“You going to this?”

I started and turned back to look at Brady, blinking quickly at the question.

“What?”

He pointed at the bulletin board and I focused my eyes on the paper dangling before me.

I hadn’t been paying attention, honestly and I couldn’t say for certain how long I had been standing in the breakroom with a coffee in my hand, but it was no longer warm to the touch.

“I wish it was in the Keys again this year,” Brady continued, and I finally reconciled that I was staring at a flyer for the annual retreat weekend.

“Yeah, the Keys would be nice,” I sighed. “I don’t know if I’m going.”

“Well, May is ways away,” Brady commented. “But you know the spots fill up pretty quick.”

“Even at a dude ranch?” I replied skeptically. “I’ll take my chances.”

Brady laughed and left me alone with my thoughts.

I watched him walk away and returned to what I had been considering as my coffee frosted in my hand.

She’s not going to like this but unfortunately, that is the way the game is played.

As if she felt me calling out to her, Yvette entered the break room.

“Oh,” she said, seeming surprised to see me standing there. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I replied quickly, taking a sip of my beverage.

I immediately wished I had not.

The bitter, cold liquid made me gag slightly.

Cautiously, as if she was afraid of scaring me off, she walked up to stand at my side.

I could not help but admire her svelte figure in a blue pencil skirt and white tailored blouse.

She was a classic beauty, stylish but subtle and she grew more beautiful with age.

“You going on the retreat?” she asked, and I found myself nodding.

“Thinking about it. You?”

She turned her eyes to me and I felt a familiar flutter in my heart as I looked at her.

“I already booked my spot.”

I nodded, swallowing my bizarre nervousness.

Why are you so apprehensive? This is business. It’s only business.

Her slight discomfort around me was apparent and I didn’t want to do anything to shake the fragile ease we seemed to share but it had to be said.

“Listen,” I started. “Angeline has an offer for Ryerson. When is a good time to get together?”

As if I had shocked her with a cattle prod, Yvette’s shoulders lifted tensely but she did not display her emotions on her face.

She thought we were being civil to one another for the first time in weeks and I ruined it by talking business.

“Why don’t you email me the details,” she said crisply, spinning on her heel toward the coffee machine. “And I’ll discuss them with my client.”

I winced at her tone, but I reminded myself that I didn’t need to walk on eggshells with Yvette.

Just because we have a history does not mean we can’t remain professional. If she was any other lawyer, we would still be joking around but she’s making this ugly for no reason.

But I knew our history made all the difference.

We had never discussed what had happened in New York, not with any great sincerity.

Both of us had more or less swept it under the rug as we so often did and pretended nothing happened.

This case had brought out something in us, something we weren’t prepared to face.

The realization that Angeline shared many similarities with Yvette had dredged up a lot of unsolicited reflection.

Angeline was hard and unflinching, just as Yvette appeared to be, with the brain to match my former lover’s.

Sometimes when I spoke with Angeline, I could see a glimmer of a hurt child beneath the surface, just as I would see her in Yvette.

But just like with Yvette, Angeline would block out any attempts I made to reach beyond her cool façade and talk to the wounded little girl inside.

“I’ll send it as soon as I get back to my desk,” I agreed, moving to join her at the coffee machine but as I neared her, she stepped away.

“Before you send off something ridiculous,” Yve called from the doorway. “Let me remind you that Mr. Sterling is a very busy man who doesn’t have time for trivial meetings. If your client wants to drag out this dog and pony show, that’s fine but know that Mr. Sterling will be billing her for wasted hours.”

I gaped at her, a laugh escaping my lips at the ridiculousness of the statement.

“He can’t do that!” I giggled. “It’s part of the proceedings. He doesn’t get paid for attending his own divorce mediations.”

“Oh no?” she replied, and I bristled at her tone.

“No!” I snapped. “Of course not!”

She leered at me.

“Tell that to Caitlyn Crawley, Roger Millstrom, and Eric Shumacker.”

I stared at her blankly.

“Who?” I demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“Those are divorced men and women who have paid handsomely for wasting my clients’ time. They, along with others who I can’t name off the top of my head, have all been billed for punitive damages and lost wages associated with wasting the courts and our time. Inform Mrs. Sterling that it is in her best interest to make this go away quickly and quietly.”

Yvette retreated from the breakroom and I felt myself grow warm with anger.

She can’t be serious, I fumed, pouring another cup of acrid, old coffee from the pot. I have to look into that!

But something told me that she wasn’t lying.

Yvette is many things, but a liar is not one of them. If she says she collected on such a stupid idea, she likely did.

The knowledge made me furious.

Yvette was not going to pull any punches. It only made me more determined to win the case for Angeline.

I hurried back to my office and set my cup down on the desk.

There was no way that Ryerson Sterling was going to agree to the number we had developed.

I had tried to reason with Angeline but there was no point.

She was, if possible, more stubborn than Yvette.

If I went to her with the message which Yvette had just given me, there was no doubt that all hell would break loose but if I presented Yvette with the offer, I would be dealing with an entire other earful.

I had an obligation to tell Angeline that she was going to be penalized for drawing out the process, but I wasn’t sure I had the energy for it that day.

I found myself cursing Vern Harrison every day for allowing this to happen.

The senior partner could have found a way out of it for everyone, but the firm only saw dollar signs.

When this is all over and done with, I am taking a vacation.

I sighed and turned to my email, sending the proposal to Yvette, interoffice.

Vern poked his head through my slightly ajar doorway.

“How’s it going?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes.

“You want the real answer or the PC one?”

“Sterling?” he asked, and I peered at him.

“Mostly,” I replied slowly. “What’s up?”

He remained in the doorway and I felt my ulcer moan as my subconscious sensed more trouble brewing.

“I just wanted to make a friendly suggestion,” Vern said slowly, and my eyes narrowed.

Beware the partner offering friendly suggestions as they are more likely direct orders.

“And that is?”

“Yvette is very good at her job. She has been here a few months longer than you, but she has a natural shark’s ability to smell blood in the water. I would bow down to her demands.”

“And I’m not as good because she had a few months on me? I should tell you that she and I are in the same graduating year,” I commented, trying to keep my tone neutral. “We went to NYU for our undergrad together. She graduated magna cum laude while I graduated summa cum laude.”

I loathed that my voice was raising an octave as I spoke.

“I am not disputing you are a great lawyer, Drave. I am saying that Yvette is colder than most. She will win at any cost. Bear that in mind when you go up against her.”

“And this has nothing to do with the firm siding with Ryerson in this divorce.”

Vern chuckled and shook his head.

“No matter which side wins, we still have plenty of plum accounts in our pockets. Ideally, of course, we would like to keep Mr. and Mrs. Sterling – “

“Voigt,” I corrected automatically. “Ms. Voigt.”

“Right, of course. But I think we both know that the way this is playing out, there is no way that both are going to walk away unscathed. I am just suggesting that you minimize the damage on your end.”

My jaw clenched, and I purposefully moved my eyes back to my computer screen.

Not only do my client and my opposing counsel think I’m second-rate, my boss does too.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, Drave,” Vern said. “It’s only advice.”

“Hey!” I called out as he turned away.

“Yes?”

“What if I end up on the winning end of this?”

Vern chuckled.

“Well that would be quite a feat,” he replied, pivoting to leave again but I stopped him.

“If I win this, I want to make senior partner. You’ll have to put my name in the ring.”

Vern lost his smile.

“That’s a little premature, isn’t it?”

“Why?” I demanded. “If Angeline Sterling is a loser and I can’t win against Yvette, what’s the harm in agreeing to it?”

I watched as a flicker of uncertainty crossed over his droopy face.

Maybe you don’t think I’m that incompetent after all, I thought but as the words whirled through me, Vern nodded amiably, his beam returning.

“It’s a deal,” he said, striding across the room to shake my hand. “If you can break Ryerson Sterling and get Yvette to reach a settlement of your client’s, I will talk to Kilpatrick and Campbell about making you, senior partner.”

I accepted his outstretched palm and pumped it with much more confidence than I felt.

“I look forward to being your equal,” I told him, and he hooted with laughter.

He doesn’t think I can do it, I thought, a mild fury coursing through me. He’s chortling behind those glasses, I can see it in his eyes.

But I was going to have the last laugh.

Angeline and Yvette were going down.

I just had to figure out how to do it.