by Susan Hatler
Beefy Guy strolled toward us, stopping directly in front of me. “Thought you gorgeous ladies could use another round.” He sipped his beer, then only had eyes for me. “Name’s Bud. And you are?”
“Jill,” I said, laughing that I’d given him my real name. “Thanks for the drinks, but I have a boyfriend.”
His face fell. “It’s figures. You, lady, are so hot you could melt the sun.”
“Thanks, Bud.” I smiled, because the guy seemed harmless.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a card, and handed it to me. “Call me if you’re ever single. I can take you anywhere you want to go.”
I watched him walk away, and nodded. “That is the perfect end to my week.”
Sarah burst into laughter. “I told you your life wasn’t so bad. Imagine how you’d feel if Bud was your new boss.”
I glanced at his card. “He’s in the automotive industry. Not the law.”
“Well, he has good taste in women.” Ginger held her glass up. “To being desirable.”
As we clinked glasses, an image of Ryan popped into my head. He was smiling at me, like I was his sunshine.
****
Charlie’s last day of work was on Monday. The partners threw him a going away party in the conference room at five o’clock. Ten years with Corbett, Gray & Shaw, bought him a party with champagne and a gourmet deli spread from the Italian restaurant around the corner.
Most of the staff stuck around to wish Charlie good luck, and to wolf down a quick freebie dinner. The attorneys stayed longer, possibly to support their former colleague in his new endeavors, but probably just to suck up to the partners who were all present in the conference room.
“Hey, Jill.” Troy Monaghan grabbed a seat next to me and took a huge bite of a roast beef and provolone on garlic ciabatta.
“How are things in the Social Security Department?” I poured some champagne into a plastic flute and took a sip.
“Same.” Troy shrugged, then leaned toward me with his garlic breath. “What do you suppose Charlie and Stan are talking about?”
“Who knows?” I watched the odd pair, one tall and lanky, the other short and stout. I watched Charlie’s serious expression as he chatted with his former boss. I knew Charlie hadn’t loved working for Stan, and that had been one of the deciding factors in his going into business for himself.
Troy looped his arm around me. “Maybe you and I should start our own firm together.”
I tried not to laugh, because his handsome facial expression was serious. He was a decent attorney, but I had the distinct feeling I’d be doing most of the work in a business with him. “That’s flattering, but I don’t think so.”
Hopefully, I’d be moving on to a new firm soon, anyway. One where I’d work for a woman just as career driven as me.
“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” Troy stood, lifting his empty plate. “A few of us are heading downtown to go bar hopping. You should come. It’ll be fun.”
My chest warmed at the invitation, but I waved a hand. “Not tonight,” I said, since I had a ton of extra work due to time spent on another irritating report Ryan asked me to write in the Somerset case. “You have fun though.”
“Alright. Say hi to Val for me.” Troy paused to shake Charlie’s hand before heading out, squeezing past Ryan who was coming through the doorway.
Champagne fizzed on my tongue as I watched Stan Corbett chuckle at something Charlie said to him. Working with Charlie the past five years had been ideal. He was intelligent, honest, and I had a lot of respect for him. Although it really was better for him to move on, my throat tightened and my tummy squeezed. I didn’t want him to leave.
“Sorry to see him go?” Ryan set his plate on the table, then slipped into the seat next to me. He was late to the party, but I knew he had a scheduled conference call with a defense attorney on one of the premise liability cases.
I glanced up at Ryan, who wore a black suit, blue collared shirt, and a tie that was loosened at the neck. He must’ve had a court appearance today since he never dressed up for the office. It disturbed me that he looked as hot dressed up as he did casual. “Charlie was very easy to work with.”
His gaze held mine. “That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m sure we’ll keep in touch.” I didn’t want to confide in Ryan about how I really felt about Charlie leaving—it was too tied in with the fact that he’d taken Charlie’s place.
“We will most definitely keep in touch.” Charlie appeared before us, and Stan Corbett ambled toward the exit with the other partners. “How about lunch with Ethan when he returns from his honeymoon?”
“Sounds great.” I forced a smile, blinking back tears. Then I stood, and set my empty flute on the table. The last few people meandered toward the exit. Looked like this party was wrapping up.
Charlie smiled languidly. “How are things going for you, Ryan? Jill showing you the ropes around here?”
Ryan rose to his feet, and winked at me. “I get the feeling she’d like to hang me by a rope.”
Charlie laughed. “Jill is an incredible attorney, but she’s severely under valued at this firm.”
Ryan straightened, then leveled Charlie with a serious gaze. “If that’s true, things will change now that I’m here.”
I scoffed. “Just so you know, making me document my progress on a case I’ve handled for years doesn’t exactly scream trust or appreciation.”
Ryan opened his mouth as if to respond, then he closed it, and held his hand out. “Good luck, Charlie.”
Charlie eyed me a moment, then shook Ryan’s hand. “You too, Ryan.”
Ryan nodded, then strode toward the exit.
Charlie put a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”
I nodded, as he pulled me into a hug. Closing my eyes, I wanted to beg him not to leave. His resignation had sparked the road fork my life now faced. Terror trickled through me. Having no choice but to let go, I wished him well. “See you, Charlie.”
With one last squeeze, he released me, then headed toward the exit.
My throat cinched to the point of pain, and I bowed my head. After being so preoccupied with myself this past week, the reality finally hit me. After five years working together, Charlie would no longer be here. And my life would now change drastically—if only I knew in which direction it would go. I ran my fingers under my eyes, whisking away the few tears that escaped. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head.
Ryan stood just inside the door, watching me with a concerned expression, and everyone else had left.
Embarrassed that he’d witnessed my emotion, I held my head high, and strode toward the door.
“You don’t have to say it.” His gaze held mine, as I started to pass by. “I know you’ll miss him.”
“I really will,” I said, wondering why I’d admitted that to Ryan. Even more, I wondered why Ryan seemed to care.
Chapter Five
The next morning, I sat in my office and scowled at the black phone on my desk. I’d arrived late to work after an hour massage with Ginger’s massage therapist, but I could already feel the tension creeping back into my shoulders. How would my parents react when I confessed that I hadn’t gotten the promotion?
I chewed on my pinky nail, telling myself to just call, and get it over with. With a jolt of courage, I managed to hit line two and punch in the dreaded ten digits.
“Hello?” Dad answered.
“I didn’t get the promotion, Dad.” There, I’d blurted it out. “Charlie gave notice, the partners hired someone else, and I didn’t get the promotion.”
The silence was audible.
“Sorry, Ace.” His voice was tight. “I was hoping it was your mom calling.”
“Mom?” I tapped my fingers on the desk, wondering where his words of encouragement were. Or at least my condolences, like everyone else had given. “Isn’t Mom at work?”
“No.” Pages rustled in the background and fingers were punching a keyboard
. “Your mother is gone, Jill.”
My heart stopped. “Define gone.”
Instead of answering, he started muttering, which confirmed he wasn’t paying attention to me. What in the world was going on?
“Dad?” I squeezed my stapler repeatedly, dropping tiny scrunched staples into a pile on my desk. “Where is Mom?”
“She left me.” His low voice sent chills up my spine, like he’d had trouble getting the words out. “Said she was done being burdened with responsibility, that she was going on a much needed vacation, and that I’d better not be here when she got back.”
My throat weakened as I held the receiver to my ear, and a gray tunnel vision made the room close in on me. “You’re getting divorced?”
“Not by my choice.” His words were stilted, like he was about to break down. “I-I’m not sure what to do. I mean, I wanted to connect with her. I suggested dinner and movies, trips to Cabo, even parasailing. Work always took precedence over our relationship. So I made a life for myself, supporting her always. Your mom’s the calm, steady one. But we grew apart.” His voice hitched. “She says our relationship can’t be reconciled.”
The calm steady one.
I brushed tears from my cheeks, as the realization crept up my spine. I worked year after year with no end in sight, just like my mother. Passing up friendships and fun. Would I crack one day, too? Disappear without so much as a good-bye to my child? Or to the man I’d once loved? The scenario terrified me.
“Jill?” My dad’s voice broke. “What should I do?”
I gaped at the phone. “I have no idea.”
****
I’d dialed my mom’s cell five times throughout the day, but each time my call was sent directly to voicemail. How could she just up and leave my dad after thirty-three years of marriage? Or ignore her daughter?
Just before five o’clock, I had a meeting with my favorite colleague, Scott Broderick. Charlie had hired Scott six months ago directly out of law school. Under my tutelage, Scott learned how to evaluate a personal injury file for the three key elements.
Insurance coverage, which was a must if we were going to take on the prospective client’s case. Liability, which had to be clear—a case was hard enough to argue without having to prove the other party was actually at fault. And, the crème de la crème: settlement potential. Pretty obvious there—the higher the dollar amount, the better.
Without a doubt, the more significant the monetary value of the case, the more likely we would be lenient on the clarity of the second key. Even with sticky liability, insurance companies would often pay out on high damage claims, to avoid the risk of trial and the unknown outcome of unpredictable juries.
After six months with the firm, I felt gratified by the long, hard hours Scott worked, his attention to detail, and his eagerness to absorb any advice I gave.
Patting the thick file of documents on my desk, I glanced up at Scott, who sat attentively across from me as we went over the Beady file. “You reviewed all the medicals?”
Scott nodded. “Yes, I reviewed them upon receipt. Then again, in entirety, this afternoon.”
My question had been rhetorical. I know Scott Broderick wouldn’t come to my office unprepared. My mouth curved upward in a proud smile for my protégé. All hadn’t been lost at work. I still had one loyal person.
“Why don’t you write up your evaluation?” It was now after five, and the conflict between my parents had left me drained. But, if I gave Scott authorization to settle today, he could attempt to resolve his case first thing in the morning. “We can go over it in an hour.”
Scott responded by checking his watch.
My brows came together in confusion. It was only a few minutes past five and he normally worked as late as I did.
“I’d love to, Jill.” Scott squirmed in his seat. “But Ryan invited a few of us to get together for basketball Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“I see.” Yeah, I saw plenty. While I’d be in here working my tail off, Ryan would be out shooting hoops.
“You know me, Jill. Normally I’d stay late for you but Ryan . . .”
I eyed Scott critically while he continued stumbling out excuses. He’d been turned to the dark side.
As if on cue, my nemesis appeared in my doorway. “Scott? I’ve been looking for you. Ready to head out?”
Scott’s face lit up. “You bet.” He turned back to me awkwardly. “See you tomorrow, Jill?”
I nodded coolly and watched my protégé duck his head, and scurry out of my office. Then I set my stony glare onto the eyes of the enemy.
Ryan cocked an eyebrow. “What’s with the laser eyes?”
I stood and began stacking the medical documents into neat piles. This slacker didn’t deserve a response from me.
He came closer, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You don’t believe in the good of exercise?”
I thrust my hand on my hip. “I happen to work out most days of the week.”
Ryan’s gaze drifted down my body, then back up again with a look so intense it made my knees weak.
“But that’s not the point.” I put a hand on the Beady files to steady myself. “Scott has a very promising future. He doesn’t need any distractions from his work.”
His heated gaze cooled into a look of confusion. “How is basketball going to ruin his career?”
It killed me that he could run the department, and still have time to pal around with co-workers. I’d barely had time for lunch with the girls on Friday due to Ryan’s unnecessary memos and reports.
“Some of us don’t jump off the clock just because it’s five.” I crossed my arms, and leaned back against my desk. “It’s one thing for you not to take your job seriously. But the rest of us don’t have relatives to hand us a job. We need to earn it. Something you obviously wouldn’t understand.”
Ryan’s face grew taut as he shut the door behind him, and stormed over to me. “Just because I wasn’t working at this particular firm my entire career, doesn’t mean I didn’t earn this position. I spent seven years working my way up in San Francisco.”
“Is that how you ease your conscience?” I stared into his sexy hazel eyes that were so heated, I had the strong urge to press my mouth to his. I deserved kudos for resisting.
“My conscience is clear, buttercup.” His face was inches away from mine. “In fact, if I hadn’t gone to San Diego, I would’ve had this exact same job at a much larger firm. Just because you were here first, doesn’t mean I’m not qualified for this position.”
“Is that so?” My blood hummed. How dare he speak to me this way, after he waltzed in, and destroyed everything I’d worked so hard to build. And why did I want to kiss him so badly?
He flattened his hands on my desk, pinning me in so I couldn’t escape if I wanted to (which I didn’t). “What bothers you more, Jill? The fact that I got the job? Or that I can do it as well as you could, and still have a life?”
I flinched, feeling like he’d struck me. “I have a life.”
He leaned closer, eyeing my mouth. “That’s not what I hear.”
“Been asking about me, have you?” I swallowed, trying to keep my expression level, so he’d have no idea how he affected me. Inside, my heart was pounding. I clenched my hands, so the trembling wouldn’t give me away, as he bent toward me. . . .
Beep! Beep! The intercom on my phone gave two cheerful beeps. “Jill? Is Ryan still in there? The guys are waiting in the lobby for him,” Scott said.
Ryan paused, as if waiting to see what I’d do.
I cleared my throat. “He’ll be right out.”
The intercom beeped off.
Ryan didn’t move away, though. His mouth stayed so close to mine, that I could feel the heat from his skin pulse against me as I breathed in his dark, musky scent. “You drive me insane,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.
I tilted my head, then lifted my lashes. “The guys are waiting.”
He leaned toward my ear, his whisper tickling my s
kin. “Don’t work too late, buttercup.”
My jaw tightened as he smirked, straightened, then slipped out of my office. And I stared after him, breathless—thinking I needed to start playing basketball.
****
After Zumba class, I folded into a pike position on the mat, at my gym, Totally Fit. Usually I worked out in the morning, but I needed to burn off tension from my encounter earlier with Ryan in my office. Mission accomplished.
Well, except for a few lingering impulses.
I stretched forward far enough to reach behind my toes, then I pulled them toward me. My calf muscles yelped with pain before they slowly started to loosen. I peered over at Ginger. “How was your day?”
Ginger sighed. “Victor and I were supposed to see that new Bradley Cooper film, but he canceled for sports night.”
Seeing the disappointment across her face tugged at my heart strings. “I’m sorry he’s not reliable. I know you like him.”
Tears filled her eyes, then she blinked them away. “He’s so not an asset.”
“That’s right.” Pressing my nose toward my knee, I had a brilliant idea. “Let’s go to the lounge at the Geoffries hotel Friday night. No men. No sports.”
“No brainer.” She wiggled her shoulders, and bumped her fists in the air. “Let’s invite your friend, Sarah. She’s such a sweetheart.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I flattened my stomach against my thighs, thinking how nice it was working out with a friend.
“How was work?” Ginger asked.
In an instant, I pictured Ryan’s heated expression as he had me pinned against the desk. “Ryan’s infuriating. He’s started a basketball team after work Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
“You mean they work out?” Ginger scanned the room with a frantic expression. “Oh, the horror.”
I tossed her a give-me-a-break look.
Ginger giggled. “You’ve got it bad for this guy, don’t you?”
“You’re way off.” I straddled my legs, then leaned toward the mat. “Besides, it’s hard to think about dating when my parents might be getting divorced.”