for a moment. “Done,” he finally states.
“And when I come back, I want a bigger office, an expense account, and my own parking spot, because if I’m making more money, I’ll be buying a car. And lastly, I want a little more power around here. I’m not asking to become partner or have my name on the building tomorrow, but I want more than what I have now, which is basically nothing more than my name on a door. Right now, I’m just another lawyer here, Mr. Mason, but I’m going to dedicate my life to this firm. I’m not looking for a free meal ticket; I’ll work my fingers to the bone to accomplish my—and your—goals for this firm.”
His eyes dart around the room as he thinks things over. “Next year, Gary Wallace will be retiring. He has an office one floor down from here—four up from your current floor. If things go well in Colorado, you can have his office.”
I can have Mr. Wallace’s office? I’ve only met him a few times, but even I know he’s untouchable here. He actually has a lot of pull when it comes to important business matters. Jeremy will never be able to touch me then.
I smile and stand, holding out my hand to shake. “I accept the position. Thank you, Mr. Mason.”
He smiles and stands, shaking my hand. “Ms. Teller?”
“Yes?”
“Not to rush you into anything, but we’ll need you on the road first thing Monday morning. That only gives you the weekend to get your affairs in order.”
That does put a rush on things, but for the newfound perks, I can do it. “That’s completely understandable, Mr. Mason. I’ll head down to my office and start packing now. Thank you again for this opportunity, sir.” I turn and head for the door. I place my hand on the handle, but turn to him before exiting. “I expect your assistant will write up the terms we’ve agreed to and have the contract in my office by the end of the day?”
He laughs but nods his head as he runs his hand across his jaw. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less when working in an office full of lawyers.”
>
I laugh nervously to myself as I step out, closing the door behind me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and the butterflies dancing around wildly in my belly. I pause for a brief moment, letting myself absorb it all as I calm down. His assistant turns to look at me from over her shoulder with a wide smile.
“Told ya,” she says with a wink.
I laugh. “I guess you were right after all.”
“He’s really not as scary as everyone thinks.”
“Thanks again. Have a good day,” I say, stepping toward the elevators as she picks up her phone to make a call.
When I get off on my floor, the whole office is standing and cheering for me. Several people huddle around me, telling me “congratulations” and wishing me the best. All but Jeremy, that is. I look over at his office and find him behind the glass, checking out what’s happening. He frowns at me before closing the blinds.
“Looks like we’ll have to wait a little longer for that date, after all,” Gavin says, coming up to me and pulling me in for a hug.
I smile, excited that everyone is so happy for me. We’ve really gotten close over the last year. “Not at all. Let’s do lunch,” I say, pulling away from his hug.
“Really?” he asks, a little unsure.
I nod, smile still in place. “Of course. I agreed to a date. Let’s do it.”
I spend my morning packing up my office. Before I know it, it’s going on noon and Gavin is knocking on my door.
“Come in,” I say, looking over my shoulder.
“I was thinking we could hit up that new Italian joint. Unlimited breadsticks,” he says around a smile.
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