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“I've been friends with Aaron for a while now. He and I are pretty close, actually,” he begins. “And I know that he can be – not to put too fine a point on it – a total prick sometimes.”
A burst of laughter escapes me. I quickly choke it back as I try to compose myself. A gentle smile crosses Redwood's face. For some strange reason, I feel a weird kinship with the man.
I know Aaron can be a prick sometimes. I’ve known for – well, years. I know he can be pushy and sometimes displays that sense of arrogant entitlement that has always driven me mad. To hear somebody else give voice to that thought is an awesome feeling. I'd never heard anybody call him on it before.
“But believe me when I say that deep down, Aaron is a good man,” Redwood continues. “He's got a good heart.”
And that's the rub. I know that he's a good guy. I know he's got a good heart and is both kind and generous. I know this. Or at least, I think he is. It's one of the most maddening things about him because he can say or do something incredibly sweet one minute and then something horribly insensitive and thoughtless the next. I saw plenty of it back in college, and I've seen enough of him since I started at Frontline to know that hasn't changed.
“You don't need to sell me on him, Mr. Redwood.”
“I'm not trying to,” he says. “I'm sure that given your history with Aaron, you know him in ways I probably don't.”
His words feel like a hammer blow to my stomach. “You know about – about him and me?”
Redwood nods. “A bit. I mean, I know you two dated back in college.”
Suddenly, everything he's been saying takes on a sinister tone for me. The fact that Aaron told him about us makes this feel like a setup to me. Almost like a threat. I'm not sure where this is going, or what to make of it.
“That was thirteen years ago,” I snap.
“It was,” he replies. “I just want to make sure there are no lingering issues that may become – situations.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It's just a question,” he says.
There's a strange, curious expression on his face as he looks at me – like he's genuinely perplexed by the question. An idea takes root in my mind. I can't quite shake it. It almost feels like Redwood is probing me, trying to see if I retain any feelings for Aaron, and what sort of complications might arise from that.
As a lawyer, I know Redwood's job is to protect his client, so he has to imagine every worst-case scenario and take measures to prevent them from happening. Or at least, find a way to shield his client – in this case, Aaron and Frontline as a whole – from the worst of the fallout of any issues that could arise.
I imagine a potential sexual harassment case against a known playboy by somebody he'd undoubtedly look to paint as a scorned lover has got to be one of Redwood's biggest worries. It's presumptuous and irritating as hell, but I know that the man is trying to do a job and protect his client as best as he can. That's a lawyer's job.
“So, in addition to being head of the legal department, you're Aaron's personal fixer,” I muse.
He laughs softly. “Hardly. I am his personal attorney –”
“Yeah, his fixer,” I shoot back.
Redwood chuckles and rubs his smooth jawline. “If you want to call me a fixer, that's fine,” he says. “I'm just trying to do my job, and part of that job is anticipating issues before they arise.”
“Is there an issue I'm not aware of?”
Redwood sighs and runs a hand through his hair again, looking a bit uncomfortable. I'm getting the impression that he's not telling me something. That he's on a bit of a fishing expedition here, trying to extract some information from me without giving away the reason he wants it. It's a pretty common lawyer trick – get the person being questioned talking to get them to inadvertently reveal something.
Finally, he sits up. I make note of the expression on his face. He looks like he's come to a decision, though I don't know what he was even debating with himself about.
“Aaron told me you're sharp,” he smiles. “And that you're one of the strongest, most passionate people he's ever met. I see now that all of those things are very true.”
I sit back in my seat and give him a curious eye. If he thinks I'm going to melt under his flattery and give him what he wants, he's not nearly as smart as I take him to be.
“Aaron said you wanted to be a lawyer, right?”
I nod. “I did – do – yes.”
He chuckles. “You certainly have the mind and the verbal sparring ability needed for the job.”
“Is there a point to this, Mr. Redwood?” I growl. “Do you have a question for me?”
