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“Sorry I couldn’t live up to your wild expectations.”
“Wild? Is it wild to want my son to follow in my footsteps and sit in my chair one day?”
“But you’ll only let me sit in the chair if I do it your way, if I live your way!”
His father’s last words echoed in his ears. “Your mother is worried about you. It’s been a long time since... you need to move on. Clare is gone, and nothing can bring her back.”
The sound of his wife’s name on his father’s lips nearly sent him over the edge. He had tightened every muscle in his body to keep from taking a swing at his father. Violence was not the answer. John Griffin only understood one thing: business.
But the heated argument wasn’t the only reason he’d almost taken a drink after three and a half years. Holidays reminded him of the family he’d lost. The months of November and December were almost unbearable. He missed taking the boys to Santa, buying them something special he knew would light up their little faces, and watching them tear into their presents on Christmas morning.
Holidays were a depressing time for him...unless he found a good distraction.
Skylar packed his belongings while composing his resignation in his mind.
His father’s words continued to haunt him, interrupting the flow of his mental letter.“Your mother wants me to retire. I planned to wait for you to be ready, but I don’t see how I possibly can. You aren’t in any condition to take over. You’ve shown me you can’t handle the pressure.”
His parents didn’t approve of his lifestyle. Skylar played poker in Atlantic City a couple of times a month and engaged in what his family considered risky behavior. So what if he enjoyed skydiving? Mountain climbing? Swimming with sharks? That didn’t make him crazy or unreliable.
Before Skylar had time to digest the information, his father had hit him with a brutal decision.“I will recommend you take my chair at the table, but Lincoln will be the man in charge after I leave.”
Lincoln Pierce was a bully and a bore. He didn’t have the common sense most people took for granted. If he was in charge of the firm, it would quickly become a cesspool of corrupted lawyers using every dirty trick in the book to keep their wealthy clients from paying the consequences for their actions. The idea made Skylar sick to his stomach. He was done defending people he knew for a fact were guilty.
And that added to his numerous reasons for quitting.
But his number one reason was he’dalmosttaken a drink.
After arguing with his father he had gone to a bar and ordered a shot of Jack. One shot would have quickly turned to fifteen. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about that. He had picked the glass up slowly, closed his eyes, and sniffed the amber liquid. It was like coming home after decades in prison. At the last second, he saw his reflection in the mirror behind the bartender.
He’d called his sponsor instead of getting drunk.
Shaking himself out of the past, he tossed the sobriety chip into the box. Next, he put his framed Harvard law degree inside along with a signed baseball, pictures, and assorted papers. The last thing he packed was the photo of Clare and the boys. Since their deaths, he’d kept it upside down in the bottom drawer. Looking at it was difficult. He wanted to remember them, but seeing their happy faces made his heart ache.
Taking a deep breath, he turned the photograph over for his first look in nearly a year. His breath caught. The fact he was standing on his feet, making decisions, and living his life was a miracle in itself. He even managed to smile on occasion. On the outside, he appeared to be like everybody else walking down the street. On the inside, he felt broken beyond repair.
His gaze went to the daily planner on his desk. He contemplated all the clients he needed to call. Most of them had followed him to his father’s law firm, so they would go with him... unless he went to work for the other side and became a prosecutor.
Skylar glanced at his watch. He should have already been gone, but a missed elevator had thrown him off schedule that morning. The doorman had ignored his shout and sent what appeared to be an empty elevator up without him. He needed to hurry. His mother wasn’t going to like the fact he quit. Years ago he’d promised to keep an eye on his father at work, do as much as he could to lighten the man’s heavy load without him knowing, and make sure he didn’t drop dead from a heart attack. Mission accomplished.
Maybe she wouldn’t mind that he quit now. After all, his father was finally going to retire and take her on adventures around the world. Skylar wouldn’t be needed anymore. He could take the coveted job of Assistant District Attorney if he wanted and prosecute evil maniacs instead of releasing them onto the street.
He began to whistle as he carried his box past his flustered secretary. A heavy burden lifted off his shoulders. He would stop at the conference room on his way down to the lobby and resign in person. That way his father couldn’t pretend he didn’t receive his resignation. Nothing was going to stop him from quitting. Nothing.
♥♥♥
Anna’s parents had drummed it into her head at an early age that being tardy showed a lack of respect for others. It was better for her to be inconvenienced and have to wait onthemthan for them to have to wait on her. The irony was if her parents had been running late that fateful day, they would have missed being hit by a drunk driver. Tardiness would have saved their lives.
“You’re late,” Erika complained from the doorway. “Mr. Griffin called up from the conference room. He didn’t sound happy.”
Anna hesitated, her eyes on the wall clock. Her stomach muscles tightened. It was now or never. She nodded at Erika and stepped into the hallway.
Erika hurried her to the row of elevators with both hands on her back. The door was closing. Erika pushed her through the small opening before it shut all the way. Now more than ever Anna needed an empty metal box so she could practice her breathing techniques and count things to keep her mind occupied.
The door shut before she could get her bearings, and the elevator began to descend. That was when she noticed the other occupant, the last person she wanted to be trapped in an elevator with: Griffin’s son.
Skylar gave her the expected customary nod to acknowledge her existence.
Pursing her lips together, she returned the gesture. She didn’t see any reason to pretend they liked each other. Three years ago when she’d joined the firm he had almost destroyed her career within a week. Stubborn and bad-tempered, Skylar had treated her like his personal gopher rather than a colleague with a law degree. Things only got worse when his father put them on the same trial. She’d been second chair, of course, but Skylar wouldn’t listen to a word she said. Every time she opened her mouth he cut her off. Then while she was considering going to his father about the situation, Skylar complained to the man abouther. He had almost gotten her fired. She’d been pulled off the trial and put on a case that a monkey could have won.
