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CHAPTERONE
Dean
Multicolored lights twinkled above the bar, reflecting off the cheap tinsel garland along the walls, while a giant eyesore of a Christmas tree stood in the far corner, the floor underneath laden with fake gifts. It was as if an elf puked up all of its Christmas cheer after indulging in one too many eggnogs.
Incidentally, I hated eggnog.
I brought my beer to my lips for another sip, reminding myself to go slow. To try to enjoy the annual holiday party. It was the most wonderful time of the year. According to Andy Williams crooning through the hidden speakers.
Every year, Novak & Novak rented out a restaurant in Philadelphia, the place where it all began and center point for the different offices, for everyone to get together. Which, I guess, was nice. It gave me an opportunity to talk to Barbara Novak, if I could only get her alone. She was the matriarch of the law firm, who was still standing, even at eighty-five years old. While she didn’t work anymore, she still had a hand in the business because she was sharp as a tack. And she was, after all, one half of the original Novak & Novak.
The story went, Barbara and William met in law school and were archenemies, but later fell in love and married. Once they passed the bar, Barbara had a hard time finding a firm willing to take on a young, female lawyer, so she and her husband opened their own, slowly but surely building a reputation in employment law matters. Though Novak & Novak now focused on multiple issues—including workers’ compensation claims, contract severances and disputes, and noncompete agreement litigation—Barbara’s goal had always been to fight for women’s rights in the workplace. She earned her status as a pit bull with a trial in the 1980s, by representing a woman who had been fired unjustly when she’d gotten pregnant. It was a huge win for her client and half the population of the United States. After that, Novak & Novak expanded offices outside of the original location in Philly to West Chester, Pennsylvania, Wilmington, Delaware, and Cherry Hill, New Jersey.
While there were multiple offices, the firm at large ran like a tight-knit family. That had always been Barbara and William’s policy. Family first, business second. Which was why I was here. Pretending I enjoyed these glad tidings.
“What’s up, Charlie Brown?” Seth bumped my shoulder. “You look like someone pissed on your Christmas tree.” He grinned, like the douchebag he was.
Seth had been hired full time at Novak & Novak after interning a few years and passing the bar. So far, he had managed to be more of a pain in the ass than a helpful junior associate. Although, I did take a lot of his money at our monthly poker nights. So, there was that.
“Trying to gauge how much longer I have to stay here,” I said into my beer.
Seth checked his watch. “It’s not even eight yet.” When I stayed quiet, he gestured to the bar with his drink. “I’m getting another one. Want?”
I shook my head, still nursing my beer.
“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he said, and I turned away so he didn’t see me roll my eyes. I tolerated Seth because there weren’t many other people in the office to be friends with.
Novak & Novak was a midsized firm, and each branch was run by a partner, with a handful of associates under them. It was both easy and incredibly difficult to work there. Easy because it was so small, a person could move up the ladder quickly, but difficult because they had to prove themselves to be an expert in the field of employment law. I’d been at Novak & Novak since I’d first interned there, and while I was only twenty-nine, I had my sights set on one day being a managing partner.
So, when I noticed Barbara alone for what seemed like the first time all night, I beelined toward her.
Only to spot Shauna headed my way. Shauna, the paralegal from the Philly office, whom I’d hooked up with last year after the Christmas party. Shauna, whom I’d never called back.
“Fuck me,” I grumbled, pivoting a tight left out of Shauna’s line of vision and away from Barbara.
A familiar low rumble, as if Satan’s pet cat had laughed, sounded next to me. “Whatever happened to ‘Hello, how was your day?’”
My grip on my beer tensed as I turned to face the bane of my existence, Taylor Novak. With a single eyebrow raised and her thin lips pulled into a taut line of what I assumed was supposed to be a semblance of a smirk, she pinned me with her dark eyes. Even highlighted as she was by all the glittery decorations behind her, I thought her especially proficient in still being able to appear so dark, as if she’d just stepped foot onto our level of earth from her sulfur and charcoal home.
I tipped my head, cupping my hand around my ear. “What is that I hear? The organs of hell calling you home?”
She stirred the toothpick with two olives along the rim of her martini glass. “No, that’s the sound of your backbone cracking under the weight of all your insecurities.”
I blew out an annoyed puff of air. “I know you’re obsessed with me, but the projection is a little too much, don’t you think?”
“Meobsessed withyou?” Her gaze raked over me from head to toe. “Now who’s the one projecting?”
I allowed myself a long look over her too. As usual, she was in all black. Like her soul. Her short dark-brown hair was pin straight, cut in a blunt line at her chin like someone hacked it with a sword. Maybe so they didn’t have to get close to her.
Painful goose bumps raced up my arms, standing this close to her. As if my body innately knew a deadly predator was on the loose. But I didn’t let it show when I met her gaze. That was the key. Establish dominance by looking her in the eye. Never be the first to blink away.
“I see you’re full of Christmas cheer,” I said, taking a slow sip of my beer.
Her long eyelashes fluttered like she wanted to blink, but her competitiveness would never allow it, and the whites of her eyes grew a bit bigger. “Well, I didn’t want to outshine you. I know how you crave being the center of attention.”
For almost the last two years of my life, this was what it’d been. Verbal sparring in an attempt to make the other one flinch first. Curt emails exchanged—or rather, she sent them, and I ignored them—about our work. Hers always dripping with condescension. As if her last name on the signage made her my boss. It didn’t. It was hours of trying and failing to avoid each other, which was impossible since our office wasn’t very big. There was no way I could escape the click of her high heels that put her at the same height as me. She loved that. The ability to stare directly into my eyes. Oftentimes, her gaze rose to my head as she rolled her shoulders back, as if being taller than me would make her better at her job.
But I came in at a respectable 5’11” and a half.A half.While herheels had to be at least three inches, she wasn’t even close to my height without shoes on.
