Mia recognized it now. A client had sent it to her as a thank-you last year. “To tell you the truth, I’d forgotten about it. Looks good there, though…” Her voice trailed off when it struck her that there were no fresh flowers.
No gigantic seasonal arrangement where the plant now sat, and nothing equally decadent and exotic sitting on a table in the foyer. She glanced over her shoulder. The waiting area was also bare. A few tall palms and ficus helped liven up the place, but it was obvious that just as many had been removed. And this was the main floor. No telling what the two lower floors looked like.
“Mia?”
At the sound of David’s voice, she turned her head and saw him standing in the hall leading to his office, gesturing for her to follow.
“The plant looks good, Laura, better than when I had it. Keep it,” she said, before heading toward David, her mind scrambling to make sense of the changes that had taken place in only three weeks and ignoring the way her heart had been crushed just by looking at him.
“You’re early,” he said with a scant curve of his mouth.
“So is everyone else. What’s going on?”
“Let’s wait until we get to the conference room,” he said in a hushed voice. “You might grab some coffee on the way. There’s no service set up there yet.”
They got to the employee break room, and David waited outside while she got her coffee. She noticed the absence of both cappuccino machines and the hot chocolate dispenser. There was milk, none of the fancy flavored creams. No trays of donuts and bagels or fresh fruit, which in the past had been provided for the employees. Maybe because it was too early yet. She didn’t think so. The firm’s problems clearly were bigger and more serious than she thought.
Thank God there was still coffee, and she quickly poured a cup, eager to get out of the dismal room. That the perks had been so quickly withdrawn told her more than David had been willing to confide. The cutbacks had to really depress him. The firm had always been prosperous. This had to be hard for David’s whole family to accept.
He eyed her cup of black coffee. “I’ve ordered some fruit, Danish and juice to be brought to the conference room twenty minutes before the client arrives,” he said, his tone bordering on apologetic. “You can get something to eat then.”
“I’m fine. What time is the meeting?” They’d started down the hall again, their shoulders occasionally brushing, and she vividly remembered the times when the slightest innocent touch would rattle her concentration. Now, after Hawaii, after the other night and his impersonal offer to return, she honestly didn’t know what she should feel.
“Not until nine.” He stopped in front of her old office, small and empty but for the desk and file cabinet. “I didn’t even ask, is using your old office okay with you?”
“Of course.” She tried not to feel insulted. She had taken the raise after all. Now she wasn’t sure she wanted it. “Is there a specific reason we’re going to the conference room now?”
“We need to talk before our meeting.” He studied her face with those serious brown eyes of his, just like he had the moment before he’d kissed her for the first time. The flash of memory undercut her resolve, and her foolish heart twisted with longing. “I figured you might be more comfortable there.”
She understood now. The conference room was mostly glass; his office was more private. “It doesn’t matter where we are, David. I think we both know we’re safe.” If she’d meant to wound him, his flinch told her she’d gotten close to the mark with her sarcasm.
Then his features tightened. “All right, my office then.”
She should have found satisfaction in eliciting a reaction, but all she felt was sad as she followed him. Her sense of vulnerability had prompted the needless barb. Too late to do anything about it but accept his retreat behind the mask.
He closed the door while she sat in one of the chairs facing his desk. “I had a contract drawn up guaranteeing your salary on a daily basis,” he said, as he took his seat, his hand protecting his red tie as he leaned forward to open the bottom drawer. “Without obligation on your part.”
“How bad is it?”
His questioning eyes met hers. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“With the firm. Will there be layoffs?”
He leaned back, shoving a hand through his hair. “Obviously we’re trying to avoid that.”
“But everyone’s worried.”
His humorless lips lifted slightly, his gaze drifting toward the door. “You see how early they’re all showing up. They see the cutbacks. They’re wondering what’s next.”
“They should be told the truth.” She didn’t care that it wasn’t her business, although to some degree she could justify her concern. “Uncertainty is far more harmful to morale.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” he said, giving her an odd look. He took his time studying her face. “But it’s not my call.”
She wasn’t talking about them, if that’s what he thought. And even if she was, at least he’d gotten it right. “I wish you could get through to him,” she said, then added, “your father.”
“He’s doing everything he knows how to do.” David sighed, touched a finger to his lips like he did when he was trying to think something through. “Between us? Neither he nor Harrison is drawing a salary. They aren’t being cavalier about the problem.”
“And you?”
He drew back slightly. The question clearly had startled him. He said nothing for a long, drawn-out moment. “No.”
Mia’s temple started throbbing again. Damn it. “Give me the contract.”
At her abruptness, his mouth tightened with irritation, but he did as she asked.
“I’m not accepting the raise,” she said, and tore the contract in half.
15
THE SECOND DAY at the office Mia sat at her old desk, staring at a stack of contracts, sorely tempted to tell David the deal was off. First, she didn’t like the new client. Oh, Stan Peabody was nice enough, but he should never have been overseeing this massive an undertaking, and with only an associate and a paralegal to assist him. Poor guy, he simply wanted the reins passed so he could retire. What had Mia irked was that the person he represented still hadn’t revealed his identity. Pompous ass.
But that was the least of Mia’s complaints. The atmosphere around the office was barely tolerable. The senior Mr. Pearson was still refusing to clue in the employees as to what was happening. With no good reason not to, everyone feared for their jobs and wondered whose job Mia had stolen by returning. She was unarguably persona non grata.
The icing on the cake? The employees didn’t know the half of it yet. Unknowingly they had every reason to question why she’d been put in charge of this particular account. This wasn’t her forte. She wasn’t a tax attorney or an estate-planning attorney. There were a dozen other lawyers at the firm who were eminently more qualified to head the team, and yes, the account was colossal enough to require a team. Assets had been poorly managed, and the revenue pools shamefully shallow. The foundation should’ve been making money hand-over-fist. Pearson and Stern had more work to do than had been anticipated. The account would make them beaucoup bucks, and that made it even more difficult for Mia to extricate herself from her agreement.
Her prominent role also meant that once word was out about her project, Mia was about to go from persona non grata to pariah in the staff’s estimation, with the exception of Karen Flint, but that was only because the woman had to work with her so if Karen did harbor any resentment, she kept a close lid on it.
The worst thing, by far, was David himself. Not that he’d done anything egregious, but working close to him was killing her. She seriously doubted if she would’ve agreed to return had she known he would directly oversee the account. She’d made the mistake of assuming she was in charge, but to be fair, it was Peabody who’d announced at the end of the meeting that David’s involvement was also required. That he’d seemed equally surprised was the reason she hadn’t wal
ked out that very minute.
Well, not the only reason. Damned if she hadn’t softened toward David when the first retainer check had exchanged hands, and the king of stone faces had been unable to hide a flash of relief. Nothing major sure. A flicker in his eyes, a small twitch at the right side of his mouth, a slight bob of his Adam’s apple. No one but her would have noticed. The knowledge both warmed her and made her want to throw her stapler at the wall. “Knock, knock.”
She looked up to find Karen standing in her doorway holding two mugs. “Come in.”
“Am I interrupting? I can come back.”
“No, please.” Mia motioned to the plain straight-back guest chair someone had scraped up for her.
“I brought coffee, if you’re interested.”
“Very.” She reached for the mug Karen set on the desk. “Thanks. I’m sure this is lunch.”
Karen sat down. “I have some instant soup packets in my desk if you’d like.” Then she added dourly, “I believe we still have hot water in the break room.”
Mia glanced at her over the rim of her cup, but said nothing and sipped.
Karen flushed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No worries. Hard to miss the tension around here.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure. Look, I know that you asked me to help with this account, and I just wanted to say I’m grateful.”
Mia needed to tread carefully. “Who told you that?”
The older woman’s dark brows furrowed as if she didn’t understand why Mia wouldn’t know such an obvious answer. “David.”
“Ah.” That didn’t make her happy. He needed to communicate better. As far as Mia knew, everything was hush-hush.
“He warned me not to tell anyone or discuss the account with the others, but clearly that excludes you.” She shrugged. “I had to thank you. My husband lost his job two months ago, and we depend on my salary. Being involved with this account provides some job security. At least I’m hoping.” She worried her lower lip. “It’s just so scary around here now. The not knowing is wearing thin on everyone.”
“I understand,” Mia said in a slow and cautious voice.
“I’m not pumping you for information,” Karen said quickly. “Please don’t think that.”
“Why should I? I don’t know anything.”
Karen looked at her with a doubtful expression. “I just figured since you and David—” She seemed really nervous now. “You know, I should go.” Abruptly she stood.
Uneasiness crawled up Mia’s spine. Of course she’d heard whispers, saw the accusing looks, but she didn’t totally understand what chatter was being disseminated. “Karen, wait.” While Mia got up and closed the office door, she motioned the woman to reclaim her seat. Maybe it was wiser to let the matter drop, but she liked and trusted Karen, who’d never been one to gossip, and if Mia were ever going to find out what was being muttered in the office bullpen, this seemed like her chance.
Mia sat down again and faced Karen, who looked as if she’d rather be stuck in an airless cab during a rush hour jam.
She cleared her throat, wondering how to begin diplomatically. “I owe you a thanks as well for not treating me like I have leprosy,” she said, and Karen blanched, nervously tucking her curly auburn hair behind her ear. “I’m fully aware most of the associates are unhappy that I’ve returned to the firm,” Mia continued. “I don’t blame them, and it won’t help when they find out more about this mystery account. I can assure you that I’m not here at anyone’s expense. I can’t be more specific, and I doubt trying to reassure the rest of them would do any good because they probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“No,” Karen agreed softly, surprising Mia with her easy candor. “They wouldn’t. Frankly, I’d leave it alone, Mia.”
She wished she could, but it was eating at her, undermining her concentration. “It’s needless tension. What puzzles me is that they know I’m only here on a temporary—” She stopped herself, annoyed that she’d been about to give away too much. The client couldn’t know she had a finite agreement with the firm. “I’m here part-time. They all know that, right?”
Karen reluctantly nodded. “It doesn’t matter.”
“But it’s not as if I stole anyone’s account.”
“There are a lot of associates who used to work on the Decker account. They’re sure they’ll be the first to go.”
“Right.” Mia drummed her fingers. “Once we have a handle on how the foundation should be administered,” she said, waving at the stack of contracts, “we’ll need a lot more help. I’m sure Stan Peabody did his best, but we both know he was in way over his head. I don’t know, maybe you could kind of hint around that we’ll be building a team—”
“It’s not just—” Karen pressed her lips together and stared at the floor.
“What?”
“Landing an account like this is great, okay? Everyone is pleased, but they aren’t fooled. Unless we land a couple more of these babies, or some rich schmuck is arrested as a serial killer and hires us, there are going to be layoffs. The writing’s on the wall. And no one will forget that after quitting, you came back at the worst possible time and were only hired because of David.”
Mia ignored the sudden cramp in her stomach. “David? What does he have to do with—?”
“Come on, Mia. You asked. I don’t know how to sugarcoat it for you.” Karen didn’t seem nervous anymore, but was more agitated. “Everyone knows about the two of you.”
“Really? And what do they know that I don’t?”
Karen’s eyebrows rose. “Didn’t you go on vacation together?”
“No,” Mia said coolly. “I went to Hawaii with my two college friends, my business partners. As a matter of fact, we’d hoped to hook up with three guys we’d met during spring break back when we were in college.”
“I’m sorry.” Karen looked confused and embarrassed. Very surprised.
Mia felt only mildly bad since technically she hadn’t lied. “Perhaps the rumor mill should get its facts straight.”
“I’m sorry,” Karen said again. “I didn’t participate in the gossip, but I have to admit I made the same assumption, with you both coming in tan and the way David’s been looking at you…” She trailed off, clearly miserable and disgusted with herself.
“How has David been looking at me?”
Karen got to her feet. “I think I’ve done enough damage.”
Mia clamped her mouth shut. The smart, dignified thing to do would be to let Karen go, leave the conversation as it stood, resting firmly on Mia’s denial. Even though the veteran attorney wasn’t normally a talker, maybe with a few well-chosen words she’d quiet the troublemakers about their suspicions.
“Karen?” Mia swallowed—hard—and she hoped it wasn’t her pride that just plummeted to the pit of her stomach. “About David—” Oh, God, she really needed to shut up. “I have to know.”
THE MEETING WITH HIS UNCLE and Peter ended, and David left Harrison’s corner office just as Karen Flint left Mia’s. He’d been avoiding Mia all morning, and if she’d noticed, he assumed she knew the reason. Or perhaps not. She was still angry with him despite the noble gesture of tearing up the contract and adamantly declining a raise.
She had no idea how much that display of concern had touched him, though he wasn’t surprised. That’s the kind of person Mia was in every respect. How easy it could have been for her to hide behind her anger and pain, and abuse the power she had over the firm. She was acutely aware of how much they needed her.
A lump rose in his throat just thinking about the incident. Hell, this was precisely why he had to stay away from her. Hiding his feelings for her wasn’t easy anymore. Even though he knew damn well she wasn’t convinced that his motive for following her to Hawaii had been pure. Sure, he sometimes got hot under the collar when she treated him as if he were a snake, but when he was in a more reasonable mood he understood she needed time.
And he needed to keep his distance.
He backed up, ducked his head in and watched her pick up a stack of file folders and drop them into the small cardboard box. “Mia, how’s it going?” he asked casually, his heart damn near beating out of his chest. Had she changed her mind? Was she calling it quits?
She looked up. “I was going to phone you,” she said, averting her gaze.
“I have a few minutes now.” He glanced at the envelope—the courier would be stopping at reception in the next fifteen minutes—then he noticed a paralegal walk out of the next office. “Tara,” he called, “mind dropping this off at reception for me?”
“No problem, Mr. Pearson.” She hurried toward him and accepted the envelope, her prying eyes darting to Mia before giving him a smile and heading toward the front.
He slipped into Mia’s office, his hand on the door-knob. “Open or closed?”
She moved an indifferent shoulder, and flatly watched him close the door before shifting her gaze back to her task.
In the tense quiet, he watched her set the last folder in the box, and figured the only reason he hadn’t busted a blood vessel yet was because this was the calmest he’d seen her since he’d made the offer. Perhaps too calm. Maybe she’d come to a decision. About them. Uneasiness churned in his stomach. “You should’ve seen Harrison’s face when I gave him the check.”
“I’m glad it can help,” she said, distractedly.
“What are you doing, Mia?”
She looked up then, stared blankly at him and then down at the box. “I know this is presumptuous, but it dawned on me that I can handle most of this paperwork at home.”
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