by Kim Linwood
I still don’t regret it, even knowing who he is and what a jerk he can be. That night was exactly what I’d needed to start getting past Michael’s betrayal. So I’m trying to cut myself some slack for getting all hot and bothered about my step-boss even though my illusions about what a great guy he was were crushed pretty hard back in his office. I was in a low spot and he helped me. It’s natural to react to him.
But it can’t happen again, for like eleventy billion reasons.
One of which is crumpled up on my desk.
I glance out the window to the common area. People are moving around, talking and working together. It’s quiet in here, which I guess is good. It helps me concentrate, but I’m isolated. Just me, my documents and a way-too-hot-for-his-own-good jerk with some sort of chip on his shoulder, and who won’t shut up over the intercom. Maybe there’s an off switch somewhere.
I’m still searching for it when he comes out the door.
“Mr. Riordan,” I say sweetly with my biggest, fakest smile.
His cocky smirk widens. “Give it a rest, Claire. Weekly status meeting time. Lesson number one of corporate life: there’s always another meeting. Pull your gorgeous ass out of your chair and come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you can explain what’s up with this case.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “We’re protecting a corporation’s systematic mistreatment of its employees. That can’t possibly be right.”
He arches an eyebrow at me in surprise. “What’s up with it? They hired us to defend them. Money goes out of their accounts.” He wiggles his fingers through the air. “And into ours.” Cocking his head, he gives me an amused look. “Look, we’re not Green-fucking-peace. We need to make a living. Are you backing down already, just because your first case isn’t to your taste?”
“But—But what if we win?” Is money really all he cares about?
“We get paid.” He shrugs. “If you’re looking to be a crusader of morality and all that is good, you picked the wrong profession, babe. I told you this wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe you should have listened.”
I glare at him, but his back’s already to me as he leaves the room. I scramble to catch up. There’s no way I’m letting him make me look bad on my first day. Our discussion’s going to have to wait.
Carl gives me a wink and a nod as we pass his desk, then we head down a corridor past the elevators. Declan glances at his watch and picks up the pace.
The meeting room is packed, and every single eye turns to watch us come in. I’ve never done well with crowds, and the way they’re staring, you’d think I’d just walked in naked. I have to catch myself so I don’t check if I actually did.
Though I’m sure Declan would have told me, a time or ten.
At the head of the table sits Garrett Riordan. In the same room together, it’s obvious he and Declan are father and son. Same black hair, dark blue eyes and broad build. Same impatience. There are only two empty chairs around the large oval table, and he gestures to them. “Try to be on time next time, Declan.” The steel in his deep gravelly voice makes it clear it’s not a suggestion.
“Sorry. Guess the old intercoms aren’t as reliable as I thought.” Declan shrugs while I catch myself before I roll my eyes with everyone watching.
“Alright, let’s get started before we waste more time.” Garrett gets straight to business, just as I remember him. “I’m sure you’ve all heard that Ms. Claire Anderson is joining us for the summer.”
I nod at his words, acknowledging them. Others around the table nod as well. We’re like a bunch of bobble heads.
“She recently graduated with a Political Science degree and a 3.9 average. In the fall, she’s starting Law at Stanford. She’s obviously talented and she’s here to get a leg up. I expect she’ll work hard at it.”
With a stern glance in my direction that makes me sink into my chair like I’m already in trouble, he pauses meaningfully. Was that “leg up” comment about me and Declan? He can’t know, right? I half expect him to continue with, “Also, she’s fucked my son.”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Next to me, Declan scribbles something on a notepad that he grabbed off the table. While his dad addresses the rest of the room, he slides it over so I can read. I’ll totally help you get a leg up. Maybe even both.
I look away, making a point of ignoring him. He’d be insufferable if he knew that had been my first thought too. I focus on Garrett, trying not to imagine my legs anywhere near his son.
“Ms. Anderson will be assisting Declan on the Cooper Holdings case. It’ll be a challenging place for her to begin, and maybe she can help Declan keep his focus.” This time the stern look settles squarely on Declan, who meets it with a set jaw and an obstinate expression.
There’s something going on between them that I don’t know about, that’s obvious, but the moment passes and his gaze comes back to me. For the first time, I see him smile, but it’s thin-lipped and grim. “Welcome to Riordan & Flynn, Ms. Anderson. I trust you won’t squander this opportunity.”
Yike, he’s got the stern stepfather look down, and he’s not even my stepfather yet.
There are scattered welcomes from the others around the table, and then introductions are done. Garrett starts the meeting proper, asking short, probing questions about the status of various cases. The attendees hang on his every word, jumping to attention when his focus lands on them.
Much as I try to keep up, it’s impossible without knowing what their cases are about. It’s not long before the meeting is just a dull buzz while I try to look interested. I don’t think anyone even remembers I’m here.
Well, one person does.
A hand touches my thigh, making me jump. Glancing over at Declan, I furrow my brow and try to get his attention without being obvious. He’s looking straight ahead, pretending to keep up with the discussion, but his hand strokes me softly. I don’t know what to do. There isn’t much I can do without drawing attention to myself.
Sliding down towards my knees, his palm feels impossibly hot, even through my skirt. I try to move my leg, but his strong grip locks around my thigh, keeping me in place.
I sigh and stay put. I’m not going to jeopardize my first day here by disturbing my first meeting, but he’s going to get an earful afterwards.
His hand goes back to stroking, softly and quietly. It feels good, much as I hate to admit it, because I’m so freaking furious with him right now. This internship isn’t a joke.
Garrett and a sandy-haired attorney get into a discussion on a billing situation, but I’m mostly concerned about how Declan lightly tugs at my skirt. Luckily it’s a pencil skirt, so he can’t get up underneath easily, and I’m certainly not doing anything to encourage him. What the hell is he thinking?
My skin tingles. My body doesn’t care, not about the meeting, or about him being a jerk. I’ve spent so many nights since that first one thinking about his touch. It was never supposed to be like this, but that doesn’t keep me from getting wet. I try to shift, but he pinches me. I let out a little gasp and slap at his fingers.
Garrett turns to me with raised eyebrows. “Are you alright, Ms. Anderson?”
“Yes,” I reply way too quickly. He has to know something’s up. “Just a twitch. I’m sorry.” Declan’s hand pats me, as if to say good girl.
I’m so going to get him for this.
Surprisingly enough, Garrett and the others return to their discussion as if I’m not a horrible, red-faced liar. Letting my breath out slowly and quietly, I center myself. I’ll get through this, and then afterwards, I’m going to find an open window and throw Declan out of it.
His hand inches its way up my leg, but my skirt won’t budge unless I lift my ass off the chair, and no matter what he does, that’s not happening. No way. Still, his fingertips are tantalizingly close.
Okay, I just have to get through this. Iron will. Show no reaction.
He’ll give up eventually, and the meeting will end
. I just have to save the highly inappropriate thoughts that are racing through my mind right now for when I get home. And not, you know, beg him to take me over the meeting table in front of everyone. Which would be completely wrong and inappropriate, not hot and amazing.
“Good work, team. See you again next week.”
I’ve totally zoned out. The meeting’s over and I hardly noticed. Declan pulls his hand away quickly and I glance around to see if anyone saw us. It doesn’t seem that way.
As we rise, Garrett waves us over. “Hang on a sec, I want to talk to you two.”
Oh crap. Never mind. He saw. Or he’s figured something out. Or I’ve done something else wrong. I close my eyes briefly, draw a short breath and prepare to face the music. “Yes, Sir.”
“I see you two have met. Everything alright so far? I’m a little skeptical about having you work together. Rumors of favoritism and all that, but I trust you know that means you need to work even harder than usual. Annette insisted it’d be good for you, but I don’t want to have to explain anything to your co-workers, or your clients.” He glowers at the both of us.
“N—No, Sir. Of course not.” God, I can’t even talk to him without stammering. Is this what Declan will be like in twenty-five years?
Declan doesn’t have any such problems. “What, afraid we’ll embarrass you? What could possibly happen? We’ll work great together, and bond in the process. That’s your plan, right?” Declan shrugs with his arms out, like he’s saying who, me? “Wouldn’t want to risk me scaring away another potential wife.”
“That’s enough, Declan. I’ve already alerted Annette to your antics.”
Antics? Who says that? Garrett, apparently. And what has Declan done in the past? I look at him curiously, but he ignores me.
“Give me a little credit, I’m not fifteen anymore. Claire seems nice enough, so maybe Annette’s more alright than I give her credit for.” He’s saying the right words, but I don’t trust a single one of them.
Garrett glances back and forth between us as if he’s trying to see if there’s something going on, but I keep my face blank. No Sir, I totally haven’t had sex with your son.
Today.
He nods. “Good. I expect encouraging news about your progress next week.” Then, without another word, he walks out of the room, leaving just Declan and me.
“Yes, Sir,” Declan replies sarcastically once his dad’s out of earshot.
I smack Declan as hard as I can on the arm. “What the hell was that? In the middle of the meeting? Are you trying to ruin my career before it’s even started?”
“Oh, come on. Just a little harmless fun. These meetings get so fucking boring.” He rubs his arm. “You’ve got a mean right hook, by the way. I haven’t boxed in a while, but I can pull out my gloves. Did you fight?”
“Nah. Catholic school.”
“Jesus Christ,” he laughs.
“Exactly.”
“Come on, I’ll buy you lunch. There’s a fucking terrible cafeteria downstairs.” He puts his broad hand right at the small of my back, guiding me towards the door. I hate how much even that simple touch makes me tingle. And I’m supposed to work with him this whole summer?
I eye Declan doubtfully. “So now you’re being polite? What’s the catch? I’m not sitting next to you this time.”
“Trust me, making you eat at the cafeteria’s punishment enough. Besides, I can do my thing from across the table too.”
Claire
“Mom, how can you even think about marrying him?”
Obviously I’m not getting something, because she doesn’t seem nearly as outraged at the prospect of marrying a man whose law firm is defending the people responsible for Dad’s suicide as I think she should be. I thought there was no way she could’ve known, but when I told her, she wasn’t surprised.
She sips her latte, weighing her words. Around us, the sidewalks are packed and the noise of traffic fills the air, but somehow we’ve got the whole outside seating area at the café to ourselves. It’s not exactly quiet or private, but there’s nobody around to listen to us talk about what needs to be said.
I called her as soon as I left work. This is a huge deal, for both of us.
“Honey.” She sighs, not meeting my gaze. “It’s complicated.”
“Which part is complicated? Tell me.” My tone’s crasser than it should be, but after a long day with Declan poring over this stupid case when all I wanted to do was scream. I’m on edge. “Neither of us should be anywhere near this. It’s wrong!”
Her lips pull into a thin line. She’s angry. “Sometimes I miss how black and white things were when I was your age. Right or wrong. Good or evil.”
I try not to lash out, and fail. “Stop patronizing me. I’m not stupid.”
My mother puts down her cup, and her expression hardens. “I never said you were. But you are young and inexperienced. Sometimes there are a lot more gray tones in a picture than it might seem at first.”
I hate this. I hate that I’m fighting with the one person who has always supported me, but how do I just shrug and accept that my mother is literally sleeping with the enemy? Garrett’s my boss, which is bad enough, but what’s her excuse?
“So explain it to me? You loved Dad. I know you did.” My voice begs for her to make this make sense.
She smiles sadly, and I can’t deny the pain I see behind her eyes. “I still do, and I always will. He gave me you, and we had many wonderful years together. He’ll always have a piece of my heart, but sweetheart, he’s gone.”
“And it was Cooper who took him away from us!” I focus on the cars driving by. It’s too hard to look at her while we talk about this.
“They played a part,” she responds quietly.
“A part? He’d still be alive if it wasn’t for that job.” I know that truth in every fiber of my being.
“You’re right. He’d probably be alive.” She pauses and picks her cup back up, but doesn’t drink. “But we’d still be divorced, and he’d still be troubled.”
I shake my head in denial, but she doesn’t let up.
“Claire, you blame them for everything, and there was never a reason to tell you differently, but if you think about it, you know your father’s problems didn’t begin and end with his job. Cooper Senior was a decent man working with tight budgets. Your father respected him or he wouldn’t have stayed on so long. His son isn’t nearly the man he was, and it showed as soon as he took over.”
She sighs. “I’ll never deny that the job pushed him over the edge, but your father was drinking even before he got sick, and nobody forced him to give up therapy, or to abandon his family. My career was taking off when it got bad. He could’ve walked away when the tremors started, but he chose to stay. He liked things the way they were, with both his department and his family depending on him. One or the other,” Mom lifts a shoulder in a sad sort of shrug, “He probably could have adjusted to, but losing both of those set him adrift.”
“He loved us.” My voice comes out small and weak. I feel like a little girl again and I don’t want to hear what she’s saying. I don’t want to remember the fights they had when I was in bed, or the nights he spent away.
She nods, and her eyes are shining with tears just like mine. “He did, and I don’t want you to ever doubt that. Something in him was broken, baby, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Mom draws in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “I disagreed with your father back then, but still loved and stayed with him as long as I could. I disagree with Garrett now, but it’s not going to stop me from loving him, or marrying him. This isn’t our fight anymore.”
For several long moments we’re both quiet. This conversation was probably years in the making. As an adult I can understand how being married to Dad would’ve been hard on her, but he was my father. He’ll always be my hero. She may have put it behind her, but I’m not sure I can so easily dismiss feeling like a traitor for defending Cooper Holdings.
“Do you really love Ga
rrett?” I ask, changing the subject.
Mom smiles a little self-consciously. “You don’t see him like I do. I know he seems like a hard man, but yes, I love him, and he cherishes me. Don’t judge him without knowing him. We’ve both seen our share of loss. He needs someone soft to come home to, where he can let his guard down.
“If we’re being completely honest? I would rather he throw the case in their face and walk away, but he’s not his company. We’ve talked about it, he knows my feelings, and sometimes when you love someone, you have to look beyond the black and white.”
“I’m not sure I can.” Either with the case, or Declan.
“I can’t tell you what to do. You’re too big for that now.” She reaches over and grabs my hand. “But my advice, if you want to hear it, is to keep an open mind and use this as an opportunity to learn. This case isn’t yours. It’s Declan’s, and he’s going to have to live with whatever choices he makes.”
I snort. “If you know him, you know he couldn’t care less.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t believe that, and if you do, I don’t think you know him as well as you think you do. From what I’ve seen, he’s very much like his father. They aren’t easy men, but their feelings run deep.”
“I don’t think he likes us.” How can my mother defend a jerk like him?
Mom’s laugh comes out more like a snort. “Of course he doesn’t. I think it’s more me than you though, sweetie. I’m not his mother,” she says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “But I am yours, and I know that no matter what you choose, you’ll find a way to make something good out of it. Even if that means learning the ins and outs of Cooper Holdings so you can nail them to the wall next time around.”
I give her a lopsided grin. “So that’s your angle.”
She smiles, eyes glowing with pride. “I know my girl.”
For the first time since reading the case, I start to feel like things might eventually be okay. When I invited Mom to meet me, a part of me had wanted to make her as angry as I’d been. I’d felt suckered into a situation I hadn’t been ready for, but somehow she’s managed to make me feel better. I guess that’s what mothers are for.