Maybe Someone Like You

by Stacy Wise

  “I’m not sure they drink champagne.”

  He nods. “I see. A lovely pair of Austrian crystal earrings just came in. Any woman would love them.”

  “What if she doesn’t have pierced ears?” This is stupid. Kenneth should be buying the gift, not me.

  “Certainly. Would you prefer a necklace? Perhaps an elegant broach?”

  I would prefer not to have to deal with this. There are a million important things to do back at the office. “I just don’t know. Maybe I should try once more to reach him.”

  I dial, but reach voicemail again. This is impossible. An image of Patty with her cheerful smile pops into my mind. Without giving it another thought, I dial our receptionist.

  She picks up on the first ring. “Janks and Lowe. How may I direct your call?”

  “Hi, Patty. It’s Katie Capwell.”

  “Hi, hon. Kenneth’s out at the moment. Do you want his voicemail?”

  “No,” I say, speaking in a hushed tone. “I need a favor. He asked me to buy something for his girlfriend, but he only told me to shop at Gable’s. Do you have any idea what his girlfriend likes?”

  A clattering sound makes me pull the phone from my ear. “Sorry, dear. Phone slipped right out of my hand. He asked you to buy a gift? For his girlfriend?” she says, lowering her voice.

  “Yes. I know I probably shouldn’t ask for help on this, but I’m stuck. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Katie,” she whispers, “no one knows about this. No one. But I’m his girlfriend.”

  My phone starts to slide from where it’s perched between my shoulder and ear, and I grab it. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s me,” she whispers.

  An image of Kenneth and Patty sneaking into the supply closet floats into my mind, but I blink it away. “Oh. Um, that’s great. I guess I called the right person, then,” I say with a nervous laugh.

  “You bet you did. I’m browsing the site as we speak, but I’ll play dumb. He’ll never know we talked, okay?” She pauses, and I hear the sound of her nails tapping the keyboard. “Oh!” she squeals. “The Daum frog is delightful. And it’s in acid green! Ohhh…there’s one in lilac, too. You’ll have to decide for me. I’m in love with both.”

  “The damn frog?”

  “Daum, dear. Daum. D-A-U-M. It’s a French crystal company.”

  “Super.” I rack my brain, trying to recall if my mother has any Daum crystal, but I come up blank. “Anything else, just in case?”

  “This is so fun! I’ll have to practice my surprised look in the mirror. Kenneth likes to be in complete control, if you know what I mean.”

  Oh God. I don’t want to hear anything about any of this. “I won’t say a word.”

  “You’ll never believe it! They have a love monkey necklace. Alex Woo. It’s perfect. Maybe too perfect. He’d get suspicious. Never mind. I’ll give him a subtle suggestion another time. Go with a pearl necklace. Wait! No, that’s too much. Just the frog.” She lowers her voice. “I have to go.”

  She hangs up, and I turn to the man in the elegant suit, giving him a feeble smile. “I’ll take one Daum frog in acid green. Thanks.”

  It’s after five when Kenneth finally summons me to his office so he can collect his gift. I walk in to catch him pressing both fists to his eyes, rubbing them. “Close the door and have a seat.”

  I do as he asks. He lifts the box from the bag, setting it on the desk in front of him, and frowns. “Why’d you have this wrapped? I need to see what I’m giving.”

  “I printed out an image. They do such a nice job wrapping, I assumed it’d be okay to only see a photo.”

  “I don’t want to see pictures. I want to see what I paid for in 3D.” His open frustration surprises me. Maybe his meeting didn’t go well. He lifts his hands in defeat. “Can you open this thing? You have fingernails, don’t you?”

  My nails are cut short for kickboxing, but I take the package anyway. After several failed attempts, I finally manage to get up a small corner, tearing the paper in the process. I act like nothing happened and ease the paper from the box, handing it to Kenneth. “Here you go.”

  He lifts the Daum frog, a quizzical look on his face. “A frog?”

  “Yes. The Daum frog in acid green,” I say as though everyone has heard of it.

  He flips it in his hand, and I suck in a breath, afraid it’ll break. That frog cost him a lot of money. “You would be happy with a ceramic frog?”

  My shoulders droop. As much as I want to blurt that Patty will love it, I know I can’t. “The clerk insisted they’re the new hot thing. Everyone wants one.”

  “In the under-ten age group, I’m presuming. Take it back. I’d appreciate it if next time you verify the gift is appropriate.” He lifts the lid from his candy jar and grabs a handful of gummy candies, smacking his thin lips.

  It is the right gift! Patty was over the moon about the frog.

  “But I—”

  “Never mind.” His eyes meet mine, two stern slits brimming with anger. “Let’s hope, for all our sakes, my girlfriend loves it. Also, I need to see the article I asked you to write.”

  I clench my jaw. He sent the email about the memo first, so I presumed it should take priority. I haven’t started on the article. “May I give it to you in the morning? It’s not complete. The memo is, though.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I tap it, wishing it would shut up.

  “The article is due tomorrow, and I’ll need to review it.” He glances at his watch. “You have until nine.” He slides the box across his desk. “And rewrap this for me. ASAP.” His thin lips ease into a smarmy smile. No wonder Patty liked the freaking frog. It looks just like him.

  “Of course.” I gather the box and paper, carefully placing them in the bag before rushing from his office back to mine. High-level projects, my ass. That’s what he said on my first day. And now I’m wrapping gifts? Good thing Mom spent all that money on my law school. It’s certainly come in handy for the shopping and gift wrapping. My phone buzzes again, and I pull it from my pocket, wondering if Kenneth somehow fired off a text when I was standing there in his office. But it’s not from him. The name on the screen makes me smile.

  How are those legs of yours?

  Smiling, I type my answer. Decorated with lovely splotches of black-and-blue.

  Oh shit. Arnica gel helps with bruising. Do they hurt?

  No, I’m okay.

  You’re such a badass.

  I reread Ryan’s words, reveling in the feel of the compliment as it wraps around me. No one thinks I’m a badass, but I like that he does. That’s definitely going on my gratitude list.

  I try. ;)

  We still on for tomorrow?

  Yep.

  Awesome. Have a great night, Katie.

  I tuck my phone into my pocket and bite my lip. The anger I felt slips from me, replaced by a thrilling warmth. There’s a very strong probability he checks in with all his clients, but I like that he checked in with me.

  I retie the bow and stroll back to Kenneth’s office.

  “Here you go! The receipt is in the bag. I paid with my credit card, so if you can write me a check, that’d be great.”

  “Thank you, Katie. I’ll get it to you in the morning.” He picks up a troll doll from his desk—the one with the bright-blue hair—and spins it in his hand. “Unless she doesn’t like the gift. Then you’ll pay for it.” He twists the hair into a neat spiral and places the troll back in line before looking up at me. “I’m kidding. Now get to work on that article. I want it perfect.” Once again, he smiles a frog-like grin.

  Whatever. I’m a badass.

  Back in my office, the thrill of Ryan’s text fades as I reread Kenneth’s earlier email. He expects me to complete an article for publication on third-party litigation funding by nine? It’ll take me that long to do the research. But did he say nine p.m.? Now that I think about it, he said it’s due tomorrow. Or was it tonight? I should’ve written it down.

  Whatever the case, I have no cho
ice but to get started. As I wake my computer, I dial Lauren.

  “Hey! I was just going to text you. Dinner tonight?”

  “I wish.” Lowering my voice, I say, “I’m stuck here until I finish an article.”

  “Aw, that sucks. We’ll do it another night, though. Good luck with the article.”

  “Thanks. I need it.”

  At eleven fifty, I send the article to Kenneth.

  Fatigue tugs on my limbs as I stand, and my knees can’t seem to do their job. I sink back into my chair and ease my head onto my desk. It’s cold against the warm skin of my cheek. I’ll stay here for only a minute. My breath slows, and sleep seduces me with its gentle pull. Maybe just a little nap. That’s all I need. Just a little nap.

  A man is shouting at me. I’m standing outside the library, and he says I’m blocking the door, but I keep trying to tell him it’s a window, not a door. His laugh is a booming sound, rattling me as though he’s inside my head, and he elbows past me, walking through the door that seconds ago I would’ve sworn was a window.

  My eyes drift open, and my surroundings blur into focus, but the laughter is still there. I jump from my chair in a panic. I fell asleep at the office!

  “It’s an open-and-shut case. We’ve got them by the balls!” It’s Brooks McDonough. God bless that loud voice of his. I reach for my phone. It’s 6:43.

  I race to my office door, closing it quietly. My skirt is twisted and wrinkled. Even if there’s no traffic, which is improbable, I’d never make it home and back here by nine.

  I just have to think. No shops open until nine. But the drugstore on the corner will be open. At the very least, I can buy some mouthwash and a toothbrush.

  Grabbing my purse, I rush from my office, willing Brooks to remain in his as I fly past. Once I reach the reception area, I pause, wondering if I should grab a can of Red Bull from the office fridge before I head out. I hesitate a second too long. The doors to the suite swing open, and in walks Craig.

  I straighten my purse on my shoulder and offer a confident smile. “Good morning.”

  His expression shifts from disinterest to concern. “What the hell happened to your face? Are you okay?”

  I reach a hand to it, embarrassed. “What do you mean?”

  He steps closer. “You have stripes.”

  “Oh. I, um, I fell asleep here last night. They must be marks from my desk.”

  Shifting his gaze from my face to my rumpled clothes, he frowns. “Are you heading home to change?”

  “No. I won’t make it back in time. I was just going to hit the drugstore to grab a few necessities.”

  With a sigh, he says, “You don’t have an extra suit here?”

  “No. You do?”

  “Of course, but sadly, it won’t work on you.” He grabs my arm. “Come with me.” As we walk, he says, “It’s early in your Janks and Lowe relationship to sleep over.”

  “It was accidental.”

  He nods. “Be careful. Once the cuffs are too tight, there’s not much you can do to get out of them.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  He turns swiftly and pushes the door wide. “Here we are. My office.”

  I step in, and he closes the door. “See this hook? It’s here for a reason. You hang your extra suit from it.”

  “Okay, I’ll bring one in. But that won’t really help me now.”

  He pauses, hand on chin, assessing me. “I was thinking I’d call a friend downstairs, but she’s much taller.” He shakes his head and grabs a card from his desk drawer, handing it to me.

  “Los Angeles Fitness Club and Spa?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “You want me to do a trial at your gym?”

  He sighs. “No. It’s a spa, too. Spas have showers and little mouthwash bottles. Even Q-tips.”

  “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “I try. When you get outside, turn left, and then left again. It’s the second building on the block. Julianne will be at the front desk. You can use the club for a week or just today, but you might want to consider joining if you’re going to sleep at the office with any frequency.”

  “I don’t plan on it.”

  “Yeah. None of us do. It just happens.”

  He looks at his watch. “I have a conference call with New York in two minutes. You should try to steam your jacket while you’re there. Hang it in the shower next to yours.”

  “Right. Thank you so much. I—”

  He waves a hand. “We were all new once. Speaking of which, I owe you an apology. When we met, I was operating under the assumption it was Be an Asshole at Work Day. I was in a mood, and you caught me at the height of it. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s really not, but thanks for giving me a chance to redeem myself.” He checks his watch again. “Don’t forget to bring a change of clothes tomorrow.”

  I offer a genuine smile and hold up the card. “Thanks.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The gym was better than I could’ve hoped for. It was stocked with brushes and blow-dryers and hair gel. I slicked my hair into a low ponytail to help alter yesterday’s look. With fresh lipstick and clean teeth, I don’t look half bad. I barely have the chance to set my purse on my desk when Kenneth bounds in, looking winded. He stares at me for a moment before opening his mouth to speak. “She laughed at the frog.”

  The frog? That feels like light-years ago. And she probably laughed with delight, for God’s sake. She was giddy over the stupid thing. “Laughed with joy, I presume?”

  “No.” His curt tone is like a slap, and I slink back into my chair. His eyes narrow. “I had to come up with a cockamamy story about how she’s had to kiss a lot of frogs before meeting her prince. It was drivel, but it worked. Lucky for you, I think fast. We can’t have any more screw-ups like this, are we clear?”

  “Certainly.” How could Patty prank me like that? I’ve done nothing to her.

  “I need you focused today. I’ve got a shitstorm brewing on Alvarez. If I don’t deal with it, I’m screwed.” His beady eyes bore into me. “I need you to put a memo together for potential witnesses for the Culpepper case including what information you think they may be able to provide.”

  “Where do I—”

  “The goddamn internet. Gather information. Fact find. It’s very simple.” Balling his hands into fists, he places them on his desk and leans forward. “Listen, Katie. You came highly recommended. I never agree to hire anyone without meeting him or her in person. Never. However, Steven and Thomas assured me there is no one better than you.”

  I stare at him as I absorb his words. Steven and Thomas know very little about me. My interview was nothing compared to the elaborate set of meetings I had at Bradshaw, Burke and Doyle, and I had already interned for them. The truth of it sinks in slowly and painfully, like the first stab of a syringe of novocaine sinking into my tender gum, yet there’s no numbing relief. Only the throbbing truth: my mom got me the job.

  Deep in my gut I knew, but I had done an excellent job of convincing myself otherwise. Angry tears threaten, but I refuse to let them fall. “I won’t disappoint you.”

  “Look, I’m not asking for miracles with this case, but I want to see something close. Take initiative. This is your opportunity to prove yourself. Wow me,” he says, waving his hands around his head.

  “Certainly.”

  “By the way, I received the article. I’ll review it this morning. Thank you for getting it to me before nine.” As he walks out, I stare at the door, my mind racing. So he meant nine a.m. after all. Part of me wants to punch a hole in the wall. Before I started kickboxing, I never had the urge to punch anything. Now it seems like a solution for everything. Like Patty, for example. I didn’t peg her as the type to play mean practical jokes, and now I want to punch her, too, but then I’d probably get fired, and Capwell women don’t get fired.

  As I step into the gym, a feeling of relief washes through me. Or maybe it’s adrenaline. I can fin
ally punch something. I drop my bag near the cubbies and look up to see Ryan standing behind Jasmine’s desk chair where she’s seated. He’s massaging her shoulders. And smiling.

  Pulling my water from my bag, I take a swig. Ugh. It shouldn’t bother me that he’s touching her.

  As I recap my water bottle, he pads over. “Hey, Katie! You ready to get after it?”

  “Yep. I’ve had a bulletproof coffee and a triple-shot cappuccino today, so I’m more than ready.” Or you can massage my shoulders like you just did for Jazzie.

  “Damn. Is that normal for you?”

  “Long night.”

  With a nod, he takes my wraps and moves them back to my bag. “Let’s warm up with a run.” He glances at my legs. “How are those bruises?”

  The greenish marks peek out from beneath my black leggings. I tug at the fabric to reveal the splotches. “They’re not so bad.”

  He smooths a finger over my left shin. “That doesn’t hurt? It’s raised.”

  “It’s fine.” I glance at the door, trying to ignore the chill bumps that his touch sparked. Can he see them? Does he know that the slightest contact with him sends shivers through me?

  “You’re a tough one. Okay, let’s hit it.”

  I follow him across the gym, and he pauses by Jasmine’s desk and picks up a takeaway cup, eyeing the purple contents suspiciously. “What the hell is this? Are you waiting for this to age before drinking it?”

  “Put it back! I’m saving it as evidence in case I keel over one day.”

  “What, are you allergic to acai?”

  “No, jackass. The freaky computer dude brought it for me. He said he couldn’t reach me and decided I was busy, so he brought me lunch.” She waves a hand at the cup. “For all I know it could be poisoned.”

  Ryan straightens. “Seriously?”

  “Well, no, but he’s gone from annoying to a legitimate pain in my ass. I told him it wasn’t cool for him to just drop by—that this is a business. I’m hoping that’ll keep him away. If he comes back, you and Javier can deal with him.”

  “You got it. I don’t like that he’s bugging you.”