by R. C. Martin
“Slummin’ it this mornin’, are you?” he jibes.
Shrugging, I offer him a crooked smile and reply, “Figured I’d come gather my troops. I’ve got a couple cases that need a bit of work this week.”
“Pleased to have you on the top floor, mate. I really am.”
He claps his hand against my shoulder, and I dip my chin in a nod of acknowledgment. I know his words are genuine. I’ve worked on more than a few cases with Parker over the years. Much like the associates clearing their desks now, I was once under his leadership. Hearing him congratulate me as I step up as his equal, it means a hell of a lot.
“I appreciate that, Maverick.”
“I’d wish you good luck on your first day, but I know you too well. Try not to be too hard on them, yeah? Remember you were once in their shoes.” He starts to walk by me, but then stops and asks, “Lunch sometime this week?”
“I think I could swing that.”
Backing his way toward the elevators, he points a finger my way and calls out, “I’ll have Adele check my schedule and coordinate with your secretary. I presume you’ve met her. She all right?”
My memory brings an image of Sigourney to the forefront of my mind. All right isn’t exactly the way I would describe her. Nevertheless, the words I would use are not ones I wish to disclose to Maverick right now. Or ever.
“Yeah. She’s good,” I mutter vaguely.
Waving his hand as he turns toward the elevators, he departs with a booming, “Cheers! Enjoy the day, my good man.”
I take another sip of my coffee as I shift my attention into the bunker. I spot my two associates, and it’s not long before they’re headed my way, boxes in hand. Having looked into their records and past performance, I know already that Lydia is the smartest between the two, while Chandler is the relentless one. Both of them have skills and characteristics I could use to my advantage, and I intend to do just that, starting immediately.
Before either of them opens their mouth to make me promises I know they’re unlikely to keep, I announce, “We’ve got work to do. Drop off your things, then meet me in my office.”
“Yes, sir,” Chandler mutters assertively.
“Dane,” I reply as I start to make my exit. “Just Dane.”
AVA IS AMAZING. Within the first five minutes of our time together, I learn that she’s a single thirty-three-year-old and originally from a small town in Wyoming. Rebecca hired her six years ago, and she claims they’ve been inseparable business partners ever since. After my interview process with Rebecca, it doesn’t take much for me to imagine why Ava is so loyal. I instantly like that about her.
She spends most of the morning giving me a thorough tour of all three floors which make up Croft, Sloan, Parker, & Croft. I take notes as she deciphers the organizational system of the file room on the forty-seventh floor, and she introduces me to her favorite go-to tech experts on the forty-eighth. Apparently, it pays to have a couple contacts down there. The few people I meet along the way seem friendly enough, and I find that the attractive décor I admire upstairs is carried through on all three levels.
Then, Ava takes me to the library. When I walk into the room, filled with law books, I know I’m stepping into my favorite spot. Housed just a floor below us, it’s not nearly as big as the library I studied in at L.A. Law, but it’s still pretty impressive. Of course, I’m sure the collection of books is centered around the parts of the law that the four partners specialize in, but it’s not just the books themselves that I’m drawn to. It’s the ambiance of a quiet space meant for research. It’s the ideal spot to sneak away on my lunch break when I want to get in a little more study time for the bar exam. Simply being in the room makes me feel inspired.
The second half of our morning is spent stocking my desk full of supplies and getting me into the computer system. I’ve never considered myself to be particularly IT savvy, but it doesn’t take much for me to pick up the basics I need to be effective during my first week. Before I know it, Ava is complaining about her hunger, and we are out the door two minutes later. Now, as we sit down to lunch at her favorite salad place, I’m getting an education of a different kind.
“For obvious reasons, Rebecca is my favorite partner. You strike me as someone who’s done her research, so I’m guessing you already know her law background?”
Grinning around my fork full of spinach and arugula, I extract the utensil as I offer her a nod of affirmation. Lifting a hand to cover my mouth, I admit, “I know she specializes in contract law, and she’s been a partner for nearly ten years. I also read up on Parker and Croft—Croft senior, that is. The website didn’t have much to say about Dane.”
She hums, swallowing her bite before she points her fork at me. “By the end of the day, anyone who cares to know will be aware that the firm has a new partner. I’m sure his name will be plastered everywhere, and the IT team will have the website updated by lights out.”
I raise my eyebrows at her, curious about the adamancy of her tone. “Wow, is he really like that?”
“Dane? No,” she scoffs, shaking her head at me. “He’s known all summer that the corner office would be his. I’m sure he’s ready to see his name on the door, but he’s too big picture to sweat the details.
“Rebecca, on the other hand—it’s in her nature to care about the fine print. She’ll be back from her long weekend tomorrow, and she’ll expect the office to be up to snuff on the recent name change.”
I spear my fork into another bite of salad, storing that tidbit of information in the back of my mind as she continues to chat.
“Anyway, here’s what you won’t find on the internet about the partners at the firm. Rebecca is the mother hen. She’s a sweetheart, even when she’s being a hard ass. I dream of being her when I grow up,” she informs me with a smirk. “You don’t strike me as the type, but be careful. She’s not one you want to take advantage of. She’s a strong woman—independent, smart, and incredibly private about personal matters. With her, what you do outside of the office is your business. Very don’t ask, don’t tell, if you will. I swear, I’ve been trying to get the insider scoop about her dating life for years. No dice.”
“Rebecca—private, sweetheart, hard-ass. Got it.”
Laughing, Ava nods as she confesses, “I like you. You’re quick. All right, Maverick. He’s simple. He moved here from London twenty years ago; went to law school, met the love of his life, and they’ve been living happily ever after since the day they said I do. He works hard and the hours he keeps are long, but his family is fiercely important to him. Every spare moment he has is spent with them. Office parties, the occasional happy hour, he’s a no go—but that doesn’t mean he’s not a team player. If you ever need any type of legal advice, he’s always got a listening ear. He does a lot of walking and talking, so he’s good for a quick chat between appointments, even if that means you’re giving him your spiel on the elevator ride to the garage.”
Speaking through a smile, loving every bit of this, I recount, “Maverick—committed, family man, advice guru. Got it.”
Waggling her eyebrows, she props herself up on her elbows, resting on top of the table, and leans toward me. “Now things get a little juicy.”
I set aside my fork, folding my arms on the surface in front of me, and lean toward her in response. “Still listening.”
“Allen. My best advice is to stay far away.”
My eyes grow round in surprise, as I’m now feeling too curious for my own good. Earlier, I was informed that Allen and Dane are father and son. Currently, I have no idea what their relationship is like or how far the apple falls from the tree—but hearing Ava’s warning makes me feel ill at ease.
“He’s one of the original founders of the firm. He has the most invested. He owns forty percent of the company. Needless to say, he’s not going anywhere any time soon, no matter how much everyone else despises him.”
“When you say everyone else, do you mean…?”
“Every-one else—
except for his flavor of the month.”
Shaking my head clear, I sit up straight and ask, “I beg your pardon?”
“Over the course of the last six years, I’ve lost count of how many women he’s slept with in our office. When he’s bored and he drops one woman for another, sometimes the discarded ones stay, but sometimes they leave. We don’t have an abnormally high turnover rate, but I’d be willing to guess that of the females who quit, at least half of them walk out after having been pleasured by Mr. Croft.”
“Wait—we’re talking about Dane’s dad?”
“Girl, don’t ask me how that sixty-year-old man still gets pussy, but he does.”
“And after all this time, no one has ever tried to sue for sexual harassment?”
“Hey, I don’t know what goes on behind closed doors,” she confesses, lifting her hands in a sign of surrender. “I don’t know what he promises them or if he threatens them—all I know is that he covers his tracks well. He knows the law. And a pretty little thing like you…” Her voice trails off as she shakes her head knowingly. “Stay as far away from him as you can manage, and don’t forget the Croft you’ve been assigned.”
Before she gets a chance to say anything else, her phone chimes, beckoning her attention toward her purse. She reaches inside and holds up the screen so I can see that our lunch hour has already flown by.
“We’ve got to get back. I promised Dane I’d return you this afternoon, and there are still a couple little things I want to show you.”
I follow her lead, gathering my trash and dumping it in the bin on our way out. For the duration of our short walk back to the building, I can’t shake what she had to say about Allen Croft. Furthermore, I regret that we didn’t have a little more time to discuss Dane, whom I’m still having a hard time piecing together. While I don’t think he puts off any sort of womanizer vibe, and Ava seems to like him, I wonder if father and son have anything in common.
Allen—majority share holder, womanizer, scumbag—got it.
I’M IN THE middle of reading a deposition for a case that goes to trial in two days when my father strolls into my office. For a split second, I feel like I’m thirteen-years-old all over again, doing homework in my bedroom, with no say in who can come and go into my space. So long as I was living in my father’s house, every space belonged to him.
However, I’m no longer a teenager, and this is not his house.
I offer him no more than a cursory glance before I go back to the papers in front of me, muttering, “I’m busy. You can show yourself out.”
“That’s no way to greet a fellow partner—especially not one coming to wish you well on your first day.”
Lifting my head once more, I keep my face blank, masking my distaste for the smug smile he wears. I don’t bother keeping the distain from my voice as I remind him, “You neither knocked, nor bothered to ask if you could have a moment of my time. Now, you’ve wished me well, and you can see your way out. I have work to do. Some of us still make our money taking on cases.”
“No need to be nasty, son. I thought you might like some friendly advice—man to man. This is a big promotion for you.”
“I’m well aware of my new status. I also know that I got here by my own efforts and not a word of your advice. I don’t see why I should switch things up now.”
He sucks a loud breath through his teeth—a habit of his that grates on my nerves—and shoves his hands into his pockets. Shaking his head, he tells me, “Your arrogance has always been your greatest weakness.”
My eyebrows shoot up in disbelief as I scoff, “My arrogance? My arrogance?”
I laugh a humorless laugh, willing myself to keep calm. I refuse to stoop to his level and take his bait. I don’t have time for his shit. Standing to my feet, I prop the knuckles of my fists against the top of my desk and look him straight in his eyes—eyes the same fucking blue as my own. Fortunately, it’s one of the only attributes of himself that he passed down to me.
“I don’t know if you noticed, but my name was put on the door right behind you more than an hour ago,” I state, tipping my chin in that direction. “This office is mine, which means I have a say in who can and cannot cross that threshold. As I told you before, I’m busy—and you can go now.”
At first, he doesn’t move. He just stands there, smirking at me, as if he knows something I don’t. I’m sure he wishes to make me squirm, but I’m not intimidated by the likes of him. I haven’t been for a long time. When he finally turns to take his leave, he walks two steps and then stops short.
“Well, well,” he murmurs, twisting his neck to look back at me with a mischievous grin. “Who do we have here?”
My eyes flick to look around him, where I see Avangeline and Sigourney returning to Sigourney’s desk. Avangeline is speaking, using her hands to explain whatever it is she’s saying, and neither of them are paying us any mind. When I shift my gaze back onto my father, I find him staring—his focus glued to Sigourney, as if she’s his fucking prey.
“Don’t even think about it. She’s mine, and I will not let you play with her.”
Chuckling softly, he turns his body enough to glance at me as he says, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Stay away from her,” I warn, not wishing to play his stupid game.
I’m not ignorant. When it comes to his office dalliances, not many are. Over the years, he’s grown more and more careless—his age and his seemingly invincible status at this firm making him arrogant.
“Someone sounds threatened.”
I clench my jaw closed tight, my rein on my frustration growing weak. It takes me a second to trust my voice again before I repeat, “Stay away from her.”
“It would be rude of me to leave your office and not say hello. She is the newest face around here, and introducing myself is the respectful thing to do. Surely you won’t mind my meeting your secretary.”
I bite my tongue as he makes his way to the door. The look in his eye is telling—the greedy bastard. I can only hope that Rebecca didn’t hire me a woman easily charmed by a snake with money. That’s how he reels them in. I’m sure of it. His current secretary makes a decent wage, but I’m certain she can’t afford a new designer purse every other week.
I watch my father as he approaches Avangeline and Sigourney. A part of me feels compelled to go out there and run interference; but there’s another part of me that wishes to see how she will handle herself. I read her body language closely, and I can tell right away that his reputation precedes him. Avangeline must have warned her.
Good.
When I spot Meghan out of the corner of my eye, her focus unwavering as she moves quickly to join the small group, I stifle a groan. Reluctantly, I come from behind my desk. I know one of my father’s puppies coming to mark what she believes to be her territory when I see one.
Christ—I don’t have time for his bullshit.
ADMITTEDLY, I’M A little bit fascinated by the man who stands in front of me. If it weren’t for his eyes, I wouldn’t be able to tell the family resemblance between father and son—but those aqua blue irises are an unmistakable shared trait. Except, the way he uses them doesn’t so much fascinate me as it creeps me out.
I’ll give him some credit. For a man in his sixties, he’s aging remarkably well. His blond hair is mostly silver, and he keeps it cropped neatly. Unlike his son, he’s clean shaven; and while he appears a bit bulkier than Dane, I can tell by the way he puffs out his chest that it’s not fat he’s hiding underneath his suit. His arrogance in his appearance is derived from his efforts to stay in shape. Even still, it’s that same arrogance which makes him completely unappealing.
I can tell by the way he welcomes me to the team that he thinks he’s charming. I’m sure, even without Ava’s warning about his character, I would have been able to see right through him. He’s slimy. I’ve met men like him before—men who think their money and their status make them more alluring than it actually does. Sometimes, I pity them.
It’s obvious there’s some sort of void in their lives, and they’re seeking validation of some kind. In Allen’s case, I don’t so much pity him as I feel embarrassed for Dane.
No wonder he’s so intense. He has to combat the reputation his father has created, and all because they share the same name.
“Allen, I’ve been waiting. I gathered those files you asked for. I thought you said it was ur—well, hello.”
I cast my attention onto the petite brunette who approaches in a huff, trying to mask my surprise when she shifts her focus onto me.
I’m not sure who this woman is, but she doesn’t look like she belongs in a law office. Her face is pretty enough, even with all the makeup she has caked on. She’s also got the shiniest chestnut colored hair I’ve ever seen—but those are where her appropriate features stop. The dress she has on is so tight, there’s no way she’s wearing any underwear. This makes the slit that travels halfway up her thigh extraordinarily concerning. The neckline is also cut so low I can almost make out the lace that lines the top of her bra. She doesn’t have much cleavage to boast of, but that’s hardly the point.
While her focus is still on me, my gaze bounces back and forth between her and Allen, still trying to figure out who she could possibly be. When I see the way his eyes darken at the sight of her, I almost gag.
“You must be little Croft’s new secretary. I’m Meghan,” she’s informs me, holding out her hand for me to shake.
Hesitantly, I return the gesture as I reply, “I’m Sally.”
“Welcome to the firm,” she says, resting her hands on her hips.
I swear, if she had gum, she’d be popping it right now.
Shit—I feel judgy. But, I mean, come on! No underwear.
“I’ve been Allen’s secretary for two years now. If you ever need anything, let me know.”