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“Say whatever you’re thinking,” Steven said, knowing she would anyway.
“He’s perfect. You should have offered him the job.”
“That’s not how I do things.” He gathered his notes and the applications before stacking them neatly in a pile. After placing it on his lap, he left the conference room.
“What if someone else snaps him up?” Lanie demanded, following him into his office. “He’s the best candidate we’ve seen.”
“So far.” As he dropped the paperwork on his desk, he had to admit Mr. Ellerson was probably the best candidate they would see. But in some ways, that made him almost too good to be true.
“You’re assuming we’ll get more responses to our ad.”
He cocked his head. “Weren’t you the one who said the ad was still running and we might have more applicants?”
“That was before we interviewed the perfect fit,” she scoffed.
“Look, I’ll review my notes from today and sleep on it. If we don’t have any additional applications tomorrow, then I’ll make the decision.”
“And hope no one else gets to him first.”
In the end, Lanie was right. After letting the ad run for a few more days, no one else applied, and none of the other interviewees could hold a candle to Mr. Ellerson. When Steven called him later that week, he enthusiastically accepted the position. To Steven’s surprise, Mr. Ellerson was even willing to start immediately, and they planned his first day for the following week.
Despite not being medically cleared to do so, Steven went into the office that day. He wanted to be there to show the new guy around and make sure everything got off to a great start. Lanie, Sandra, and Leslie had promised they could handle it, but Steven wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
Michael Ellerson arrived promptly at nine o’clock that morning. His suit was freshly pressed, and his brown eyes were filled with excitement as Steven greeted him at the door. Steven showed him around the small office, reintroducing him to everyone before taking Michael to where he would be working.
“Wow, my own office,” Michael said, turning in the small space with a wide grin. “I figured I’d get a cubicle.”
It wasn’t much larger than a storage closet, though at least it had a window. Steven wished he had a better space to offer, but the only larger space available was being used as a conference room. If Steven hired a partner, that would likely change.
“We don’t have any of those,” Steven replied with a wry smile. “But I hope you can make yourself at home here.” He headed to the door. “I’ll leave you to get settled. We can meet in my office at ten to go over the cases I want to get you started on. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.” Michael set his bag down and pulled out his chair. “Do I need to do anything special to log in?”
“I’ll send Leslie in with instructions. Welcome to McAllister at Law.”
After stopping by Leslie’s desk, Steven entered his office, where his sister was waiting, perched on his desk with a coffee cup in hand. He accepted the cup and took a tentative sip. His lips quirked up as he tasted the robust flavor of real coffee.
“Rose is going to murder you,” he said, shaking his head.
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” Lanie angled her head toward the wall Steven’s office shared with Michael’s. “So, do you think this is going to work?”
He nodded. “I do.” Then he sighed. “Well, I hope so. Do you mind sticking around this morning when I meet with him? You and Sandra need to be aware of his workload so you can keep on top of things when I’m not here.”
“Sure thing,” Lanie said. “I’ll be in Sandra’s office. Come get me when you’re ready to meet with your new employee.”
In the meantime, Steven braced himself for a conversation he’d been dreading. While he had briefly spoken to Mr. Willoughby the other day after Rose had stormed out of his house, he’d promised his client a more in-depth conversation when he was back in the office.
The phone rang once before a gruff voice answered, “Hello?”
“Good morning, Mr. Willoughby. It’s Steven McAllister. Is now a good time to talk?”
“It’s about time. When do I get my day in court?”
Steven stifled a sigh. “I’ve drafted a response to your wife’s last proposal of settlement, and I’m working on a motion for a pretrial hearing. The judge may order mediation.”
“I don’t want to go to mediation,” Mr. Willoughby growled. “If you can’t get me my trial, I’ll have to go find someone who will.”
Same threat, different day. But since Steven couldn’t be sure Mr. Willoughby hadn’t already started shopping for a new attorney, he had to play the game.
