“Now.”
The syllable was hardly out of BJ’s mouth before I let go. The climax overwhelmed me, and sounds I’d never heard before exploded out of me. My body seized, contracted, and then there was nothing but a weary stillness.
BJ’s last pounding thrusts into me were the hardest yet, but in my post-orgasmic haze I barely responded. I was vaguely aware that she was beside me, reaching her satisfaction on her own. When I heard her cry out, I knew her release had been as powerful as mine.
Every part of me was limp. Worn-out. Exhausted.
I curled into her arms and fell asleep.
*
No one at Chatham & Associates seemed to know quite what to do with me. Omar had been confused enough yesterday when I told him on the phone, and nothing had been resolved since. As soon as I arrived, he excused himself to consult with the other partners.
I waited outside the conference room, feeling rather like a kid sitting outside the principal’s office. My fate was being decided in there, and I wasn’t even afforded a voice in the decision-making.
Finally the time came for me to receive my sentence. A few of the other partners circled behind Omar as he invited me inside. I took a seat at the head of the long table, everyone else facing me like a tribunal about to bring judgment.
Their faces were difficult to read. Had I gotten the firm in trouble? They might be embarrassed if the media picked up on Barbara Tripton’s actions as a scandal. Or they could be annoyed I hadn’t taken greater measures to defend myself.
I braced for disapproval, already coming up with words to defend myself. No one could’ve foreseen what Barbara was going to do. Any one of them would’ve fallen victim to her just like I did.
When Omar spoke, though, his words were far from stern. “Leanne, we were all shocked to hear about what you went through. No lawyer here should have to fear a client, and we’re very glad things didn’t go worse than they did.”
“Thank you.”
“In light of everything that’s happened, we’d like to make you a partner. We’d require discretion about the recent events, of course. Having media attention about this occurrence would be rather unsavory.”
My head began to spin, and I rocked unconsciously from side to side. Omar was offering me everything I’d ever wanted. The title I’d spent half my life working toward. I should’ve been leaping out of my chair and embracing him.
But this was wrong. I wanted partnership based on my own merits, not for some kind of cover-up.
“You’re offering it to me because of what happened?” I asked hollowly.
“Not at all,” Omar was quick to say. Smooth, as always — a model lawyer. “You were already on the right track, and you’d been on it for some time. We’d seen your potential years ago. We simply wanted to wait until you were completely ready.” He paused long enough to let that sink in, then added offhandedly, “Of course, this recent event did expedite the process.”
So it was partly because of getting held hostage by a crazy person. Licking my lips, I tried to think of what to do. My moral compass didn’t point in any one clear direction.
I sat up straighter. “Can you tell me more about the position? It’s an equity partnership, correct?”
“No,” Omar said. “The firm couldn’t survive if every one of us was an equity partner. Only a few of us are.”
“The rest are partner in name only?”
Omar visibly cringed. “I suppose you could put it like that.”
“And what if I were to leave at some point?” I asked. Another place where many partnership agreements fell apart. “Is there any penalty?”
“Yes, actually.” Omar was looking at the table now. “Should you decide to leave, you’d agree to forfeit all your capital contributions from the previous year.”
That… that was a pretty shitty deal. My chest felt like it was about to collapse in on itself. That was what I’d been working for all this time? Not equality, not a level standing with the others — just a chance to be taken advantage of? Again?
I’d been putting my heart and soul into this job for five long years, and for what? The paycheck was nice, yeah, but my employment contract — and certain clients I dealt with — treated me like mud. Why had I ever put up with this for so long?
Being a lawyer was supposed to make me happy. I flashed back to the celebrations after I finished law school and passed the bar exam — when the future looked so hopeful and it felt like my real life was finally starting.
It didn’t, of course. Working here had only put a new goal in front of me, an apple dangling tantalizingly out of my reach. Now I saw that apple was rotten the whole time.
“Excuse me.” I stood up abruptly.
“Where are you going?” Omar asked.
“I’m leaving.” I didn’t turn to look at him. “And I’m never coming back.”
*
“Are you out of your mind?” BJ demanded.
I set Teensy down on the floor. I’d been holding her for about an hour, and she was well past tired of me. BJ had been out at a tutoring gig, though, and I needed someone to hug while I asked myself over and over if I’d done the right thing.
Based on BJ’s initial response, the answer might be “no.” I stayed as calm as I could while I brought her into the living room and explained the details.
“So I don’t know what I’m going to do for the next little while,” I said. “I have enough money in the bank, even if I don’t dip into my retirement accounts. I figure I’ll start over eventually at a firm that treats their employees better — if such a thing exists.”
“Hmm… you’re not going to be working?” She gave me a wicked grin as she put her feet up on the couch. “I guess now’s when you find out if I was really looking for a sugar mommy.”
“Oh, quiet.” I slapped her knee. It was too soon to joke about that. “It wasn’t crazy to do that, though?”
“Impulsive, yes. Out of character, maybe. Crazy… I’d say no.”
That worked well enough for me. I snuggled into her, letting ideas sift through my mind. I’d had a thought the other night, something we’d kidded around about before. It was taking hold inside me, and it didn’t want to go away.
“You know, you were pretty cool and collected under pressure the other night,” I said. “Totally calm when you were talking to Barbara Tripton.”
BJ ran a hand over my shoulder. “So what?”
“Even I was scared,” I said. “I froze up, and even though I had even more information than you, you were the one who came in and spoke to her logically. You talked her out of what she was planning to do.”
“Wait, is this about your I-should-be-a-lawyer thing?”
“Maybe.” I sat up enough to look her in the eye, our bodies entangled in each other’s. “I never quite took myself seriously when I said it before, but maybe both of us should. If you’re going to settle down here with me, you might want something more stable than tutoring.”
“Not law school,” BJ said.
“Why, because of your attention span? You told me that before. Is it really that short?”
“It’s not that I have ADHD or anything like that. This isn’t some Lifetime movie where all you need to do is get me on Ritalin and then I ride off into the sunset, conquering the world with my legal skills.” She laughed self-consciously. “I don't have a short attention span, just not a long one. I mean, it's not the average person who can make it through law school, right? It takes somebody special. Like you.”
“You're special.”
“I used to tell myself that,” she sighed. “When I was a kid, it seemed like the possibilities were endless. Everyone said I was so smart, that I could do anything I wanted, and I bought into it. I used to think I could excel in whatever pursuit I put my mind to.” She affected a British accent for the last part.
I watched her carefully, unsure of what to say.
Bitterness dripped from her voice. “And look at me now.”
“What do you mean? You've been living life on your terms, doing exactly what you want to be doing.”
“Sure, as a hobo. A drifter. An itinerant vagabond.”
I winced at the reminder. “You could be a great lawyer if you wanted to. Ritalin or no Ritalin.”
BJ stared into space without responding.
“Promise me you’ll think about it, at least?”
Her eyes found mine, unguarded and almost timid. “I promise.”
THIRTY — BJ
“What in the hell do supernova events have to do with the law?” I threw the binder to the floor.
Ever patient, Leanne picked it up for me. “The question is an example of logical reasoning. Come on, think about it again. ‘The supernova event of 1987 is interesting in that…’” It took her about ten minutes to read the full question. “‘Which one of the following, if true, most strengthens the argument?’”
I listened to the choices a second time, but they didn’t make any more sense than before. Studying for the LSATs was making my brain hurt.
Leanne had endless amounts of time to spend helping me between my tutoring sessions, and seemingly endless enthusiasm for it. It felt like I was already back in school — a feeling I wasn’t sure if I liked.
“You can get it,” Leanne said. “Think hard now. Is there one you know for sure is wrong?”
“A?”
“That’s right. There’s only four choices left — B, C, D, or E. Want to hear them again?”
“No, I want to get it right and then take a break. Is it E?”
“Exactly!” she exclaimed, depositing herself in my lap to give me a big kiss.
This was the best part of any study session. If it weren’t for her encouragement, I would’ve already given up — not even two weeks after deciding to apply to law school. I hadn’t expected it to be easy, but damn, it was really hard!
“You’re going to get it,” Leanne told me. “All those professors you contacted for references thought you’d make a great lawyer, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah.” In honesty, I was flattered any of them had remembered me at all. Their response, a universal “yes, do it,” had stunned me. The letters they were going to write would be sealed, but more than one had assured me they’d be glowing.
Still, this was a challenge. I was just happy to have Leanne at my side. The way she rooted for me did as much as her actual help.
Things might be even tougher if — when — I actually started law school. I was going to be bringing Leanne my homework questions twenty times a day. She’d promised to stay patient and help me no matter what, especially since she’d kind of talked me into this. Back in the day, she’d graduated at the top of her class.
“I’m never going to get this stuff like you do. It all comes so naturally to you.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She pecked me on the cheek. “What do you call a lawyer who graduates at the bottom of her class?”
She’d told me this a hundred times by now, at least. “A lawyer,” I grumbled. “Which is all well and good, as long as I manage to graduate.”
“You will.”
She curled her arm around my neck and pressed her lips to my earlobe, which instantly had me hardening. Licking my lips, I dragged the hem of her shirt up to touch her waistline. This kind of study break was always my favorite.
Except she’d promised me earlier that she’d tell me a secret if I got twenty questions right. I edged back to the corner of the couch, pushing her off to sit beside me. “Was that my twentieth question yet?” I asked.
“Ah… I wasn’t sure if you were counting.”
“You made it sound mysterious enough earlier. I’m curious.” We never kept secrets from each other.
She gave me a guilty look before glancing at Teensy, who was watching us from her crate. “The thing is, I applied for some jobs.”
All I wanted to do was caress her stomach again… then slip her shirt off, and her pants… “Did you?”
“Yeah, and… I had some interviews over the phone, either when you were sleeping or working.”
I sat up straight, my attention completely on what she was saying now. “Did you get an offer?”
Her cheeks were tinged with pink. “I did. I’m going to go into prosecution. It doesn’t pay as well, but I’ll be putting the bad guys behind bars, and…”
“What?” I couldn’t listen a second longer without jumping up and pulling her along with me. I jumped as I hugged her, forcing both of us into the air before we landed with a crash that made Teensy’s ears shoot up. “That’s amazing, Leanne! You’re going to be an incredible prosecutor!”
She went along with me for a minute, although I could tell she was restraining herself. “There’s more, though.”
That made me stop jumping and go serious. “What now?”
“The job isn’t here,” she said. “I could commute, but it’d make as much sense to sell the condo and get a new place. I don’t know if you had your heart set on going to law school nearby, but…”
Law school at the closest college to Newbank had always been my least favorite part of the plan. The school was among the lesser-known ones in the state, and its academic reputation was supposed to be as bad as its student life. This could actually be a very good turn of events.
“Where is the job, then?”
“In NYC.”
The last syllable had barely come out of her mouth before I whooped again. With the way I was stomping on the floor, Teensy got up and hurried out of the room. “We’re moving to NYC!” I yelled.
Leanne blinked at me. “That’s a good thing?”
“Living in New York rather than Newbank? That’s like asking if I’d rather eat an ice cream-covered waffle or a shit sandwich.”
Now she frowned. “I didn’t know you hated it that much here.”
“I don’t. I love it… because you’re here.” I laced an arm around her and rested my head on her shoulder.
She fell onto the couch, pulling me along with her. Wrapped in each other’s arms, we relaxed for a moment. “I figured you might be happier somewhere more urban,” she said. “New York has more culture, too. And you can take your pick of a few law schools…”
“The ones that are willing to accept me,” I interrupted.
“They all will,” she said. “And I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“I’m very happy,” I told her. “We’ll be able to have more fun there — more spontaneous adventures.”
“And we can make our own home,” she said. “You’ll have equal input instead of moving into a place I’ve already set up.”
“It’ll be perfect.” I put a hand up her shirt again, running my fingers up her back until I found the strap of her bra. I unhooked it deliberately, making my touch light enough that she shivered. “Now, about that study break…”
EPILOGUE — LEANNE
“Careful,” I said. “Careful…”
BJ twisted the cork, shaking her head without looking at me. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. If that thing shoots off and you don’t catch it, it’s going to shatter every last thing in this place, including Teensy.”
The dog perked up at the sound of her name. At ten years old and eighteen pounds, she wasn’t so teensy anymore. We could still carry her around when we wanted, but if she got blinded by a flying champagne cork we’d have to do it all the time.
Considering the size of our place, that was likely to happen. Any bottle-related accidents would have the cork ricocheting off every surface in the three-hundred-square-foot apartment.
“Just go slow,” I said. “There’s no rush. Keep your hand over it.”
BJ rolled her eyes. “You want to do it?”
“No.”
“Then let me pop it my way.” With one final twist, the cork flew off and hit the ceiling. I yelled and ducked, shielding Teensy with my body. But as the projectile came down, BJ stepped up and caught it easily in her hand. “Easy as that.”
&nbs
p; From my new position on the floor, I marveled. “How did you do that?”
“It’s called hand-eye coordination. I do have some talents… other than the obvious.”
I heaved myself up, still short of breath. She’d made the same quip a few times over the years, and I always came back with the same retort. “Perv.”
“That’s why you love me.”
She poured the fizzy liquid into two glasses, clinking hers with mine as soon as I’d calmed myself enough to take it. “To your last conviction.”
“To your last conviction,” I said over her.
We each won cases often enough that it wasn’t much of a reason to splurge on champagne. Living in the heart of New York on two prosecutor’s salaries, things tended to be a bit tight — especially since I insisted twenty percent of each paycheck go into our retirement accounts… and BJ insisted another ten go into our travel fund.
This time, we’d both won important cases on the same day. Two different bad guys were going to jail.
Then both Lacey and Pauline were invited to a sleepover, which rarely happened. They were three years apart, and the friend circles of a six-year-old and a nine-year-old didn’t tend to overlap. However, Pauline’s newest “BFF” had a younger sister Lacey got along with.
We’d decided to take advantage of the night alone to celebrate our recent wins. This could be the last time it was just the two of us until we left on our next romantic getaway. We took two trips a year, one with the kids and one without them. For the upcoming one, we were going to Bora Bora.
I tipped back my glass, still watching BJ. Even after so long, I couldn’t get over how beautiful she was — and that she was mine. I’d worried at first that she might get bored and run away from me, but it hadn’t happened yet.
She understood as well as I did that we completed each other in a way no one else could. We had a diverse circle of friends from every gender, race, and sexuality, but our connection was something unique and priceless.
And after the terrifying experience we’d shared early in our relationship, we’d learned to value each other as irreplaceable.
“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if we’d stayed in Newbank?” I asked.
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