I head to Boyd Ashdown’s office, not because I want to talk to him, but because I bet Grace will be there. Boyd is the newest partner at the law firm. They claim that it’s for quite a while—no more expanding. I’m glad, because I can barely keep up with all the paperwork each time there’s a merger. But I’m also dubious, because it seems to me that they can’t help but expand. It seems to be an addiction.

Just as Boyd is the newest partner around here, Grace is the newest employee to fall prey to an older, much richer partner. She and Boyd hit it off swimmingly and now she’s always ever so eager to “help him out” in the office— and the bedroom.

What is with these young women who would rather marry the partners than become one themselves? I think.

But as soon as I approach Boyd’s office and see Grace looking at me with her sweet smile as she removes headphones she was wearing, I instantly regret my judgmental thought. You’re starting to sound just like your mother except in reverse, I scold myself.

Sure, I may have devoted my life to my career at the expense of love but that doesn’t mean that every woman has or should. Perhaps some are smarter than me. Madilyn has a very good chance of making partner and all the women here who have fallen in love with men here are bright and hard working. Grace is one of the nicest of the bunch, and from what I’ve heard, she’s had a hard life as a former foster child.

“Monique!” she calls out, from the computer chair she’s sitting in, behind Boyd’s desk. He’s not here, which makes me glad. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh,” I tell her, shrugging innocently. “I just came to say hi. And to ask Boyd if he and the other partners need anything at their meeting tomorrow.”

It’s a ploy I decide to go for at the spur of the moment— an educated guess that if Asher is meeting with someone so important he can’t even record his or her name in the calendar, then he probably isn’t meeting with this person alone. I ask myself why Grace would know if Madilyn doesn’t— or at least, pretends not to. But she blurts out, “Hmmm, I don’t know, I think the standard coffee and tea would be fine. Isn’t that the job of the lowest person on the totem poll though?”

“Yes, but I direct that person,” I remind her, resisting the urge to add and everyone else here as well, which is why I really need to be kept informed of what’s going on, rather than left in the dark.

“Oh, yeah,” she says, smiling. “That makes sense. But I really don’t know.”

I’m trying to think of a roundabout way to ask if she knows what the meeting is about when she plunges forward, unasked. If there’s one thing I admire about Grace, it’s her headstrongness.

“I don’t really know who they’re meeting with or what the meeting is about, so I can’t really guess what they might want to eat or drink there,” she says, shrugging. “Sorry. Boyd only told me they’re meeting with a potential prospect or candidate or something.”

Wow, I think. He “only” told her that, and Asher won’t even put the name of the person he’s meeting with on our joint calendar. Pillow talk really does result in a lot of information being learned.

“A prospect?” I ask Grace. “Like, for employment?”

She shrugs again. “I guess so.”

I would be informed about any prospective employee. I’m in charge of all the employees. Unless…

My stomach sinks to the pit of my stomach. Unless they were looking to replace me.

I rack my brain, thinking of any incidents lately. Any reason they might have to get rid of me.

It’s a preposterous notion. I’m damn good at my job.

So, maybe they’re just bringing on a new office manager for me to supervise. We have a lot of new employees now thanks to all the recent mergers. But then they’d definitely tell me about it. Perhaps they think they need a co- office manager and don’t know how to break the news to me, because they think I would be upset. And, they would be right. I can handle this job just fine, no matter how many employees there are; I don’t need a co-manager.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Grace asks, putting her headphones back in place. “I’m translating Boyd’s dictation.”

Umm. “There’s software for that,” I inform her. “The firm has an expensive subscription.”

How does she not know this by now? Did Boyd train her at all, or does he just like to fu…

“I know,” she says, answering that question for me. “But he’s old fashioned and insists on doing it this way. And I don’t mind. I just like to listen to his voice.”

If she weren’t so damn adorable, I’d be upset that they’re wasting the firm’s resources in this manner. We bought expensive software to keep up with technology and she’s wasting man hours— or, woman hours— doing it the old fashioned way due to some antiquated notion of romance.

But, damn. That’s cute. How could I be mad at that?

“Okay, Well, thanks for the help,” I tell her, as I see myself out.

Even though it makes me worry that my job is in jeopardy, at least I found out some information. Who would have thought it would be from one of the firm’s newest employees, rather than from Madilyn?