by Tia Wylder
“Okay,” I said, unsure of what else to reply. “So, what do you do?”
“I’m a student teacher,” Andy said. He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. “So, you wanna get out of here and maybe go somewhere?”
“No,” I said. “I just got here, why would I want to leave?”
Andy gave me a blank look before rolling his eyes and walking away. I frowned – what had I done wrong? All of the magazines I’d read said men liked direct women.
When Jessica returned and handed me a drink, I took a big gulp without even looking at it. It was sticky and sweet and bright pink – definitely not the fine wine I was used to drinking at home – and I coughed and gagged, staring down at the flimsy plastic cup in my hand.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, still gagging. “It’s disgusting!”
Jessica shrugged. “I don’t exactly think they have a bottle of sixty-three cabernet hanging around,” she said with a smirk. “It’s not bad – it’s called the house punch.”
Just as I was about to ask Jessica if she wanted to go to the dance floor and join the crushing throb of bodies, I groaned.
“Shit,” I muttered. “He followed me here. He actually followed me!”
Jessica narrowed her eyes. “Who?”
“Jake,” I moaned, covering my eyes with one hand and hoping he hadn’t spotted me. But it was too late. The beefy, muscular bodyguard was walking toward me at an alarming speed.
“Gianna!” He bellowed loudly. “What are you doing out of the house?”
“I’m at a club,” I said drily. “And I’m not a child! I’m twenty-five years old!”
Jake shook his head and glared. “You’re coming with me,” he said, grabbing my wrist in his giant paw before I had a chance to step back. “And we’re going home. Right now, Gianna.”
“But I don’t want to,” I whined, well aware that I was acting like a little kid. “Come on, Jake. Just go home and say you couldn’t find me! I’ll be back in the morning!”
Jake gave me a deadpan look and shook his head. He was still gripping my wrist, and his fingers were almost painfully tight. “No,” he said. “Gianna, if I return without you, your father will fire me. Is that what you want?”
I stared at him for a long moment before rolling my eyes. “No,” I muttered, my reply drowned in the loud music. “I don’t want you to get fired.”
“Then come with me,” Jake said firmly.
I threw an apologetic glance at Jessica. “I’m sorry,” I mouthed over my shoulder as I followed Jake out of the club. “I really am.”
When Jake and I were in the backseat of my father’s limousine, I sighed and pressed my face to the glass. Our driver, Curtis, pulled away from the club.
“How did Dad know I left the house?”
“Security cameras,” Jake said shortly. “You forget the lawn is completely covered.”
I covered my face with my hands and groaned.
When we got back to the house, my parents were waiting in the foyer.
“I am very, very disappointed in you,” Dad said angrily. He was red in the face and I watched a vein bulging from the side of his neck. “Do you know what could have happened to you out there?”
“Yeah,” I said sarcastically. “I could’ve had fun, for a change!”
“You could have been raped! Or killed, or mugged!” My father thundered. “Gianna, you are a very disrespectful daughter!”
“You know what,” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning in close. “I don’t have to take this shit anymore. I could leave, right now. Just try to stop me.”
My father laughed. “You couldn’t survive in the world on your own,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d just like to see you try.”
As I whirled around on my heel and began climbing the stairs to my room, I pressed my lips into a thin line and narrowed my eyes. Just watch me, I thought angrily. Just watch me, Dad.
Chapter 2
Barnes
“Mr. Harrington, I assure you – I’m very pleased with your services so far. I just…wonder if there’s anything else we could be doing.”
I sighed and looked up. Angela Davis, one of my wealthiest (and most demanding) clients were sitting in front of my desk with a saucy expression on her face. She was an attractive middle-aged woman, with hair the color of straw cut to a long sharp bob and a face that was so carefully made up that she resembled a mannequin. A very, very rich mannequin.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “Do you want to go over the pre-nup again? Because unfortunately, I have to tell you – it’s very airtight. There’s not much of a chance you’ll get another million out of Mr. Davis unless we sue him. And Mrs. Davis, I’m sorry, but I doubt that the judge will decide in your favor.”
“Please,” Angela purred. “Call me Angela.”
“Right, Angela,” I said. “As I said, I don’t think the judge will side with you. You committed infidelity, and you were caught in the act with photographic evidence. You know where your husband stands on this.”
“Fuck Harold,” Angela said with surprising venom in her voice. “He only married me to make another woman jealous, do you know that?”
“That doesn’t matter now,” I said as calmly as I could manage.
Angela’s expression turned sweet once again. “Mr. Harrington – I mean, Barnes, is it okay if I call you Barnes?”
I nodded.
“Well, it’s just…” Angela trailed off, and she looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “I’m so unhappy about everything that’s going on. Do you…do you think we could go someplace and talk about it?”
I glanced around. We were sitting my office, and most of my other staff had left for the day. Ever since I’d opened my firm, I’d tried to keep things small. But when you have a reputation as Boston’s most ruthless divorce lawyer, it’s impossible to stay tiny.
“We are talking,” I said. “And we’re alone in the office.”
Angela smirked at me before getting to her feet and walking over to where I sat, behind my desk. I noticed that she was wearing a very tight red dress that clung to her large curves.
“Barnes,” Angela said in a throaty voice. “Do you ever need…a little stress relief?”
“Not usually,” I said. “That’s what they make beer for.”
Angela ignored my flippant comments and put her hand on my shoulder. “Because I give excellent massages,” she said. “Harold always said so. He said I was better than the professionals.”
“Please take your hand away,” I said, gently pushing Angela’s hand off my shoulder. “This isn’t professional behavior, Angela, and it could get me in a lot of trouble.”
“Oh, Barnes, I love it when you act like you don’t want me,” Angela purred. “It’s such a turn-on.”
Before I had time to react, she was leaning down and kissing me. Panic flared in my chest and I pushed her away with both hands, gently but firmly.
“Come on,” Angela whined. “Just a little makeout session, hmm? That’s not going to hurt anyone…and I’m so horny,” she added in a breathy voice. “Please, Barnes?”
“No,” I said firmly, getting to my feet and shaking my head. “And Mrs. Davis, I’m going to have to ask you to leave my office, or I’ll need to call security.”
Angela’s smug, simpering smile faded, and I saw a look of sharp anger come into her eyes.
“I’ve never been so insulted in my entire life,” she said angrily. “What are you, gay? What kind of man turns down a woman like me?”
“A man who doesn’t want to be sued for unethical conduct,” I said. “I could lose my ability to practice law, Angela, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let that happen. My job is too important.”
Angela narrowed her eyes into tiny, angry slits. “You men and your jobs,” she said in a nasty tone. “You think that’s all that matters – you think that’s all anyone cares about!”
I shrugged. “It’s all I care about,” I said. “No
w, please leave, Angela. And in the future, I’m going to have my paralegal sit in whenever we meet, just to make sure that we keep to professional standards.”
Angela grabbed her designer handbag and clutched it to her chest, still glaring at me. “You’re going to regret this,” she said angrily. “This won’t be the last you hear from me!”
I waited until she’d stormed out of my office before flopping down in my chair and rolling my eyes. “Of course it won’t be the last time I hear from you,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re my client. We’re going to be working together until your divorce is finalized.”
I’d been working as a lawyer for over ten years, and for the most part, I’d always thought that I’d enjoyed my job. But year after year of high-profile cases and demanding, high-maintenance clients was starting to make me feel much older than my thirty-seven years. Sometimes, in the mornings, I dreaded going into the office so much that my stomach ached. It was ridiculous – this was why I’d started my own firm, so I wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit. And even though my name was the only name on the door, I still felt as miserable as I did back when I’d been reporting to other, older lawyers that had mentored me through the years.
The sun outside was setting, and I decided that I was too muddled to do any more work for the rest of the day. I whistled as I grabbed my laptop and tucked it into my briefcase before shrugging on my overcoat and a plaid woolen scarf. Autumn in Boston was my favorite time of year, but I’d been working so much that I’d barely gotten the chance to enjoy it. My best friend Jack and his wife, Adele, kept inviting me to visit them at their home in Nassau, but I hadn’t taken more than a single day off in over two years. I knew that I needed to take a vacation or risk burning out, but I had so many high-profile cases at the moment that I wasn’t able to rest.
Maybe I should think about hiring another partner, I thought as I closed the office door behind me and made sure the door was locked. My office was located in a historic building downtown that dated back to the eighteenth century. When I’d first bought the building, I’d loved the idea of going to work there every day. But now the thought filled me with dread.
The air was crisp and chill, but it felt so good to be outside that I didn’t even think of taking a cab. I strolled along the brick streets, smelling the fresh scent of fall as I walked. As soon as I got home, I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto my leather couch, flipping through channels until I found a college football game. Mindless violence was always good, especially after the kind of day I’d had, and I found myself dozing off before halftime.
The buzzing of my phone in my pocket woke me up an hour later. Groggily, I reached into my pocket and swiped open the call.
“Hello?”
“How dare you treat my wife like that,” an angry male voice thundered. “She’s paying lots of good money – my money! – and I won’t have her disrespected!”
I squinted. “Sorry, who is this?”
“This is Harold Davis,” the man sputtered angrily. “Angela told me everything when she got home. She was practically traumatized! She said you ripped her dress like an animal and tried to have your way with her!”
I groaned. “Fuck,” I muttered. “No. That’s not what happened, not at all. Your wife came to me when we were wrapping up for the day. She tried to kiss me, and I turned her down. She was offended, and I told her to leave my office.”
“Well, that’s not what Angela said!” Harold yelled angrily. “And I won’t have it, Barnes! You’re fired!”
Fuck.
“I swear to god, I didn’t try to molest your wife,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “And I’ll have everything smoothed out as soon as possible, I promise.”
“Too late,” Harold snapped. “You’re fired, and this won’t be the last of it. I’m going to the papers, and I’m going to make sure they hear everything.” He hung up before I had the chance to argue.
My heart sank as I closed my eyes and flopped back on the couch, my head spinning. I couldn’t believe it – when was this shit going to end?
After thinking for a moment, I dialed Jack’s number.
“Barnes!” Jack said in a jovial voice. “My man! It’s been too long since I’ve heard from you!”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Look, I need your help,” I told Jack everything that had taken place in my office earlier.
Jack snorted. “She’s a fucking nut,” he said. “And aren’t they getting divorced?”
“Maybe her lie is the glue that’s going to fix their marriage,” I said sarcastically. “I don’t know. All I know is that my reputation is going to be trashed if I can’t manage to fix this on my own.”
Jack was silent for a long moment. “You know, you’re always welcome here. I could use a good lawyer,” he said. “Especially with all the developments I have in the works.”
“You know I couldn’t do that,” I said.
“What, move to Nassau?” Jack sounded surprised. “Man, it’s beautiful here. It’s like paradise. I don’t miss Boston at all.”
“No,” I said drily. “Rely on your charity to get me out of a bend. I have to make a change, Jack, but I don’t know what it is, yet.”
“You’re always welcome here,” Jack repeated firmly. “And I’m sure Adele would agree with me.”
I frowned. “I don’t think that’s the place for me,” I said.
“Well, why not come down for a while and figure it out?” Jack suggested.
I sighed. “I…I feel like I’d be running away from my problems,” I said honestly. “I know I have to make a change, but I’m not sure what it is.”
Jack paused. “Why not…I don’t know, move across the country? Did you ever want to do anything besides going to law school?”
“A lot of things,” I admitted. “But my father said it was always best to go with the most lucrative option.”
“Well, take some time off and explore something else,” Jack said. “And if it sucks, well, you can always try again.” He laughed. “That’s the beauty of life, right?”
I sighed. “Yeah,” I said. “I guess it really is.”
Chapter 3
Gianna
In the morning, I felt even worse. My parents had always treated me like a child, but sending my dad’s bodyguard after me was a new low. It was like they didn’t believe I was capable of doing anything on my own, even going out for a few drinks with my best friend.
I stayed in bed until it was past noon, staring at the ceiling and wondering what I’d have to do in order to get things to change. Around one-thirty, I grabbed my laptop and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over my legs as I settled in amongst the pillows. Rent can’t be that expensive around here, I thought as I began searching for local apartments. But I was astonished to learn how expensive everything was – it was practically impossible to find something within the Boston city limits for under fifteen hundred dollars a month!
I’d never really thought about money. I always had some – Mom and Dad usually gave me one hundred dollars every other week or so, and whenever I needed to go shopping, I borrowed Dad’s credit card (with his permission, of course.) But I’d never really paid for anything on my own. Back in high school, I’d always wanted to get a part time job. But Mom had said, “Gianna, that’s beneath you,” and that had been enough to discourage me. Plus, Jessica had worked for a local pizza place, and she’d never stopped complaining about how her hair and skin smelled like grease whenever she finished a shift. Between that and my mother’s comment, I hadn’t thought about working since.
But now, suddenly, the idea was almost appealing to me. I liked the idea of going out on my own, of forging my own way in the world and making my own living. After all, it couldn’t be that hard, could it?
I spent the rest of the day searching for local places that were hiring. There were a few restaurants and bars, so I sent in my name and phone number, hoping I could charm my way into a job. Obviously, I didn’t have any experience…but how
I was supposed to get that without working?
That night at dinner, Diane barely looked at me. She pushed her roasted pork chop around on her plate and didn’t speak.
“You’re both so quiet,” Mom said. She looked at me and narrowed her eyes.
I shrugged. I didn’t want to say anything about my day of searching until I actually landed a job. “I’m fine,” I said. “I’m just not very hungry.”
“Gianna, please don’t sulk,” Mom said lightly. “It’s very unattractive.”
I looked down at my plate and rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I said. “I won’t.”