I smile awkwardly because after his introduction, there’s really not much for me to say.
“That’s very impressive,” Hayes says and swivels around in the chair with the abnormally high back that’s been turned to face the window.
A rush of gooseflesh runs over my body and a cold dread blooms in my stomach. I bite back my gasp and smile, even though the effort makes my face ache. I knew he was going to be here, but it’s still hard to feel comfortable given everything that’s going on between us.
“Ah, I didn’t see you, kid,” Remi says good-naturedly and walks over to Hayes, who stands up. His eyes cut to mine and his expression is completely unreadable.
“Nice view, Wilde.” He nods out the window. It overlooks the green of Rivers Wilde, and from here, with red and white awning and sparkling clean streets, it looks like something out of a postcard.
“It is.” Remi smiles, and I want to knock their heads together. “Glad you’re here, actually. We have our new lawyer here today, it’ll be good—” The door behind us opens and Barry, the Partner who is acting as lead lawyer for the case, hurries into the room.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Remington,” he says without addressing anyone else—not even the clients. They both stood up when he entered the room, and he dumps his briefcase, a box of files, and his coffee onto the table and mutters to no one in particular, “This fucking traffic is a killer,” and they sit down. His toothy grin turns into a thin and insincere smile when he looks at me.
“Oh, I didn’t realize she was joining us,” he says to Remington without addressing me.
“Her conflicts cleared, and I figured this would be a great place to get her feet wet and maybe give her a chance to give input when she gets back,” he says without any sign of irritation at Barry’s barbed words.
“We don’t need her input,” Barry says dismissively.
“Why don’t you need her input?” Hayes asks, and I stifle a groan at the tone in his voice. I wish he would look at me so I can give him a warning look. I don’t want or need him fighting my battles for me.
“Because I think we should settle,” Barry says easily, missing the thread of warning in Hayes’s voice. The clients both gasp, “What?”
“Trust me,” he says in a patronizing voice before he turns his wannabe megawatt smile on Hayes. “Mr. Rivers, I’m Barry Jimenez, the lead attorney for the class,” he says and walks over, his beefy hand extended and his chest is puffed out like he’s walking into a boxing ring.
Hayes eyes him and then his hand for a moment just long enough to be awkward before he shakes it. “We’re glad you made the time to come today and we’re fully prepared to discuss settlement. I know that’s what you want and I think it’s in everyone’s best interest.”
“We haven’t discussed this,” Remi says.
“That’s not unusual. I don’t discuss case strategy on every case with you.” He pushes a lock of his messy brown hair off his forehead, and I think he might be attractive if he wasn’t such jerk.
“I think we should go ahead and settle.” He finally addresses his clients and reiterates with a little more deference in his voice.
“I know she’s an ‘expert.’” He makes air quotes around the word, and I dislike him even more than I did yesterday. His dismissal of me sets my teeth on edge. “But like I’ve been saying since her interview, I’m sure she wrote a great paper in law school, but in actual practice, I just don’t see how her contribution will be valuable.” He waves a hand in my direction and Hayes’s lips thin and curl upward in a menacing scowl.
Barry continues to jump on the thin ice he’s standing on, oblivious that he’s courting danger. Watching Hayes get offended on my behalf pisses me off, because no one has offended me more than he has. And unlike loving him, the world of big law is a jungle I feel perfectly capable of navigating and defending myself.
Remi looks down at the two clients and says, “Could you excuse us, please? I’d like the lawyers to have a chance to talk before we go on. I apologize, but if you two could just wait in the small room you were in before we came in, I’ll come get you when we’re ready.”
One of the women crosses her arms over her chest and sets her chin. “Why doesn’t he have to leave?” She points at Hayes. “Isn’t he a client, too?” she asks. I like her. I’m glad she’s not taking their shit.
“I’m leaving, too,” Hayes responds. He walks over to the women and offers each of them an arm. His face is solemn, his smile sincere when he says, “Ladies, let me escort you out. Let’s leave the dirty work to the lawyers.” Ms. Gauthier, the older of the two smiles prettily, her cheeks flush as she stands up and takes the proffered arm.
“Jo, he’s trying to sweeten us up so they can do us wrong,” Ms. Swanson says and grabs her friend’s elbow and tugs her free of Hayes.
“But I want him to sweeten me up,” Jo says and pulls free of her friend. She smiles up at Hayes and takes his arm and bats her eyelashes up at him.
“Your wish is my command,” he says smoothly. He holds his elbow out to Ms. Swanson again and says jokingly, “Come on, I don’t bite.” His smile is so charming that it makes my fool heart flutter.
They walk out of the room, and when Hayes walks past the head of the table where I’m standing, our eyes meet. The air rushes from my lungs. There’s unmistakable, naked desire in his eyes. It’s territorial and so intense it feels like his hand is around my throat. I flush hot when I remember the way he had me last night.
He smiles and winks subtly before he continues walking.
When the door closes behind him, Barry pounces. “They’re offering more money than most of these people will ever see in their lives. Litigation is going to be expensive, and this is a pro bono venture. There isn’t much to discuss. I’ve got a trial coming up and I would like to focus. And maybe I could use Ms. Ryan for the document review there.” He says this as if he’s doing me a favor.
“Document review? You can’t be serious,” I gasp before I can stop myself.
Everyone’s eyes fly to me, and I feel an immediate pang of regret and close my eyes briefly. But then, I open them and look him in his eyes. Because, truth be told, he’s not wrong. I don’t think I’m the smartest person in this room. About this topic, I know I am.
“I’m dead serious. I know Remi hired you. But, I made no secret of my opposition. You’ve got baggage, you think you’re the smartest person in the room, and you clearly don’t know how to be seen and not heard,” he says in rapid fire succession like he’s been holding it in.
I glance at Remi and he raises an eyebrow like he’s asking you gonna let him get away with that?
I look around the room and wish I had a button to press pause. Inside, I’m fuming. But I won’t let that show because this is how the best lawyers earn their stripes. Barry Jimenez is one of the best litigators in the country. He’s won the Department of Justice’s Silver Eagle Award twice. He’s only one of a handful of people to ever do it. And he’s doing to me what was done to him. I know if I back down, he’ll lose any respect he has for me.
I remind myself that he’s my boss. When I respond, I say, “I reviewed the settlement offer, and I disagree,” I say simply.
“Thanks for your opinion,” he says. “Let’s get started,” he says and pulls open file folder.
“Gentlemen,” he says to all of us and nods at the table. Lucky for me, I’ve never waited for an invitation to sit at any table and I won’t start today.
I sit down, open my file and start looking over the notes I made.
“So, we’re giving everyone six months and a five thousand-dollar voucher for furniture and clothes, right?” Barry ticks the broad terms off the list on his fingers.
“That’s right.” Amelia nods.
“I think that sounds very generous,” Remi says, and my eyes fly to him. He meets my gaze, and challenges, “Tell me why I’m wrong.”
“Yes, Coincidence, tell us why all of our years of experience should yield to your law r
eview article,” Barry says snidely.
I eye him and let the scorn I’m feeling show.
He’s my boss, and I respect his career, and I don’t give a shit about him making fun of my name. If anything, it shows how unoriginal he is. But damn if I’m going to sit here and be quiet while he screws our clients.
“My experience may be ten percent of yours when it comes to sitting at tables like this one. But when it comes to the way the law treats uninsured, non-property-owning survivors of natural disasters, you’re not even a speck in my rearview mirror. I’m not going to sit here while you sell the people who entrusted their entire futures to you and this firm down the proverbial river,” I say. “Excuse the pun.”
“Tell us how giving them more money than they’ll ever see is selling them short? You think years of litigation while they sit in limbo is helping them?”
“I think giving them what they deserve, something that makes them whole instead of something that’s essentially a basket of fish with no way to catch more.”
“This flood will affect them for generations. Homes were lost. Valuable, irreplaceable things are gone. Their children are traumatized. They need some sort of therapy or something to help them work through some of the trauma we are supposed to be helping them.”
“Therapy? Give me a fucking break, Remi,” Barry says in exasperation.
“Remi, this feels like amateur hour,” Amelia says and I flush. “You’re putting foal who doesn’t know how to walk into a pasture full of hungry wolves,” she says derisively.
“Amelia,” Remi says in a warning tone.
“My client and I are leaving. We will send a final settlement offer. You tell us what you think. We want to make people whole, but we’re not paying for more than that,” she says. She gathers her dark leather Gucci briefcase and strolls out.
“Conscience, we’re not talking about my children. Their children are conditioned in a way mine are not,” he says, and this time I decide his intentional flubbing of my name is actually a Freudian slip. I’ll happily be their conscience. And the champion of the people who aren’t here to make their voices heard.
“How, exactly?”
“They live in neighborhoods where crisis abounds,” he says.
“Have you been to their neighborhood?” I ask the question of everyone at the table.
Both of them—Remi included—shake their head no.
Disappointment settles heavily around my shoulders. “Why not?” I ask.
“We’ve seen pictures; that’s sufficient,” Barry says.
“That is not sufficient,” I snap. My voice is sharp, but I find it reprehensible that no one has even been there.
“Sorry, who the fuck are you, even? Why are you doing more than getting me coffee at this point?” Barry says suddenly. His temper has apparently broken free of whatever was caging it.
“Coffee? Who are you talking to?” I ask him—suddenly incensed. Propriety is forgotten.
“You,” he points at me, his teeth bared.
Remi stands up and comes between us.
“Listen, I’m not here to be referee. Barry, this isn’t dictatorship. But, Confidence, I think we should at least entertain an offer. Let’s see what they come back with,” Remi says and the stony glare on his face doesn’t leave room for any push back.
The conference room doors open and hits the wall behind it so hard it bounces off.
“You’re fired,” Ms. Swanson says when she bursts into the room.
Barry glares daggers. “Look what she’s done,” he hisses and points at me accusingly.
“No, I’m talking to you,” Ms. Swanson says to Barry. “You are fired. We want her. You don’t care about us. We’ve been talking and we don’t want to settle. We want someone who will do what’s right and not what’s easy. And if we can’t get her, then we’ll go somewhere else, and try to convince them to hire her over there. But either way, you’re fired.” Then she turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
“You know what? Good luck,” Barry snaps. “And Remi, just a heads-up since you’re clearly too blind to see it, but Hayes Rivers is fucking her. Or at least, he wants to.” His eyes rake over me with a lascivious, angry light in his dark eyes. “And maybe you do, too, because I don’t know why the fuck you hired her.” He gathers up his files and briefcase and storms out of the conference room.
Remi shakes his head and looks at me as he starts toward the door.
“I’ve got to leave for the day. I have a client to see. I’ve got some questions I need you to answer. And consider yourself the new lead counsel for this case.”
“You’re not going to fire me?” I breathe out in a rush before I can stop myself.
“No, I’m not,” he says like he can’t believe it himself. “You better be worth all this trouble.”
Relief—rich and hot—floods through me, and I wonder if this is how people who receive a reprieve from death feel.
“I promise I—”
“I run at seven a.m. every morning,” he says abruptly and that shuts me up and brings my eyes to his face. He’s frowning at me.
“Good ... for you?” I say when he doesn’t elaborate.
“Very good for me. And, while I’m running, I want to be reading your answers. I’ll expect them in my inbox by then. You’re down a team member, so plan on being here all night, Ryan,” he says and then he’s gone.
SETTLING
HAYES
“You can’t go in there, Mr. Rivers.” The frantic voice of the woman sitting at the desk outside of Remington’s office calls after me as I walk right past her into his office.
“Wilde, what the hell—” I stop in my tracks. He’s not alone. Confidence, that asshole who’d talked to my woman like she was beneath him, and two men and one other woman are sitting huddled around the small conference table in front of the corner window of his office.
“Rivers, what the hell?” Remi stands up and looks over my shoulder.
“Mr. Wilde, he just walked right past me,” the woman says from behind me.
“Rachel, it’s fine. Just shut the door behind you,” he says to her before he looks back at me.
Confidence is watching me like a deer caught in the headlights.
“What are you doing here?” Remi asks and I look back at him.
“You rejected our settlement offer. Last week when we met you seemed ready to entertain it. Do you know how hard I had to lobby to get them to agree to the terms we presented? You will not get a single dime more out of us,” I warn him.
“Oh, yes, we will,” says Confidence as she stands up.
The other man slams his hand onto the table. “Remi, I am not going to sit here and watch this shit. You hired this person over my objection. You’re letting her pilot this and she’s decided to go full kamikaze.”
“Barry, we’ve discussed this.” Remington’s voice is low, but it’s got a thread of steel in it that raises my already high esteem of this guy even higher. It says more than the four words he spoke.
But Barry’s rage has blinded him to the danger.
“No, she wants to stick it to her ex, so she’s using this lawsuit as a weapon,” he spits out.
“I’m not her fucking ex,” I say.
“Okay, fine, her former fuck buddy, whatever,” he spits. I turn to him and look at him more closely. Who the fuck is this guy?
“What the fu—”
“Barry, you’re about to cross a line,” Remi says and shoots me a warning glance.
“You’ve already crossed one, Remi. I know this is your firm, but I’m a partner, too. And I won’t sit here and watch all of you be hypnotized by a nice ass and a smile,” he says.
“You better shut the fuck up,” I growl and Confidence stands up, her shock apparently worn enough to loosen her tongue.
“Hayes, I don’t need you to fight my battles—”
“Remi, this is highly inappropriate. You shouldn’t have hired her in the first place. But to assign h
er to this case—it presents a clear conflict of interest.” He cuts her off and rakes his eyes over her body in a way that nobody but me is allowed to look at her.
I walk over to him and get in his face. “You’ve got one more time to interrupt her, insult her, or look at her,” I growl.
“Or what? You going to beat me up?” he asks. “I heard you like to do that,” he says with a small smirk.
“All of you, stop it!” Confidence shouts angrily. Her fists are balled at her sides, her shoulders are hunched, and she’s squeezed her eyes shut. “First of all, stop talking about me like I’m not here,” she says. “You’re arguing about who gets to have their way. Who gets to decide. And while you’re doing that, people are living in limbo at best. At worst, they’re sheltered in homes with walls breeding mildew. They are terrified that their children are breathing mold spores when they put them to sleep in the only home they can manage to find for them.” She slaps her hands down on the table and leans forward. She looks between us.
“They’re not greedy, grasping idiots that we should pay off so we can get back to defending white-collar criminals and helping banks find new ways to screw their customers,” she hisses. She looks at Barry and shakes her head. “Do you think I want your job? I don’t. There’s a whole slew of things you know more about than I can ever hope to, but this is my specialty. And the size of my tits, the color of my hair, or the man I love, have nothing to do with any of it. This is not about you and how you feel about women or me,” she snaps. She is vibrating with passion, and she’s never been more breathtaking than she is right now.
I’m struck by the certainty of a few things. One, this woman loves me. She’s trying to forgive me. But, I also know that if her clients end up with less than what they deserve, her estimation of me will always suffer for it. And my estimation of myself, as a man who is worthy of leading this family—with her by my side—into a future we can be proud of, will suffer too.
She looks at Remi and her voice softens. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for trusting me with this,” she says and then glances at me.
The Rivals Page 22