“Good morning,” I reply stiffly the next day.

Again.

And again.

I’ve officially lost count. Coworkers and building tenants greet me on my way from the back entrance of my office building, through to the service elevators only used by maintenance staff, and in the hallways of our law firm on the way to my office. Every one of them has congratulated me or confirmed that they saw me on the news or social media. And I ignore any mention of the same, in favor of a simple acknowledgment that yes, it’s the morning, even if it hasn’t been that good for me.

The only thing that’s good today is I’ve been able to dodge all the media hounds and paparazzi so far.

I keep my head down when I stop in the break room to put my packed lunch in the fridge. No way am I going out for meals the rest of this week. Heading the long way to get to my desk, I pass by my mother’s corner office. It’s empty, but that doesn’t mean much. She can be anywhere on the three floors the firm occupies in this building. We haven’t spoken since the news broke, and the jury’s out on how she’ll react. I'm sure she’d have a visceral reaction knowing the firm’s visiting clients can potentially be subjected to harassment by the media circus outside.

Fuck.

My head may be on a spike before the day’s up.

In my haste to hide out in my cubbyhole all day, I turn the next bend and walk right into one of the middle-aged maintenance workers. He’s carrying a step ladder and toolbox.

“I’m so sorry!” My hands grip his upper arms for a second to stop both of us from falling. “My mistake.”

“It’s okay, Miss Worthington. I was just leaving your office. The sign’s up, but be careful with the desk drawer handles. I just refit the locks, and they stick a little. I’ll be back after lunch to figure out the problem.”

“Oh. Uh, can you back up a little? You must be confusing my desk for someone else’s. My desk doesn’t have drawers. It’s a tight space.”

“No, it’s for your new office.” He points a thumb behind him on the diagonal. “Over there.”

I look over his shoulder and see the brass nameplate on the door to an office that isn’t mine. It reads, ‘Vanessa Worthington, Associate.’

What?

“There must be some mistake.”

Balancing the step ladder on his shoulder, he pulls out a half-crumpled sheet of paper and holds it out at arm’s length to read it. “I did exactly what my work order says. Just talk to your manager or Anita in the Facilities department. Have a nice day, Ma’am.”

He heads off, and I stop in front of the newly installed sign.

A new office and a promotion?

This change must be an error, but I push open the door to take a look anyway. A girl can dream, right? Fuck, it’s so spacious. And oh my God it has windows to the outside.

“You weren’t supposed to see this yet.”

I whip around and see Mom’s executive assistant walking down the hallway. “Morning, Sharon. It’s not a mistake?”

“Diane want’s you. She’s in her office.” She gives me a wink. “You may as well leave your things here. She has to be at another meeting in half an hour, so go in and see her now.”

“Oh. All right.”

Dropping my file bag on the nearest guest chair, and my purse and coffee on the desk, I go back to Mom’s office. She looks up at me and waves me in from her seat on the sofa, already on a phone call that came in on her smartphone.

“Sit,” she instructs me after wrapping up the calls. It can’t be good.

“I'm sorry for this, Diane. I had nothing to do with all this media attention outside.”

“It’s fine. Those vultures are pretty much always out there. It just happens to be for you this time.”

“Thanks. I hope they lose interest soon.”

“Doubtful, but sure, keep hoping.”

“Have they tried to contact Dad?”

“Not yet.” Her tone is cold and clipped. I should have known she’d get prickly about anything I ask about my father. “Sharon tells me you saw the office?”

“Yes.”

“The promotion letter from HR was supposed to be on my desk last night. Otherwise, I would’ve told you before.”

“Okay... May I ask why you made an exception and promoted me? Normally Junior Associates have to wait at least a year before they’re considered.”

“Don’t quote the policy to me, Vanessa. Run with it.”

“I didn’t mean to come off as rude, Mom.”

“Then don’t.”

“But I was just asking because—”

“If you must know, I made you Associate and assigned you a new space for two reasons. First, we can’t have anyone from the media sneak their way up to this floor and find you in that little office. That wouldn’t play out very well. Second, you earned the title of Associate when you brought in your first new client.”

“Sorry what?”

“Liam. He signed us on as his general counsel. His intellectual property billables will generate at least a quarter of a million per month, if his business incubator maintains their level of development.”

“Liam signed with our firm? When did this happen?” He didn’t tell me a thing yesterday. Bastard.

“Last Friday. You should spend more time talking to your boyfriend. He told me you’re the reason he changed firms. Not that I’d call it switching. His company was using some one-off legal service I’ve never heard of. It left them exposed, if you ask me. Didn’t sound like he was happy with them. But the point is, he’s coming on board because of you. As I said, you earned it.” She tilts the phone in her hand to check the screen. “Anything else? I’ve got to make it across town in less than twenty-five minutes.”

It kind of stings that she’s only changing my office for the optics, but if she insists that I got my promotion purely on merit, I’m wasting my breath to say another word.

Getting to my feet, I back away slowly. “No. Thanks, Diane.”

She heads over to the coat rack in the corner of her office and grabs her purse as she gets ready to leave. “Sharon will find one of the receptionists to help with your move. Oh, a couple of things. We need to schedule another meeting with O’Sullivan Entertainment. Three weeks should be enough. I’ll get her to organize that too.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“And give your brother a call, so he has a heads-up. They may show up at his doorstep before the worst is over.”

“True. Will do.”