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“What does your fiancé do, if I may ask?”
That had been the topic of a lot of debate. They’d needed a respectable job for him, but one that was strictly local and also wouldn’t ever link him to Whitman. “He’s an air traffic controller at Logan, ma’am.”
She whistled between her teeth. “That’s a high-stress job.”
“Yes, ma’am. I couldn’t do it, but he loves it. He’s the calmest person you’ll ever meet. Everything could be falling apart around him, and he’d be the only one giving orders and not panicking.”
“I suppose that’s a requirement for a job like that. I can’t imagine having to do that at a big airport like Logan.”
“He loves it, which is why I had to move here. He’s so good at what he does that I didn’t want to make him move.”
“That makes sense, but why did you decide to apply here? No offense, but with your résumé, you could do better.”
They’d expected this question too. The fact that, so far, he’d been prepared for everything she’d thrown at him gave Caleb confidence. “In all honesty, ma’am, I don’t expect to stay for more than two years. But right now, transitioning back into civilian life will require time and energy, plus my fiancé and I have a wedding to plan. I specifically applied for a job that wouldn’t expect crazy hours and wouldn’t come with absurd amounts of stress.”
She smiled, her gaze dissecting him like he was a puzzle she was determined to solve. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“I’d understand if that doesn’t work for you, but I wanted to set expectations from the start, ma’am.”
“Which I respect. This job does come with challenges, but mostly in terms of what’s still lacking and what you’d have to develop. We have the required basic cybersecurity, but I want to level up. We have important clients, for whom attorney-client privilege is sacred, and we can’t afford to be hacked and for the wrong people to get access to our systems.”
“Understood, ma’am. I’m confident I can raise your cybersecurity to Pentagon levels. That’s not me bragging. That’s me giving you a guarantee.”
Relief filled her face. “I like your confidence.”
“This isn’t a job where good enough cuts it. You either have to do it well or not do it at all.”
“I could’ve said that myself. You’ll find we aspire to high standards here.”
“As do I, ma’am.”
She chuckled, looking years younger all of a sudden and much more like the relaxed woman in the pic with her sisters than the ice-cold lawyer. “Do you think there’s a chance you could stop calling me ma’am?”
Caleb grimaced. “I doubt it, ma’am. Not anytime soon anyway, but I can try if you’d like me to. It’s become a habit. One that’s hard to break.”
She waved her hand. “In the bigger scheme of things, I can get over that minor infraction. When would you be able to start?”
“Immediately.”
“We’d set up a trial period of, say, a month. Maybe two.”
“Understood, ma’am. I also assume I’d only get partial access to your system during that time, which is only prudent.”
Her eyes widened ever so slightly before she caught herself. “Of course. Our information is sensitive. Client confidentiality is paramount.”
Caleb nodded. “I don’t walk into places expecting to have all the keys handed to me. Trust is earned. I plan to earn yours, ma’am.”
Isabella leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen on her desk. “I believe you’re exactly what we’re looking for. The position is yours if you want it.”
Caleb’s breath hitched and disbelief warred with triumph. This was it, the infiltration point, a crack in the armor of Coldrick Law. He’d done it. Yet the weight of what lay ahead pressed on him as a reminder of the risks, of Roman’s worried frown.
“Fantastic,” he blurted out, then got himself under control again. “I appreciate you giving me a chance, ma’am. When would you like me to start?”
“Let’s say Monday. That will give you the weekend to prepare yourself. I’ll have HR set up a contract for you and email that to you.”
“Sounds perfect, ma’am.”
“Very well, Mr. Lawrence. Welcome aboard.” Isabella stood, extending her hand across the battlefield of her desk.
