by Ally Decker
Contents
By Your Side
About This Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
About The Author
Copyright
BY YOUR SIDE
New York City Fixers #2
Ally Decker
Website | Newsletter
She's in love with her boss.
Alicia Cordero should've known better than to fall for her employer, but it was too late to be smarter about this. She was in too deep. She might wish things were different, but she accepted her fate. She could settle for a friendship. She could.
He has never let himself see her as anything else than an employee and a friend.
Shawn Foster's life had been more than good, lately. The company he ran with his two best friends kept him busy, and his social life entertained. But then an old friend called him out of the blue, and he got dragged into a nasty public divorce he had nothing to do with.
When the circumstances bring Alicia and Shawn together, it will be up to them to decide where they stand.
CHAPTER ONE
"You need to forget about him!"
Alicia Cordero snorted and threw a balled-up napkin at her best friend, Macey. It was a Friday night, they were having their bi-monthly sushi takeout dinner, and they'd circled back yet again to the topic of Alicia's hopeless crush on her boss.
"Sure, because it's just that easy."
Macey threw the napkin back. "I'm not saying it's easy, but this shit is killing you."
"It's not killing me," Alicia protested. "Sure, seeing him every day can be…hard, but it's not like I can work there and not see him." Macey opened her mouth, but Alicia shook her head. "And don't even tell me I could find another job. I'm thirty years old. I'm not waiting tables at thirty."
It had taken her months to find a job she could stand that also paid well enough to cover her expenses and allowed her not to worry if her utilities bill was going to set her back. Seeing the object of her hopeless affections every day was a small price to pay, honestly.
At least she could afford sushi once in a while to drown her sorrows in the unagi sauce. Life was pretty good.
"I can handle Shawn Foster." Alicia nodded, straightening on the couch. "I can handle him, and I will not fall deeper under his spell, and one day I will be free of him and that will be..." She frowned. "A good day, I guess."
Macey patted her on her knee. "Another drink?"
"Yes, please."
Because, yes, she was handling stuff just fine, but sometimes she still needed a night of sushi and drinks with her best friend.
"To the weekend." Macey raised her glass in a toast after handing Alicia hers.
Alicia's plans consisted of sleeping in, not getting out of bed before noon, and not thinking of Shawn Foster. Not an ambitious plan, but she could tell from experience she was going to have trouble with at least one of those.
She shrugged and raised her glass. "To the weekend."
***
Monday morning came way too soon, as Monday mornings always seemed to do, but Alicia was feeling pretty good. After a maudlin Friday night and a bit too much of feeling sorry for herself on Saturday morning while she nursed a light hangover, she made a one-eighty turn and spent the rest of the weekend happy and energized.
Maybe all she needed was a good night's sleep and not having to rush anywhere.
Whatever it was, by the time she arrived at work Monday morning, she was smiling and ready to face the new week. She chatted for a few minutes with the guard downstairs and then left him be as the wave of hurried lawyers arrived. Foster, Urban, and Young office was situated in one building with a few boutique law firms, and that—according to Shawn—helped with ensuring people's anonymity. It had also given the fixers the legitimacy they needed at the start, connecting their expertise to the one their clients had known and understood much better. Their office even looked like nearly a mirror of that of a law firm, with only small, subtle adjustments to make them different enough to hopefully stand out in the client's mind.
After she finally got to the office, she turned the lights on and put her stuff down at her desk. It seemed like she was the first one in, unless one of the guys had pulled another all-nighter or fell asleep in his office. They'd managed to sleep through the cleaning crew's visit more than once, and Alicia would see them shuffling slowly to the bathroom in their crumpled clothes after they woke up. The first time it happened—with Kevin, the company's computer specialist—was also the time she realized how fond she'd become of all of them. They'd all been friendly right from the start, insisted on her calling them by first names, and included her in the company's lunches and stuff like that. But seeing Kevin ruffled and half-asleep made something warm uncurl in her chest.
The second time, it was Shawn, and Alicia's reaction wasn't nearly as platonic, but just as illuminating. He passed by her desk with a welcoming grunt, caught in the middle of trying to get his wrinkled shirt off himself, but a laugh got stuck in her suddenly dry throat when he did take the shirt off, and she could see his shoulders and arms on display.
And that was the moment she knew—she was in deep, deep trouble. And a cliché, she'd told herself, resting her forehead at the edge of her desk. Stupid, terrible cliché.
It had been almost a year from that day, and she was not only deeply aware of both her crush and the complete lack of originality in the choice of her affection, but she'd also lost hope it would go away soon. That train had passed her station a long time ago without even slowing down, and she was left to deal with it, one day at a time.
The phone's ringing tone seemed particularly loud in the empty lobby.
"Good morning, Foster, Urban, and Young, how may I help you?" Alicia asked, straightening in her seat.
"Hi, Alicia, it's Shawn." She could hear background noises that told her he was somewhere outside. "I'll be late today. I have an unscheduled breakfast meeting, so I should be at the office around ten, I hope."
She nodded as she checked his calendar. "Okay. You have a ten thirty meeting with Gillian Pond, do you want me to push it?"
"No, no, I'll be there. But could you please prepare all the files? They are—"
"On the top pile on the right side of your desk, I know." She hoped he didn't hear the smile in her voice. She sounded way too fond to her own ears.
"Of course you know, you know everything." Shawn sighed. "Thanks."
"I'll have all the files ready in your office. Have a good meeting."
She winced when they said goodbyes and she put the phone down. Have a good meeting, seriously? She sounded ridiculous. She just hoped she wasn't too obvious. The idea of Shawn knowing about her feelings made her stomach tie in knots—or any of the guys knowing, really, since the others would probably tell Shawn right away.
Well, maybe Dean wouldn't, but he was also the one least likely to notice.
No one noticed, she told herself for a millionth time, taking a deep breath. You're fine. Everything is fine.
CHAPTER TWO
Shawn expected to have a quiet week. Since he didn't have a new big case, he only needed to follow up on the ongoing ones and possibly handle any walk-ins, as Nate and Dean were both dealing with cases that demanded a lot of attention
.
But when Fiona Sheppard called last night and informed him they needed to meet, he could immediately tell his week was going to get busy.
He liked Fiona a lot, and she was one of the few people from his college days, aside from his best friends, with whom he'd stayed in contact over the years. But he also knew that whenever she appeared, she stirred up trouble.
Unless she was already in trouble and needed help.
He pushed the door to the café open and walked in. The place was almost full, but he spotted Fiona easily. She was sitting in the first booth, busy on her phone, and there was a cup of coffee on the table in front of her.
"Hello, stranger," Shawn said as he neared the table and smiled.
She looked up and grinned, jumping out of her seat to give him a hug. "Hey, you. It's good to see you."
"You, too."
They sat down, and before they could say anything else, the waitress appeared at their table. She put a coffee cup in front of Shawn and took their orders before leaving them alone again.
"So, what is it?" he asked. These days, he preferred to get right to the point.
"Can't a woman…" Fiona started with a shake of her head, but stopped at Shawn's look. "Okay, fine. There's something."
"Am I here as a friend or as a fixer?" he asked, even if he'd known the answer already.
She chuckled. "Can you differentiate at all, these days?"
Depending on the friend, he thought, but swallowed the words with a mouthful of coffee.
"Just tell me," he finally said.
"I'm splitting up with Matthew." Fiona leaned in on her elbows and circled her fingers around her mug. When Shawn opened his mouth, she shook her head. "Don't bother saying you're sorry to hear that. I know you never liked him."
"Maybe I was going to say 'I told you so'." He wasn't, but he knew teasing was better than sympathy when it came to Fiona. Maybe she needed a friend, too, after all.
She lifted a corner of her mouth in a half-smile. "You've never told anyone that to their face for as long as I've known you." She pointed at him with her finger. Her nails were painted matte black, and Shawn wondered briefly if this was the only way she allowed herself to grieve, since nothing else on her was black. "One of your better qualities."
"The list is quite long, so enough about me," he said, sitting back in the booth. "What happened?"
Fiona frowned before looking down at her coffee. The waitress chose a perfect time to come back with their orders, and Shawn started on his waffles, giving Fiona time.
"He thinks I cheated. I know he cheated." She shrugged as she picked up her fork. "Nothing too original."
Shawn allowed himself to grimace only because she wasn't looking at him. "That sucks. I'm sorry."
"Since he's so sure I've been cheating—I haven't, for the record—I'm heading for a nasty divorce."
He nodded. There we go. That explained what he was doing here.
"What do you need?" he asked.
"It's not so easy. I'd hire you in a heartbeat, but there's another thing." Fiona looked up then. "He thinks I've been cheating with you."
Shawn squared his shoulders and sat up. "What?"
"Matthew thinks I've been cheating on him with you." She sighed. "I don't know why. I mean, he was always pissed at the mere mention of you, but I thought it was because he knew you didn't like him for me."
"Me and many others," Shawn pointed out. Matthew Sheppard was not a man friends wished on their friends. The darling boy of a prominent political family who became a semi-famous actor, the guy was an overconfident asshole. And now, unsurprisingly, a cheater.
God, Shawn hated the cheaters.
She nodded. "I know. Then I thought he might be jealous, but I didn't see that as harmful. You know, just a loving husband being jealous about his wife." She frowned down at her salad. "And maybe that's what it was, at some point. But now he's so sure, there's no talking him out of it. Every party you and I were both at is a proof to him, even if he was there with me, and you and I barely said hello to each other. I don't know what the hell he wants to accomplish with this, other than a nasty end."
"He's after your money, Fiona." Usually, Shawn would be less blunt, but he was still rattled, and she wasn't a client—yet or at all, that part was to be determined. Besides, he knew she had to be thinking about it already. A person in Fiona's position couldn't afford to be naïve about things like that.
And from the look of her, the way she bit her lower lip and her shoulders slumped, it was obvious she knew it was true. She'd already reached the same conclusion. "At this point, I'd be willing to give him the money he wants just to avoid the mess."
Shawn shook his head. "Don't tell him that without talking to your lawyer. He's definitely lawyered up by now, and if you give him a hand, he'll want an arm."
"I don't want a scandal with my name on it."
Neither do I, Shawn thought. "Maybe he's just bluffing, trying to soften you up before you're willing to sit down for the settlement talks." Even as he said it, he had a difficult time believing it. If Matthew Sheppard wanted a war, he was going to drag Fiona—and apparently, Shawn as well—through the mud. And Shawn had no way of stopping it from happening now.
The only thing he could do was prepare for the fallout.
He pulled out his wallet and put a bill under his coffee cup. "Come on, let's get to the office. We shouldn't be seen having breakfast together right now, anyway."
Fiona winced. "I should've thought about that."
She definitely should have, but Shawn didn't have the time to give her a common sense talk in the middle of a very public place. "Come on."
***
Shawn left Fiona in the foyer with Alicia and went looking for his best friends. Dean's door was open, so he walked right in and saw Dean sitting in his chair facing the big windows. He was reading a book, but he put it down as soon as he turned and spotted Shawn.
"Hey."
"Hey, are you busy?"
Dean raised both the book and his eyebrows. "Do I look busy?"
"Fair enough." Shawn fell onto one of the chairs in front of the big desk. "I'm in trouble."
"Did you get someone pregnant, or does someone want to kill you?"
Shawn snorted. "Those are your two best ideas?"
Dean put the book down on the stack of folders to his left. "Tell me they're not likely scenarios."
"Shut up." Shawn scooted lower in his seat. "I'm serious."
Dean narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"
Shawn repeated Fiona's story, adding his own comments. He tried to approach this as if it was a client's case, but he couldn't get out of his head long enough to do that. Besides, he couldn't take this case on when he was a part of it, anyway. That was one of the rules the three of them had established when they'd started the company, and now Shawn was glad they had. As much as he wished different, there was no way he'd be able to stay objective.
"I wasn't that far off after all," Dean muttered, sitting back in his chair, and Shawn shrugged.
"Sure you weren't."
"You're not on this case," Dean said next.
"I know, that's why I'm here."
Dean tilted his head. "No backseat driving, no coming in to see how I'm doing, no bothering Kevin. No talking with Fiona." He pointed a finger as if he wanted to underline this point. "I'm serious, Shawn."
He nodded. "I know, okay? I know." His shoulders slumped. He understood where Dean was coming from, but it was one thing to not be a lead on the case, it was another to be completely cut off.
"And you need to listen to me and do what I tell you. You need to listen to me and Nate, after we read him in. You'll think you know how best to handle that, but you need to leave this to us."
"Sure, okay." It wasn't like the three of them disagreed all that often, anyway. "After we talk with Fiona—"
"No 'we', Shawn." Dean shook his head. "You're backing away right now, not an hour or two hours from now. Go figure out how to disappear fr
om the world and we'll talk it through after I'm done with Mrs. Sheppard."
Shawn frowned. He didn't think they needed to be this particular about—
"If you pout, I'm kicking your ass out of here," Dean warned, standing up. "Go away now, I'm going to talk to my new client."
Shawn stood up. He knew when to give up ground. "Thanks, man."
"Sure. But you better prepare yourself for all the 'I told you so's' Nate's going to throw at you."
That made Shawn groan, but he didn't comment as they walked out to the foyer. He introduced Fiona to Dean and then watched them go until they disappeared in Dean's office.
Shawn leaned on his elbows on the counter of Alicia's reception desk and hid his face in his forearms.
"I'm already over this week," he muttered.
"It's barely nine thirty," Alicia told him. There was a tease in her voice, but she also seemed sympathetic. "You need anything?"
He put his chin on his folded arms and considered the question. "We need to go over my calendar. I have a bunch of appearances scheduled, and they'll need to be cut. Or rather, dumped on Nate and Dean." At Alicia's soft chuckle, he amended, "Fine, on Nate, let's not kid ourselves. But that can wait until after they're done and General Young gives me my orders."
"Aren't you a bit overdramatic?" Alicia asked with one side of her lips twitching. "I meant do you want something to drink or eat. And if you say vodka or arsenic," she added before he even opened his mouth to answer, "I'm booking an interview with whoever pays the most and telling on you."
Shawn grinned. "I hope they pay you a lot, so we can get it from you after we sue for breaching the non-disclosure agreements."
"I'd pay you and still have money left," Alicia said with a confidence that would make him worry if he wasn't absolutely certain she was joking. "Again, drink or food?"
"Big coffee and any chocolate you have stashed in your desk, please." Shawn straightened himself and rolled his shoulders. "I'm going to my office. Please let me know when Fiona leaves."