After six months with the firm, I felt gratified by the long, hard hours Scott worked, his attention to detail, and his eagerness to absorb any advice I gave.
Patting the thick file of documents on my desk, I glanced up at Scott, who sat attentively across from me as we went over the Beady file. “You reviewed all the medicals?”
Scott nodded. “Yes, I reviewed them upon receipt. Then again, in entirety, this afternoon.”
My question had been rhetorical. I know Scott Broderick wouldn’t come to my office unprepared. My mouth curved upward in a proud smile for my protégé. All hadn’t been lost at work. I still had one loyal person.
“Why don’t you write up your evaluation?” It was now after five, and the conflict between my parents had left me drained. But, if I gave Scott authorization to settle today, he could attempt to resolve his case first thing in the morning. “We can go over it in an hour.”
Scott responded by checking his watch.
My brows came together in confusion. It was only a few minutes past five and he normally worked as late as I did.
“I’d love to, Jill.” Scott squirmed in his seat. “But Ryan invited a few of us to get together for basketball Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“I see.” Yeah, I saw plenty. While I’d be in here working my tail off, Ryan would be out shooting hoops.
“You know me, Jill. Normally I’d stay late for you but Ryan . . .”
I eyed Scott critically while he continued stumbling out excuses. He’d been turned to the dark side.
As if on cue, my nemesis appeared in my doorway. “Scott? I’ve been looking for you. Ready to head out?”
Scott’s face lit up. “You bet.” He turned back to me awkwardly. “See you tomorrow, Jill?”
I nodded coolly and watched my protégé duck his head, and scurry out of my office. Then I set my stony glare onto the eyes of the enemy.
Ryan cocked an eyebrow. “What’s with the laser eyes?”
I stood and began stacking the medical documents into neat piles. This slacker didn’t deserve a response from me.
He came closer, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You don’t believe in the good of exercise?”
I thrust my hand on my hip. “I happen to work out most days of the week.”
Ryan’s gaze drifted down my body, then back up again with a look so intense it made my knees weak.
“But that’s not the point.” I put a hand on the Beady files to steady myself. “Scott has a very promising future. He doesn’t need any distractions from his work.”
His heated gaze cooled into a look of confusion. “How is basketball going to ruin his career?”
It killed me that he could run the department, and still have time to pal around with co-workers. I’d barely had time for lunch with the girls on Friday due to Ryan’s unnecessary memos and reports.
“Some of us don’t jump off the clock just because it’s five.” I crossed my arms, and leaned back against my desk. “It’s one thing for you not to take your job seriously. But the rest of us don’t have relatives to hand us a job. We need to earn it. Something you obviously wouldn’t understand.”
Ryan’s face grew taut as he shut the door behind him, and stormed over to me. “Just because I wasn’t working at this particular firm my entire career, doesn’t mean I didn’t earn this position. I spent seven years working my way up in San Francisco.”
“Is that how you ease your conscience?” I stared into his sexy hazel eyes that were so heated, I had the strong urge to press my mouth to his. I deserved kudos for resisting.
“My conscience is clear, buttercup.” His face was inches away from mine. “In fact, if I hadn’t gone to San Diego, I would’ve had this exact same job at a much larger firm. Just because you were here first, doesn’t mean I’m not qualified for this position.”
“Is that so?” My blood hummed. How dare he speak to me this way, after he waltzed in, and destroyed everything I’d worked so hard to build. And why did I want to kiss him so badly?
He flattened his hands on my desk, pinning me in so I couldn’t escape if I wanted to (which I didn’t). “What bothers you more, Jill? The fact that I got the job? Or that I can do it as well as you could, and still have a life?”
I flinched, feeling like he’d struck me. “I have a life.”
He leaned closer, eyeing my mouth. “That’s not what I hear.”
“Been asking about me, have you?” I swallowed, trying to keep my expression level, so he’d have no idea how he affected me. Inside, my heart was pounding. I clenched my hands, so the trembling wouldn’t give me away, as he bent toward me. . . .
Beep! Beep! The intercom on my phone gave two cheerful beeps. “Jill? Is Ryan still in there? The guys are waiting in the lobby for him,” Scott said.
Ryan paused, as if waiting to see what I’d do.
I cleared my throat. “He’ll be right out.”
The intercom beeped off.
Ryan didn’t move away, though. His mouth stayed so close to mine, that I could feel the heat from his skin pulse against me as I breathed in his dark, musky scent. “You drive me insane,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.
I tilted my head, then lifted my lashes. “The guys are waiting.”
He leaned toward my ear, his whisper tickling my skin. “Don’t work too late, buttercup.”
My jaw tightened as he smirked, straightened, then slipped out of my office. And I stared after him, breathless—thinking I needed to start playing basketball.
* * *
After Zumba class, I folded into a pike position on the mat, at my gym, Totally Fit. Usually I worked out in the morning, but I needed to burn off tension from my encounter earlier with Ryan in my office. Mission accomplished.
Well, except for a few lingering impulses.
I stretched forward far enough to reach behind my toes, then I pulled them toward me. My calf muscles yelped with pain before they slowly started to loosen. I peered over at Ginger. “How was your day?”
Ginger sighed. “Victor and I were supposed to see that new Bradley Cooper film, but he canceled for sports night.”
Seeing the disappointment across her face tugged at my heart strings. “I’m sorry he’s not reliable. I know you like him.”
Tears filled her eyes, then she blinked them away. “He’s so not an asset.”
“That’s right.” Pressing my nose toward my knee, I had a brilliant idea. “Let’s go to the lounge at the Geoffries hotel Friday night. No men. No sports.”
“No brainer.” She wiggled her shoulders, and bumped her fists in the air. “Let’s invite your friend, Sarah. She’s such a sweetheart.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I flattened my stomach against my thighs, thinking how nice it was working out with a friend.
“How was work?” Ginger asked.
In an instant, I pictured Ryan’s heated expression as he had me pinned against the desk. “Ryan’s infuriating. He’s started a basketball team after work Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“You mean they work out?” Ginger scanned the room with a frantic expression. “Oh, the horror.”
I tossed her a give-me-a-break look.
Ginger giggled. “You’ve got it bad for this guy, don’t you?”
“You’re way off.” I straddled my legs, then leaned toward the mat. “Besides, it’s hard to think about dating when my parents might be getting divorced.”
She sat upright, eyes wide in surprise. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”
I pushed to my feet, stunned to find myself eager to share with her. “My mom’s always been the responsible one, whereas my dad’s driven to play. But when he came home from hiking in the Andes the other day, she told him it’s over.”
Ginger glanced at me as we headed for the locker room. “That sounds so sudden. Were they having problems?”
“I’ve never heard my mom complain about my dad. Ever.” I pushed the locker room door open, and waited for a woman to pass by as she came out.
“You know what’s weird? I keep thinking about something Kristen told me. That if you’re only doing one thing with your life and it goes badly, you crack.”
Her brows shot up. “Remind me to diversify.”
I shook my head, and dialed my lock combination. “Kristen thinks I need less work and more fun in my life.”
She held her hands out. “We’re going out Friday night. That’s fun, and totally non-work related.”
My fingers froze on the lock dial, and I twisted in her direction. “You’re right.”
I felt the smile spread across my face as I realized I’d achieved what Kristen had told me to do. I was having fun. Then my brows came together. She’d only given me one goal and now she was gallivanting around Italy.
What was I supposed to do next?
Chapter Six
I arrived early to work the next morning, to catch up since I’d left early yesterday. Well, early for me. I turned on my computer and clicked my mouse to check emails. There were a few letters from clients, one from Human Resources regarding the proper forms for vacation requests, and then my arrow froze over an email from Ryan Shaw dated today at 7:01.
He’d come to work before me? That was surprising. With a swift move of the mouse, I highlighted the email, then double clicked.
Jill,
See file for memorandum on yesterday’s Status Conference. I assigned a new client’s case to Scott Broderick. Hope you’re feeling better today.
Ryan
I tapped my finger on the mouse pad, and debated whether or not to reply. Oh, please. I immediately typed my response:
Ryan,
Thanks for your concern, but I felt fine yesterday. BTW, one does not need to bounce a ball to have a life.
Jill
Ha. Take that! Leaning back in my chair, a satisfied smile spread across my face—until I heard my computer chirp.
Jill,
Bouncing a ball doesn’t make one unfit to run a legal department. BTW, nobody scowled at me during the game. A refreshing change.
Ryan
My brows immediately came together. Realizing I was scowling, I tried to relax them to no avail.
Ryan,
Telling one they drive you insane doesn’t exactly evoke an urge to smile at you.
Jill
My eyes narrowed as I stared at the computer screen, waiting for his response. I knew how to have fun. Just because I took my work seriously, didn’t mean I had no life.
Jill,
You’re scowling now. Aren’t you?
Ryan
Argh! As I tried to relax my brows, I considered that Ryan could possibly be the most annoying man alive. Yes, he definitely was. My gaze fell to the desk where I remembered him pinning me against it, and the hot wanting look in his hazel eyes. I pressed my hands to my temples. “Stop!”
A noise rustled in the doorway. Sarah entered and dropped mail into my in-box. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Sorry, it’s just . . .” I closed out my emails, so she wouldn’t inadvertently see them. “Nothing. How are you?”
The phone rang but I let it go to voicemail.
Sarah eyed me suspiciously. “That could’ve been a client.”
I held my hands up. “You act like I’m work-obsessed, but I’m not. I’m a changed woman. In fact, Ginger and I want to invite you out with us Friday night.”
She blinked, then started nodding. “I like this new you. I’m in.”
“It’s a date.” As soon as she left, I swiveled back to my screen, and opened my emails.
Jill,
I’ll take that as a yes.
Ryan
Re-reading his email, I shook my head, but found myself smiling.
* * *
At exactly five o’clock, I packed up my briefcase. Leaving on time would prove that I had a life, and Ryan wouldn’t know I’d taken work home. As I squeezed files into my large briefcase, I suddenly remembered I hadn’t checked my voicemail. How had I managed a full day without checking voicemail? One vow to have fun and my methodization was all out of whack.
I shut my door, then pressed the button for speakerphone, dialed my voice box and tapped out my password. The first message rang out from Madison.
“Hi, Jill. It’s Madison McKenzie. I spoke with my partners and we want to bring you in next week for an official interview. I’m in court for trial Monday through Wednesday, so let me know if you’re free in the afternoon on Thursday or Friday. On a side note, my husband and I are going dancing at The Oasis tomorrow night. Trying to enjoy the nightlife while we still can.” She chuckled. “If you and Ryan aren’t busy, maybe you can stop by? I’d love to introduce you both to Dan. Look forward to hearing from you.”
I bit my thumbnail, then jotted down notes on my legal pad for the next several messages from clients. With my pen poised over the lined yellow paper, I listened as my mom’s voice filled the room.
“Jill, it’s Mom. Dad left me a message that you’re worried, but don’t be. I’m in Arizona. I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, and now I have. It’s breathtaking, honey. I can’t believe I waited this long to go. Not sure where I’m off to next, but I can guarantee one thing: I will not be calling your father. I’m sorry about your losing the promotion. Maybe you need a vacation, too. Call if you want to join me. Love you.”
My throat tightened as I dropped down into my chair, and gazed out the window. My mom had gone bonkers. She’d completely lost it. Was that what I was doing from working too much, too? Unable to stop them, hot tears slipped down my cheeks.
Why had I been passed over? Because Jim Shaw decided to hire his nephew when Personal Injury wasn’t even his department. It was Stan Corbett’s. The least he could’ve done was bring his nephew in to help with his own responsibilities.
Maybe I’d been taking the wrong angle, blaming Ryan. I mean, I’d completely overlooked the people who’d handed the promotion to him. My blood boiled.
Sure, Ryan had a couple years of experience on me, but I’d worked like a slave for Stan’s P.I. Department for five years. And this was how he paid me back? Dropping my head to my hand, my face crumpled, and my tears streamed.
What was the best way to handle this? I swiped my cheeks, and sniffed. There was no way they’d ever transfer the position to me now that Ryan was here. That much was clear. But I needed to feel respected as a lawyer—make that as a person. Grabbing a tissue, I dabbed under my eyes, and blew my nose.
Then, before I could change my mind, I typed up an email to Stan Corbett, requesting to speak with him privately. In the Re caption I wrote IMPORTANT, then pointed the arrow to SEND and double-clicked. A meeting with Stan to give him a piece of my mind. In a professional way, of course. I still had my dignity, and might need a reference letter. And I’d have until the meeting to decide what to demand as a consolation prize.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
My head whipped up at the sound of someone rapping on my door. I glanced at the clock, saw that it was after six, and wondered who could still be here.
“Come in.” I clicked on the appropriate boxes to shut down my computer, before turning to see who’d entered my office.
Ryan strode in, wearing the same blue polo shirt and khaki pants he’d had on the day Stan handed him my promotion. Had that really only been ten days ago? It seemed like much longer.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “May I come in?”
“Nice that you’re asking this time.” I swiveled in his direction, remembering my resolution to take it easy on him and direct my anger toward the partners who’d sold me out. I folded my hands in my lap. “What can I do for you?”
He stopped by the side of my desk, then hopped up to sit on the surface, and turned to me. Leaning forward, he gazed into my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I tilted my head sideways, worried I’d left a streak of mascara. “Nothing.”
His eyes clouded. “Is this because of the job? Be honest.”
“No.” I gave him a firm look
, then sucked in a deep breath. “My parents are separating. I just got a voicemail from my mother,” I said, because I didn’t want to hound him about the promotion anymore, and also because it was true.
“Man, that’s rough.” His brows came together. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” I nodded, then fiddled with a highlighter from my desk. “I didn’t see it coming. They seemed . . . fine. Not really happy, because their relationship’s always seemed lopsided, with my mom doing all the work.” When I got married, it would be an equal partnership. We’d be a team. Wait, since when had I started thinking about marriage? Had I slipped into PML?
“It was the opposite in my household.” With his legs dangling off the desk, he leaned onto his thighs, and peered over at me. “My mom had stayed at home, and seemed unhappy because she didn’t have any goals. I wish she would’ve had a drive in something she loved. That’s one of the things I admire about you.”
“What?” My life was in shambles, or hadn’t he noticed?
He gaped at me, as if I were crazy. “The fiery passion you put into your career. To help people, and make a difference. It’s more than getting by for a paycheck. You’ve invested yourself. Your dedication has impressed me from the start.”
Embarrassed and shy from his declaration, I twisted the cap on the highlighter pen. “If only my dad had some of that passion in him.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “Finding balance can be a challenge. It’s good to have goals, but not to the point that you don’t really live.”
“Anyway . . .” Since he’d just summed up my past five-plus years, I had the sudden revelation I’d been insulted. “You didn’t come to my office to hear about my problems. Which case did you want to talk about?”
“I didn’t mean anything bad by what I said.” Shaking his head, he slid off the desk, then gestured toward me. “Stand up.”
My brows came together as I popped to my feet, checking my chair behind me for a spider or creepy insect. “I don’t see anything,” I said, then turned around.
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