Rascal

by Katie McCoy

  “I might go use the powder room.” I glanced around. “Do you have a map that could get me there?”

  Hayley laughed. “It’s down at the end of the hall. Make a left and then another left and then a right.”

  I stared at her. “Are you sure you don’t have a map?”

  The house was even bigger than I had originally thought. The hall that Hayley sent me down seemed to go on forever, and when I finally reached the end I had almost forgotten the directions I had been given.

  “A left and then a right and then another right?” I muttered to myself, opening the door I found.

  It didn’t lead to the powder room. Instead, it opened up into a gorgeous study where the walls were lined with expensive—and old—looking books. I stepped inside before I could stop myself. It was by far the most beautiful room I had seen so far.

  “May I help you?” a voice asked, and I spun around to find a silver-haired man sitting behind a desk, smoking a cigar.

  “I’m so sorry,” I told him, my hand to my chest. “I was looking for the powder room.”

  “A few doors down,” the man said, getting up and putting out his cigar. “Though I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Henry Hayes.”

  “You’re Emerson’s father,” I said needlessly, immediately seeing the resemblance. Especially when he smiled—which he did just now. Father and son had matching dimples.

  “I am,” he said, coming around from behind his desk. “And you are?”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” I felt unbelievably rude. “I’m a friend of Emerson’s. Alex Matthis.” I held out my hand and he shook it.

  He had a firm handshake.

  “Ah yes,” he said, leaning back against the desk. “My wife mentioned that Emerson would be bringing someone. You’re a lawyer, am I right?”

  “Very nearly,” I told him, surprised that he knew that much about me. “I’m just waiting on my bar results.”

  “Where do you work?” Henry wanted to know.

  “I’m at Patricks, Richmond & Garrison,” I said, gratified when his smile grew.

  “Excellent firm.” He nodded approvingly. “You must be very talented for them to have snatched you up at such a young age. How long have you been there for?”

  “Not long,” I confirmed. “I’m one of their summer associates.”

  “I know some of the partners,” he told me. “And we’re always on the look-out for new representation. Maybe I should take another look at Patricks, Richmond & Garrison now that I know the high quality of their employees.”

  I was flattered beyond belief. This was exactly what Lucinda—and Arthur—had encouraged, and I hadn’t even really had to do anything.

  “I’m sure the partners would love to meet with you,” I somehow managed.

  “I’ll set up a meeting next week,” Henry said as if it was nothing. “Now tell me a little more about yourself. And your relationship with my son.”

  I felt a little like I had been put in the hot seat, but Henry seemed curious and friendly.

  “I live in the same building as his bar,” I told him. “That’s how we met.”

  “Ah yes, the bar.” Henry crossed his arms and regarded me. “How is that enterprise?”

  “It’s wonderful.” I was happy to talk about that. “The opening went better than expected, and people are already raving about it. Looks like it’s going to become a neighborhood staple in no time.”

  “Really?” Henry sounded surprised, which didn’t make any sense to me.

  Did he not know his son? Because Emerson’s drive and ambition were immediately obvious. I never had a doubt in my mind that the bar would be a success, whereas Henry seemed to have never even considered that possibility.

  “And it’s making money?” Henry wanted to know.

  I didn’t know how to answer.

  “You’ll have to ask Emerson,” I demurred.

  “Of course,” he said, and I got the feeling I was being dismissed.

  I didn’t mind. I still had to find the powder room after all, and after I left Emerson’s father, I managed to successfully locate it. Then, it was only a question of finding Emerson back in the crowd.

  Thankfully, he found me first.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, as he linked his hand with mine and began pulling me towards the staircase, despite the fact that it had a little rope and sign strung across it—a sign that said Do Not Enter.

  “But—” I pointed at the sign, but he ignored it, stepping over it and urging me to do the same.

  “I used to live here, remember?” he said, leading me up the stairs. “I think I’m allowed to go to my old room.”

  We reached the doors at the end of the hall, and Emerson pulled me inside. It was dark, but I didn’t care, because Emerson was already kissing me ravenously. He pushed me against the door, his hands slipping inside my dress and cupping my breasts, his thumbs sliding over my nipples. I moaned at the contact—loving the way it felt.

  But there was something different about the way he was kissing me. It was tense and ragged, like he was trying to forget something.

  “Are you OK?” I asked, pulling away.

  He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing heavily.

  “This place,” he sighed. “It makes me crazy.”

  I didn’t understand. So far, everything had been so lovely. Everyone had been polite, and people had seemed so happy to see him. His father especially had been very welcoming. But clearly, there was something that Emerson wasn’t telling me.

  “We can go,” he told me, his hands on my hips. “We can just sneak out the back. Hayley will make an excuse for us if anyone notices—but I’m sure they won’t.”

  “We haven’t even seen your mother,” I reminded him, not wanting to be rude. Some first impression it would be to sneak off before dinner. “We can’t leave without saying hello.”

  Emerson sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

  He stepped back and straightened his shirt, and I took the opportunity to look around the room. It was another scene straight out of a magazine, blue plaid wallpaper on the walls and a nautical theme, with a cozy window seat just made for reading. I could picture him here, the safe, happy childhood he must have enjoyed.

  “Your family has a boat?” I asked, looking at the photographs.

  Emerson nodded, leaning back against the door. “The Magnificent Hayes, they called it.” There was a dismissive note in his voice, but I could only think how lucky he’d been.

  I browsed the framed photographs.

  Family trips. All to beautiful, incredible locations—Paris, London, Milan. Places I had always dreamed about going but never imagined I would ever be able to get to. Emerson had lived a life I could only hope for, and here he was turning his back on it—literally.

  I didn’t really understand. I knew that every family had its tensions, but Portia and Henry seemed nice, if maybe a little distant, and they clearly seemed to care about their children. Why would Henry have asked about the bar otherwise? Obviously he wanted to know about Emerson’s life.

  “Let’s just stay for another hour,” I suggested. “I mean, we’re here, we might as well enjoy the food.”

  “You really want to stay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “It would feel rude not to,” I said with a shrug. “Besides, if we stay now, then I’ll make sure to show you a good time later.”

  He grinned. “How good of a good time?” he wanted to know.

  I leaned into him, pressing my body against his. He groaned.

  “A really, really good time,” I promised.

  17

  Alex

  I made good on my promise to show Emerson a good time. We lost ourselves in each other that night. Lost ourselves so much that I forgot to set an alarm and overslept. I had barely enough time to shove Emerson out the door, get dressed, and head to work before anyone could notice that I wasn’t at my desk as early as usual.

  I was just turning on my computer when Lucinda came over
with a sour look on her face. Bryce was trailing behind her, wearing a similar expression. They seemed tense and short-tempered, even for them.

  “Where have you been?” Lucinda hissed.

  Whoops. Guess my tardiness hadn’t gone unnoticed. Did this mean I would have to limit my sleepovers with Emerson? The thought disappointed me, but I also knew that I couldn’t afford any other late mornings. And he was awfully tempting—doing a very good job of keeping me distracted.

  “Did I miss something?” I asked, avoiding the question.

  “No,” Lucinda snipped. “But you know what happens this week, don’t you?”

  I wracked my brain to figure out what she was talking about. We didn’t have any important cases going to trial that week, and besides the gala we were all required to attend this weekend, I couldn’t think of anything else that would have both Bryce and Lucinda on edge.

  “Unbelievable.” Lucinda shot a look in Bryce’s direction, as if I was being a complete moron.

  “The bar results are out this week,” he informed me.

  Shit. I had totally forgotten.

  “I assume you know what that means.” Lucinda’s voice was tight and shrill.

  It meant that if one of us failed that bar, we were automatically out of the running for the associate position—and any job as a lawyer, anywhere. At least until we’d retaken the bar and passed. I hadn’t even considered that Lucinda and Bryce would be nervous about their results, but they both looked like they were waiting on terrible news.

  “I’m not worried,” I said, hoping I sounded like I believed what I was saying.

  I apparently did not, because Bryce snorted at my show of faith and walked away. Lucinda, on the other hand, just seemed to get more pinched and pale.

  “You’re not getting the associate position,” she told me, almost like she was trying to convince herself.

  I looked at her, but I didn’t say anything. I knew enough about my co-worker to know that showing any sort of fear or nervousness would only hurt my standing with her. So I just stared back at her. What did she think she was going to accomplish? Eyeball me long enough that I’d just give up and quit? She obviously didn’t know me half as well as I knew her. I wasn’t giving up. I never would.

  And she blinked first.

  It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I turned my attention back to my work, doing my best to ignore her. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she finally threw up her hands and walked away.

  But her visit had rattled me. The fact that both her and Bryce were so nervous about getting their results made me nervous about my own. Studying for the test had consumed my whole life; I’d barely come up for air for months before the exams. But the minute I walked out of the testing hall, I had done my best to put it out of my mind. I had done all I could do up to that point and reasoned that worrying about my results would only stress me out. So I had focused on my work, and that had turned out OK.

  Except now, all I could think about was the results. And I really didn’t have time for another distraction. Emerson was bad enough, but stressing about something I had no control over was even worse.

  It was late in the afternoon when we were all called into a meeting with Laney. We had managed to get that temporary restraining order on her soon-to-be ex-husband after he had drained their joint account, but now his lawyers were offering to accelerate the divorce proceedings if our client took less than a fifty-fifty split of their assets.

  I sat at the edge of the room, taking notes while Arthur explained the offer to our client. She looked exhausted, and I could only imagine the toll the whole ordeal was taking on her. She had been dragged through the mud by her ex—not just via lawyers, but in the press as well. No doubt she was getting tired of hearing herself referred to as a gold-digger slut.

  It obviously didn’t matter to anyone that it was her husband who had cheated—and with his secretary, no less—and that she was only asking for what was rightfully hers. The whole thing was terribly unfair, and I found myself secretly annoyed that the partners were recommending that she take the settlement. She deserved better.

  “The partners and I have gone over the offer, and we think it is worth considering. It is the best option if you are looking to end this whole ordeal quickly,” Arthur was telling her. “You’d be able to cover your expenses and have a nice nest egg to start over. Leave all of this behind.”

  Our client seemed overwhelmed by everything, and I really couldn’t blame her.

  “It just doesn’t seem fair,” she said quietly.

  “Your ex-husband has made it clear that he is willing to go to court over this,” Arthur continued. “Which could drag this on for months. Years, even. This could be your best option.”

  “What do you think?” Laney asked, and it took a moment for me to realize that she had directed the question at me.

  All eyes swiveled in my direction. Arthur looked surprised, but everyone else looked pissed. I couldn’t really blame them—as far as the office hierarchy went, I was a nobody. No doubt everyone was wondering why our client was asking me for my opinion.

  “Alex?” Arthur prompted, giving me permission to speak.

  I took a deep breath as I considered my options. Tell them what I really thought or toe the company line? Fuck.

  “I know that this process has been exhausting and draining,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “And your ex-husband will try to drag this out for as long as possible. But, I believe that a fifty-fifty split—which you are entitled to—is worth the fight.”

  There was a disapproving murmur through the room. Double fuck. Across the room, Lucinda looked positively thrilled that I was such a complete and utter moron. Bryce just looked confused.

  “Thank you for your thoughts, Alex,” Arthur finally said, dismissing all of us.

  I headed back to my desk, kicking myself. Never mind the bar results, I’d just torpedoed my chances here at the firm all on my own.

  An hour later I was called to Arthur’s office.

  Stomach in my feet, I headed over there, ignoring Lucinda’s chuckle. When I arrived, I found, to my great displeasure, that all of the partners were there waiting for me. Triple fuck. Quadruple fuck.

  “Sit down,” Arthur said, looking more solemn than usual.

  I did as I was told, keeping my hands clasped in my lap. I really hoped they wouldn’t draw this out so I could head home and drown my sorrows in a bottle of cheap wine, because I certainly wouldn’t be able to afford the good stuff anymore. Not like I really had ever been able to afford the good stuff. Just the sort-of-good stuff. But it was just going to be Two-Buck Chuck from now on.

  “Laney called a few minutes ago,” Arthur informed me. “She decided to refuse the settlement. She wanted to keep fighting for an equal split.”

  I was glad that she had made that decision, but apparently the partners weren’t.

  “It was very clear from this afternoon’s meeting, as well as our conversation with her, that she took your advice very seriously,” Arthur continued, while all the partners stared at me silently. “We were wondering if you had anything you’d like to say for yourself. If you’d like to explain your relationship with the client and why she seems to rely so heavily upon your recommendation.”

  It was a fair question. So, I explained the discussion I’d had with her in the bathroom.

  “I just wanted to reassure her that we would do everything we could to get her what she deserved,” I told them. “It wasn’t meant to undermine the partners’ suggestion, I promise.”

  “Except it did,” Arthur countered.

  I was silent for a moment. Fuck it. If I was going to get fired, I might as well be upfront about it.

  “I studied law because I wanted to be an advocate for people who couldn’t advocate for themselves,” I said, my heart racing. “I wanted to be able to fight for the best interests of those who didn’t have the resources to fight on their own. And I think our client deserves better than the
settlement. I think it is in her best interest to keep fighting. Because I think that if anyone can get her what she deserves, it’s this firm.”

  I thought it was a rousing speech, but the blank looks on the partner’s faces just seemed to confirm that they thought that potential associates should be seen but not heard. Maybe not even seen.

  I was definitely fired. Bracing myself, I looked down at the ground, waiting for the blow.

  Instead, there was a knock on the door.

  Arthur’s secretary poked her head in the door.

  “Henry Hayes is here to see you,” she said.

  Immediately, the atmosphere in the room changed. Everyone sat up straighter, and there were some excited looks.

  “You didn’t say you were meeting with Hayes,” one of the other partners spoke up, looking impressed. “Arthur, that’s great news.”

  “It’s not on my calendar,” Arthur frowned, “but I’m sure we can make time for him.”

  They all chortled with laughter. “I’d say. What does his company bill, two, three million a year in legal fees?”

  “It would be a great account to land.”

  “We’ll finish this discussion later,” Arthur said, but his secretary gulped.

  “Actually, he’s here to see Alexandra,” she said, looking awkward.

  Again, everyone was staring at me. Only Arthur seemed to take it all in stride.

  “Bring him in,” he told his secretary. “Alexandra can make introductions.”

  Henry came in, smiling and showing off the dimple he shared with his son.

  “Alex,” he said, greeting me with a hug. “So good to see you again.”

  “It’s good to see you too,” I coughed, my mind racing. He’d said he would check out the firm, but I didn’t think he’d meant it!

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Henry looked around the room.

  Most of the partners were staring at him, obviously thrilled that he was in our midst. They all seemed to be regarding me with a newfound respect.

  “Let me introduce you to the partners, Mr. Hayes,” I offered.