I PULL ON my blazer and slip into my Kate Middleton shoes. At least that’s what I call them. Tan heels that are feminine, yet conservative. That’s the look I’m going for this morning. Feminine, yet conservative. I start my internship at my uncle’s law firm today, and I want to dress the part impeccably. I smooth down my long, blonde hair and check my makeup in the mirror one last time. I kept it light, a little mascara and some blush, with some dark pink lip gloss.
I walk out into the living room to find Ryan sitting on the couch with his legs crossed and his computer on his lap. I lean over the arm of the sofa and see the dozens of logos he’s created as specs for my uncle.
“I like that one.” I point to a circle with the names of all four partners written in black with the first letter done in a larger, fancier font and colored a deep red. “It looks really professional and not too conservative.”
“Thanks.” He gazes up at me. His eyes are tired but his expression is happy. “You look nice.”
I run my hands over my outfit. I’m wearing a white button-up shirt tucked into a charcoal pencil skirt. “You think?”
“I know.”
I take a deep, cleansing breath.
“You seem nervous,” Ryan observes.
“I am.”
“It’s your uncle’s law firm, they’ll treat you right.”
“That’s just it, I didn’t do anything to deserve this internship except share the same name with a founding partner. I’ll need to work extra hard to prove myself.”
“And you will,” Ryan assures me as he reaches up and grabs my hand.
“I’m glad you have so much confidence in me.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You have brains, beauty, and street smarts. You’re a triple threat.” He smiles engagingly. “You’re going to make a kick-ass lawyer.”
“I hope so.” I’m so unsure. “When are you supposed to show your ideas to the firm?”
“Wednesday.” He blows out a tense breath. It seems we both have job-related issues to be anxious about.
I kiss Ryan goodbye, leaving him to his project, walk outside, and hail a cab.
I take the elevator to the twenty-third floor of the Chrysler building where I step out into an opulent reception area with dark wood floors and a long, sleek desk. There’s a large, tan granite wall behind the desk with all four partners’ names written in big block letters: Remington, Anderson, Smith, and Steele. It’s very impressive and commanding. Just like my uncle’s firm.
Smoothing the wrinkles on my shirt, I approach an attractive young girl with strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and big green eyes.
“Who are you here to see?” she asks with a smile.
“John Remington,” I announce and her smile gets bigger.
“You must be Alana.”
“Yes, I am.” I smile back tightly.
“Right this way.” She walks out from behind the desk and escorts me through the huge, double glass doors. As we walk through the main hallway of the law firm, I catch glimpses of different things through the glass walls—lawyers in meetings, on the phone, or engrossed in their computer screen.
“I’m Reyna,” she introduces herself as we walk.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I respond cordially. “How long have you worked here?”
“Just a few months.” She’s cheerful. “I just moved here from Texas, got lucky, and landed this job right away.”
“You don’t sound like you’re from Texas.”
“No, I’m not. I’m from California, originally. Sierra Nevada area, I move around a lot.”
“What brought you to New York?”
“Jay-Z.” She laughs.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s true.” She laughs harder. “No one believes me when I tell them that. I heard “Empire State of Mind” and I just had to come experience the city for myself.”
“Does it live up to the hype?”
She nods her head enthusiastically.
I think Reyna and I are going to get along just fine.
Reyna leads me into a little room with no windows, a desk, and a chair. She hands me a clipboard with a stack of papers and a pen. “Fill this out and I’ll let Mr. Remington know you’re here.”
“Okay, thank you.” I sit down at the desk.
“Alana, I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”
I nod thankfully as she shuts the door.
A little while later, after I’ve finished the paperwork, Reyna comes back to let me know my uncle is ready to see me.
I follow her out of the room and down the long hallway that seems to be the main hub of the firm. We walk through two more double doors where several huge offices are situated. This is definitely where the big guns work. She motions to an entrance on the right, and I see my uncle through the glass. He’s sitting at a huge, cherrywood desk with a view of Manhattan behind him that punches you right in the face. I walk in, and when he looks up, a wide smile lights up his face.
“Alana.” He stands and comes around the desk to hug me. “I’m so excited you’re here.”
“Me, too.” Even though I’m nervous as hell. I don’t know why. This is my uncle, I shouldn’t be nervous, but the grandeur of his firm feels like it’s crushing me.
“Reyna showed you around?”
“Yes, a little, she’s very nice.”
“She is,” he agrees as he walks back behind his desk, and I can’t help but follow him. I want to get closer to the window and take in the magnificent view. I lean against the edge of his desk, cross my arms and get lost in the landscape.
“Phenomenal, isn’t it?” My uncle swivels in his chair next to me, mirroring my arms.
“Totally.” I’m transfixed.
We’re quiet for a moment before he goes on, “So, Ryan. He’s an interesting boy.”
I immediately snap to attention. “Yes, he is.” I search my uncle’s face for any kind of hint of what he’s thinking. I’ll give it to the Remington men, they can conceal their thoughts and emotions like none other.
“I don’t think he’s slept since you asked him to present the logo ideas.”
“Driven, that’s good.”
“He wants to impress you.” I smirk. “Hell, I want to impress you.”
My uncle regards me surprised. “Alana, you do impress me. You’re a strong, intelligent, young woman who is at the top of her class at a prestigious law school.”
“There are plenty of young, intelligent women who are at the top of their class at prestigious law schools,” I counter diffidently.
“So, what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, except competition.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me.
“Okay then, you know what really impresses me?”
“What?” I draw my brown eyes down to his.
“You stand by a man whose occupation has women throwing themselves at him on a nightly basis. I don’t know many young girls who would be able to do that. I don’t know many grown women who would be able to do that,” he grunts.
“Trust me, it’s not easy,” I scoff.
“I’m sure it’s not. And that’s exactly my point. You endure. You do it with your father and with your boyfriend. And that ability will give you the edge you need in the competition department.” He nods self-assured. “It’s not going to hurt that you have my law firm on your resume either.” My uncle winks.
Oh, my uncle John, the voice of encouragement.
“Now, if you’re ready,” he joshes, turning back to his desk, “there’s work to be done.”
My smile broadens. I’m totally ready.
“Did you buy a whole new wardrobe?” The bed is covered with men’s clothes all with the tags still on them.
Ryan comes out of the bathroom towel-drying his hair. “I couldn’t decide what to wear so I bought a selection.”
“You bought Michael Kors’ spring line.”
He laughs flippantly before going back into the bathroom. “Pick something out for me,” he yells, the scent of his body spray drifting into the bedroom. It’s yummy.
I sift through the clothes, searching for the perfect match. Ryan is meeting with my uncle and the other partners today to review his mock-ups. If they like anything they see, Ryan will have the task of creating the law firm’s official logo. It’s not only a huge undertaking, it’s a big break in his potential career.
I pick out a navy suit and match it with a light blue, pin-striped tie that will bring out his eyes, along with a white dress shirt. Crisp, youthful, and professional.
Ryan smiles when he discovers my selection. “I was leaning toward that suit.”
“Great minds,” I hum.
As we finish getting dressed, anxiety emits off Ryan like radiation. I can’t say I blame him for being nervous, he’s about to meet four gods on Mount Olympus.
Together, we hop a cab to the Chrysler Building, grab some coffee from a vendor truck parked on the street, then ride the elevator up to the twenty-second floor. As we step out into the reception area we run into my uncle. He’s walking purposefully with papers in his hand. His white shirtsleeves are rolled up to his elbows and a gold chain hangs from the pocket of his black vest. He smiles when he sees us.
“Well, don’t you two look like a power couple?” He shakes hands with Ryan. “All ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Have a seat and one of the receptionists will see you inside.” My uncle disappears through the double doors of the firm. Ryan exhales an uneasy breath and takes a seat on one of the leather chairs in the waiting room.
“Do you want me to stay with you until you’re called in?” I want to be supportive.
Ryan smiles, a huge dazzling smile. “No, that’s okay. I need to do this on my own.”
I nod, leaning down to kiss him. “Good luck,” I whisper against his mouth.
As I pass by the reception desk, Reyna pssts me.
“Hey.” She follows me through the glass doors. “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks conspiratorially.
“Um, yes. That’s Ryan.” I glance back at my hottie sitting in reception.
“His name’s not Jack?”
All the air leaves my body as soon as the name Jack leaves her lips. “Why would you ask that?”
“Sheila is swearing up and down he’s the guy who strips at Culture. She was just there last weekend.”
I chew on my bottom lip. Jesus, does every woman under the age of twenty-five know who Ryan is?
“No, maybe he just looks like him?” I hide Superman’s secret identity. “He’s definitely hot enough to be a male stripper, though.” I play it off as I hurry to my desk.
“Hell, yeah, he is.” Reyna mutters under her breath, and I smile a little.
Forty-five minutes later I steal a peek of Ryan and the founding partners in a conference room. He has his laptop open with one of his mock-ups projecting on a big screen. It’s the one I noticed the other day, the circle of names. My uncle looks pleased, as do the others in the room. Ryan is conducting himself calm and collectively, the passion for his work speaking volumes through his facial features.
I hurry into my uncle’s office, not wanting anyone to catch me spying, and place a stack of papers on his desk. I photocopied at least a hundred briefs this morning, and have just finished delivering them to all the designated lawyers. I glance up when Ryan and my uncle walk through the door. They’re both smiling as they converse. And, for one split second, I wish it was my father instead of my uncle looking at Ryan that way.
“So, who’s ready for a celebratory lunch?” My uncle clasps his hands.
“You got the job?” I direct the question at Ryan.
Ryan rubs the back of his neck. “It appears so.”
Overcome with elation, I pounce on Ryan, hugging him as tightly as I can muster, because I know this job could potentially change his life.
And potentially get rid of Jack the Stripper.
“Mr. Remington.” A woman’s voice comes through the speaker on his desk. “There’s been a development in the Richmond case, they’re requesting you in conference room three.”
My uncle sighs. “No rest for the weary. Looks like you two are celebrating on your own. Have a good time.” He slaps Ryan on the shoulder before rushing out the door.
“So, what do you want to do to celebrate?” I take Ryan’s hand.
With a wicked expression on his face, Ryan glances at my uncle’s huge cherrywood desk. “I can think of one thing.”
I walked right into that one.
“Not going to happen.” The walls are see through.
“How ‘bout a quickie at my place, then?” He pulls me into his arms, and I brace my hands on his chest.
“You’re not hungry?”
“Oh, I’m hungry, baby,” he kisses my neck, “but you’re the only thing on the menu I want.”
Naughty.
“So, let’s go, then.” I pull him toward the door by his tie. “And I’ll let you taste the rainbow.”
“Jesus Christ, I love you, woman.” Ryan wraps his arms around me from behind and pokes me in the back with his growing erection. “It’s a good thing I’m wearing a suit jacket, huh?”
I laugh aloud. “You’re incorrigible.”
“I know, baby,” he groans. “Don’t ever ask me to change.”
“I wouldn’t, and I don’t think you could even if you tried.”
We walk hand in hand into the vestibule, where several receptionists are behind the desk, including Reyna and Sheila. Sheila is petite, with short black hair, a pear-shaped body, and a devious demeanor. They both watch us like a hawk as we walk by, and just as we make our way into the elevator someone yells, “Jack!” and Ryan instinctively turns his head.
Shit.
I circle around to see both Reyna and Sheila’s eyes sparkling. Those two connivers just unmasked Jack the Stripper.