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Emery
“Hey,Emery, can I talk to you in my office for a second?” My boss, Rob, pops his head around the corner of my cubicle. Shit. I hope I didn’t forget something.
First-year associates always take the flack; something I’ve been learning rather quickly. There’s a level of hierarchy at a firm this size, and aside from interns, I’m at the bottom. I’m the one who’s going to sit and pour over files for hours, long after everyone else has gone home. At this stage, I’m a glorified researcher/assistant. Yes, the senior partners have asked me to get them coffee. More than once.
Not that I’m complaining because I’m living my dream. Being an attorney is all I can ever remember hoping to be, and now I am. I just have to work hard, and I’ll earn my spot on that wall with the other partners.
Ever since I was a little girl, I knew that I wanted to be an attorney. I’d put on my mom’s old high heels and prance around the house with a stack of books that was almost as tall as I was, pretending I was working on my next best case. There’s never been hesitation or doubt about my future, about what career I wanted to pursue.
“Yes, of course,” I say quickly, standing from my chair and smoothing down my black pencil skirt.
Following behind him, I walk into his massive, luxury office that only senior partners are afforded. The furniture is all dark mahogany wood. Sleek and masculine.
“Have a seat.” He gestures from the other side of his desk.
I swallow nervously, adjusting my skirt to sit in the wide chair opposite of him.
When he doesn’t immediately say anything, my nerves only intensify.
“I called you in here to talk because we’re hoping to take on a big case in the near future. A new client has reached out to us that would be game changing for this firm.”
I nod.
I watch as his fingers, one adorned with a gold wedding band, hover over the thick file on his desk.
“You’re a first-year associate, but you’ve got promise, Emery. You’re smart, cunning, and ambitious. Which is exactly what this firm needs, and even though you’re only starting out, I can tell your future is going to be bright. I’ve known even when you were still an intern that you were going places.”
My cheeks warm under his praise, but I manage to squeak out, “Thank you.”
Normally, I’m a confident girl. Overly confident sometimes. But when it comes to the senior partners, I’m all nerves. They have my career in the palm of their hands, and just as easily as they brought me in, can have me out the door. Years of interning and hard work out the window.
Just like that.
So, I do my best to fly under the radar, putting my head down and getting the job done. Efficiently and diligently.
“I want you and Camden working with this client. He hasn’t agreed to use our firm yet, and he’s a close friend of both my wife and I, so he’s granted us the opportunity to sit down and speak with him. He’s a philanthropist and investor here in Chicago.”
“And you want me to work on his case?” I ask in disbelief.
He laughs haughtily. “Yes, with Brandon’s assistance.” A junior partner.
But still. Holy shit. Being given the opportunity to work on a client of this caliber… it’s amazing. Unbelievable really.
“Thank you so much…for even considering me. I’m in shock.”
“You earned it. Now, the meeting isn’t going to be for another month and a half or so because of his prior commitments, but I wanted to bring you in and get you up to speed on the information that we have, so when it’s time, you can jump right in. We want to impress him with our knowledge, Emery.”
I nod. “Understandable. I won’t let you down, Rob. Thank you again.”
He nods and stands, extending his hand, which I quickly shake, praying he doesn’t feel how clammy my palm is in his. I exit his office, holding in the squeal until I’m back at my desk.
Wow, so not what I was expecting when Rob asked to talk to me.
I sit in my chair and immediately pull out my phone, firing off a quick text to the girls, saying celebratory drinks are needed. Stat. My phone vibrates with their responses, and I smile.
This is exactly what I needed to take my mind off the one person it shouldn't be on, the same one who’s been infiltrating my thoughts since our run-in at Holland’s.
The Avalanches’ very own playboy has been keeping me up for the past three nights against my will. He’s taken my mind hostage, and I’m even more annoyed at him for it. Partly because of the way he stepped closer to me, lowering his voice to a hoarse, raspy whisper in Holland’s kitchen, causing my core to tingle.
