I dropped my head on the desk. Was there a conspiracy around me?
“I remember when I made partner, and it didn’t pay off like I thought it would. Turns out I just had more work.” He laughed.
Partner? I couldn’t even make Managing Attorney. I banged my head against the desk. “Dad, I need to tell you—”
Beep! Beep! Beep! “That’s my alarm, honey. I’ve got to run. Big golf game to go to. Congratulations again!”
The dial tone rang in my ear and I set the phone back in its cradle. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was time for the dreaded meeting anyway. A lump rose in my throat. Hot tears stung my eyes. May as well meet my new boss and get this over with.
Holding my head high, I strode out of my office, and followed Troy Monaghan down the hall. Troy was another attorney in my office and definitely practiced the art of fun. He’d dated several women in our firm, was the first to leave the office at night, and was habitually the last one to arrive at a meeting.
Except for now, since I was trailing after him.
“Sorry they didn’t give you the position, Jill.” He gave me a side-glance. “That was a raw deal.”
A slice of pain stabbed my heart. “Thanks, Troy.”
I slid in the conference room behind him, and took the standing spot next to him against the wall. With the entire Personal Injury Department in here, it was a tight fit, but I spotted the partners seated at the table. I knew Charlie was in court today, but I didn’t see a new (thieving) face next to the partners.
Jim Shaw’s face beamed. “Now that we’re all here, I don’t see any sense in wasting time. We all know why we’ve gathered. It’s time to meet our new Managing Attorney for the Personal Injury Department.”
My eyes closed briefly as nausea crept up my throat, so I tried to focus on the positive. Perhaps my new boss would be hands-off like Charlie had been, and it would be business as usual around here. That wouldn’t be so bad.
Jim made eye contact around the room. “Our newest asset to Corbett, Gray, & Shaw comes to us from San Diego where he worked for a prestigious law firm and recently commanded a seven-figure jury verdict for his client. Team, I’m very proud to introduce you to our new Managing Attorney . . . Ryan Shaw.”
Clapping erupted around the room and Troy nudged me with his elbow as I somehow managed to bring my hands together several times. All eyes floated toward the corner of the room where I noticed a man wearing a blue polo shirt and khakis. He leaned with his shoulder against the wall, hands in his pockets, one foot crossed over the other.
Talk about casual. The nephew didn’t even have the decency to dress up for the position he’d heisted from me. Taking a deep breath, my eyes traveled upward to look into the face of the man who’d ruined my life.
Sexy hazel eyes stared back at me, holding my gaze. My stomach twisted, and my eyes narrowed. My new boss was Ethan’s best man, Ryan.
Chapter Three
On Tuesday morning, I’d almost dozed off—using my twelve-inch Somerset file for a pillow—when someone tapped my shoulder. Startled, I snapped up and stared into my assistant’s laughter-filled eyes.
Sarah smiled. “Someone have a late night?”
I groaned. “My friend, Ginger, called last night and we talked for two hours about a guy she’s seeing.”
She shook her head. “Not going well, I take it.”
“No.” I leaned back in my chair. “She’s such a sweetheart, but he sounds like a player. She doesn’t want to give up on him, because she thinks he has hope and her clock is ticking.”
Sarah slipped into the chair across from my desk. “Ah, one of those women.”
My brows came together. “One of what women?”
“Is she almost thirty?”
Sounded about right. “Yes . . .”
Sarah shrugged. “She’s PML.”
I tried to decode the unfamiliar acronym, but came up with a big fat goose egg. “Never heard of it. Does it run along the same lines as PMS?”
Sarah shook her head, then leaned toward me conspiratorially. “You know, pre-midlife. Right before single women hit thirty, they panic because they’re not married and all the good ones get taken. Some gals go a little crazy, trying to snag a husband before their choices dwindle to nothing.”
For some reason, fear spread over me. First Ginger and now Sarah. Was thirty the new deadline for marriage? “PML, huh?”
“Yep.” Sarah stood upright and thumbed through the small stack of papers she held. “The guys who’d make a great husband are flying like hotcakes at our age. Soon, we’ll only have the men women passed on.”
“Hmm,” I said, wondering why my clock had never started ticking. Oh, right. Because I’d been too busy slaving all my free time away at my desk, working for a promotion I’d never get because Jim Shaw doled out the best positions to family first.
“You don’t have to worry, though.” Sarah smiled as she dropped a handful of papers into my in-box. “I heard through the legal grapevine that you met someone at Ethan Harrison’s wedding last weekend.”
My eyes bulged. “What?”
She pulled the papers out and began shuffling through them casually. “Rumor has it you were in a hot lip-lock with a very sexy guy on the dance floor.”
I sat up, and straightened my button-up blouse. “It was just a kiss, and won’t happen again.”
Sarah threw me a questioning look. “Why not?”
Maybe because he’d kissed me after I’d confessed the horror at his stealing my promotion? “Just not interested in him.”
Although when Sarah left my office, this PML thing started circling my brain. Of course, I wanted to get married someday. And it’s not like I was getting any younger. . . .
“Knock-knock.” Valerie Jacobs cooed from the doorway. “How are we doing today?”
“Fine, Val.” I skimmed through the stack of papers on my desk. “What’s up?”
“I just came from Ryan’s office.” Valerie winked her long—obviously fake (but, cute)—eyelashes at me. “He’s such a doll.”
Jealousy snaked up my spine, which was ridiculous. Val was single. So what if she made a play for Ryan? I, myself, had been avoiding him like a garlic sandwich. “What can I do for you?”
She gestured to the folders bundled under her arm. “Ryan had these Somerset pleadings of yours, so I offered to bring them back for him since I was coming in here anyway.”
I watched in confusion as Valerie plopped the stack of legal documents on my desk. “This is my case. What was Ryan doing with these?”
“Reviewing them?” Valerie sounded like she was guessing.
This was too much. First my job, now my files. I grabbed the pile of pleadings and flipped through them frantically, searching for a clue as to why Ryan would go through them without asking me first. It infuriated me that he was checking my work. I glanced up.
Valerie watched me intently.
Probably the first time she’d caught me in an emotional frenzy. Actually, it was the first time I’d even had one at work. “Is there something else?”
“Actually, I’m making the rounds. I ordered a welcome cake for Ryan from Freeport Bakery. Their chocolate-with-cream-fillings are out of this world.” Valerie rolled her eyes heavenward. “Care to chip in?”
I had the sneaking suspicion Valerie thought buying Ryan a cake would edge her closer to a date. Not like I cared to help Val in her quest (or welcome Ryan, for that matter), but I searched in my wallet for five bucks. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She pocketed the green bill. “See you in the break room at three.”
Val flipped her raven hair over her shoulder, then strode out of my office.
I turned back to the small stack of phone bills I’d been reviewing before Val’s annoying interruption. Sarah had highlighted all calls made to the defense attorney’s office in San Francisco, and there was a sticky note on the file from Ryan asking her to do so. There was also a note from Ryan asking me to draft a summary of my telep
hone conversations.
I set the phone bills in the document holder by my computer and filed the Somerset pleadings Ryan had borrowed back in my cabinet. Why had Ryan asked Sarah to highlight my calls with the defense attorney? And why did he want me to type out my conversations? Was this some kind of power trip?
My career had sunk into a deep dark pit. There was no denying that. Also, for some reason, my conversation with Sarah was nagging at the edge of my brain. I’d never worried about marriage or aging, so the jury was still out on whether or not I actually had PML. Yeah, my thirtieth birthday was next month. And, sure, I was as single as it gets. Whatever. . . .
It’s not like my singleton status made a bit of difference at three o’clock when the entire department ate Valerie’s to-die-for cake and celebrated the arrival of Ryan Shaw, while I remained chained to my desk trying to recollect two-year-old conversations with defense counsel.
I seethed as my fingers hit the keyboard. Yes, the Somerset file was a high-value case, but Charlie had never questioned the way I organized my files. Just another reason I needed that job from Madison McKenzie—as soon as possible.
* * *
Instead of hearing from Madison McKenzie Friday morning, Kristen had called from her honeymoon in Italy to find out what I was doing “for fun” today. Eyeing an email from Sarah, I told her I was taking my assistant to lunch. I failed to mention I hadn’t invited Sarah yet. When Kristen prompted that lunch with my assistant was work-related—sigh—I added that I planned to invite Ginger, too.
This is how, an hour later, I came to be sitting at a restaurant in the Geoffries hotel with Sarah and Ginger for lunch. The restaurant was packed, but we got a corner table with a nice view of the garden patio. Once we gave our meal orders to the waiter, I vowed to forget about work for an hour.
Ginger placed her napkin in her lap. “I told my sister I was having lunch with you, Jill. Do you handle something called general liability? She’s looking for a good lawyer she can trust.”
“There have been some changes at my office, and I’m not sure how they’re going to pan out.” I exchanged a look with Sarah, but knew she’d keep my confidence. I hated turning down work, but I didn’t want to take her sister’s case, then abandon her when I got a job at McKenzie, Atkins, Haugan, & Hall. But I couldn’t refer her to Madison’s office in case, for some horrible reason, she didn’t hire me. “How soon does she need an attorney?”
She reached for her water glass. “She’s miserable with who she has now, so the sooner the better.”
“I understand.” I reached into my purse and pulled out the card Charlie had given me for his new firm with Ethan. “Here’s the card for Harrison & Mansfield. They’re both fantastic lawyers and she can trust them implicitly.”
“Thanks, Jill.” She accepted the card, then slipped it into her purse. “Guess what? Victor invited me wine tasting in Napa this weekend.”
Sarah’s face lit up. “Sounds fun. How long have you been dating?”
“Over a month now.” Ginger tossed me a quick glance. “Jill doesn’t approve because he was supposed to be my date at a wedding last weekend, and he backed out.”
No point in pretending I was a fan of Victor. “If you can’t count on him, he’s not much of an asset. I think you deserve more.”
“Oh, really?” Ginger gave me a wicked smile. “I saw you getting hot and heavy with Ethan’s lawyer friend on the dance floor. Would you consider him an asset?”
I shifted in my seat. Even though Sarah had already heard about the kiss, she didn’t know who it had been with, and I wanted to keep it that way. I rubbed my temple and considered whether Ryan could be a future asset, but I really didn’t know him more than a twirl and a kiss. And as the guy who wanted to micromanage me to death. “Definitely not an asset. More of an irritation, like Victor.”
Ginger’s mouth dropped open. “Are you saying Ryan didn’t ask for your phone number?”
My cheeks heated. “No, one dance was enough. Can we talk about something else?”
Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Ethan’s lawyer friend is Ryan Shaw?”
Sarah was way too astute. Sigh.
I threw my gaze toward the ceiling, hoping Kristen was happy on her honeymoon. Because, at the rate I was going, she was in for a long therapy session with me when she got back. “What happens at lunch, stays at lunch. Agreed?”
Sarah bit her lip, obviously suppressing a smile, and nodded. “Val would die if she knew. All she talks about is Ryan’s hotness.”
“Ryan works at your firm?” Ginger moved her hands to her lap as the server set down our salads. “That makes for convenient dating.”
“Not even close.” I lifted my fork, squeezing the handle until my fingers hurt. “He is the partner’s nephew and they just hired him for the promotion that should’ve been mine. New subject? Please?”
Ginger shook her head. “Now I get why you’re not seeing him again. There must be some way to resolve this, because I really saw you two as a couple.”
Yeah, because I’d been acting. “Sarah, I’ll pay you a million dollars if you explain PML to Ginger right now and get her to dump Victor.”
Sarah met my gaze, and I could see her wheels turning about the whole Ryan subject. Luckily, she showed mercy on me and engaged Ginger in a dialogue about pre-midlife.
I eyed Sarah as she chatted with Ginger. Was Sarah PML?
Ginger’s voice rose as she relayed one of Victor’s annoying traits, but then insisted that no man was perfect. Ginger was most definitely PML.
After I finished my salad, I rubbed my temples—partly from Sarah learning about Ryan and me, but mostly because his kiss was circling my brain again. My cheeks heated and I hoped they hadn’t noticed. That kiss had meant nothing. Yes, absolutely nothing. But I didn’t want to explain that to my friends.
I was having a hard enough time convincing myself.
* * *
I spent all afternoon working on a new treat Ryan had requested—a special report on the Somerset file. Never mind that I’d settled multi-million-dollar cases without unnecessary reports. I tapped SEND on my email, getting the tedious overview off to him by his five o’clock deadline.
Then I stared out my office window, and chewed viciously at my thumbnail. It was the lowest of the low that I’d started biting my usually manicured nails. I glanced at the time and it was 5:05 p.m. Time to go home. Since when had I become a clock-watcher like my colleague Troy?
Whatever. If I couldn’t advance in my career, why stay late? But as I reached for my briefcase, I caught sight of the yellow paper Sarah had dropped in my in-box a few minutes ago. Memos were always in yellow. What if it was urgent? I willed myself to ignore the glowing piece of paper but my stubborn sense of duty won out.
I snatched the yellow slip and scanned the first few black-typed lines. It was an announcement welcoming the arrival of Ryan Shaw. What the . . .? Everyone had celebrated already with his cake on Tuesday. I crumpled the wicked piece of paper, then hurled it into the wastebasket. I snagged my briefcase and bee-lined for the door.
As I rounded my desk, Ryan sauntered in through the doorway blocking my exit. “We need a truce.”
Our kiss flashed through my head, and my eyes narrowed. “I’m on my way out.”
In answer, he shut my door, then gestured toward one of the chairs in front of my desk. “We’re talking about this.”
Maintaining a calm demeanor even as my heart pounded against my ribcage, I sat and crossed my arms. “Looks like I don’t have a choice, boss.”
He sat with his elbows on his knees, and leaned toward me. “What can I do to make this right?”
Not look so hot, for starters. “You shouldn’t have kissed me.”
His mouth twitched. “You told me to.”
My eyes narrowed. “If you’d mentioned you were the job thief, I wouldn’t have.”
“Look, I get why you’re upset.” He raked a hand through his hair, tousling it in a sexy way. “But we have
to work together. Unless, whatever you have going on with Madison McKenzie is happening sooner rather than later.”
My stomach knotted. “Did you say anything to the partners?”
“No.” He met my eyes. “What you told me was personal, not business. I’m not going to repeat any of it.”
That was actually decent of him. “Charlie let me work independently.”
He nodded. “I know. We had a meeting and he spoke very highly of you.”
I shook my head. “Then why are you requesting these detailed reports on my file? I know what a case is worth. It’s counter-productive when you have me spend time writing a report listing jury verdicts in lawsuits similar to the Somerset case.”
He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’m not trying to micromanage you. I trust you to handle the case, but need you to document the file more thoroughly.”
My shoulders tensed. “Whatever you say.”
“Thank you.” His mouth curved upward, and he straightened. “Give this a chance before you condemn me.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to blink, or turn away. No such luck. “Are we finished?”
“Not by a long shot.” He tilted his chair back so far the front two legs were off the ground. “In fact, I’m not leaving this office until the ice is broken.”
I glanced at my watch. “It’s after five and I still have quite a bit of work to finish up.”
He crossed his arms, then bobbed his chair up and down.
I snatched a paper from my in-box, and scanned the copy invoice waiting for my approval to be paid. Uh-huh. Yep. Looked like we definitely needed those copies Sarah ordered. Was this guy stubborn or what?
“If this is going to take awhile, I’m ordering take-out.” Ryan pulled a cell phone from his pants pocket. “Despite my obvious good nature, I can turn grouchy if I don’t eat regular meals. Sushi sound good to you?”
The corners of my mouth turned downward at the mention of my favorite food. My eyes narrowed as I wondered who had sold me out.
His hazel eyes peered into mine. “Come on, Jill. I’m waving the white flag here.”
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