CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Cole
I enter the recently expanded offices of Summer & Brooks, the official new name of the firm. The receptionist, Julia, a thirty-something blonde with a pixie cut is on the phone, but glances up from behind her mahogany desk and gives me a big smile. By the time that I’ve crossed through the seating area lined with high back chairs and stepped in front of her, Reese has sniffed me out.
“Finally, he arrives,” he bellows, offering me his hand, which I accept. “And so, it begins,” he says.
“And so, it begins,” I say. “We’re really doing this.”
“We already did it,” he says, motioning to the wall behind Julia and the imprinted logo that reads “Summer & Brooks, Attorneys at Law.”
“It should have been Brooks & Summer,” I say, “alphabetical and all.”
“I was in New York first,” he says. “And this is the new corporate office.”
“In other words, the wall in Houston should say Brooks & Summer, since I was there first.”
“Whoever gets the first win under the new company,” he says, “gets the first name spot.”
“The first million into the firm,” I counter.
“I can live with that,” Reese concedes, “but nothing that was on the books before today counts.”
“Keep the name,” I say. “But the bet’s on. Loser buys the winner a ridiculously expensive bottle of scotch. I’ll pick the bottle when I win.”
Reese laughs. “I can live with that.” He motions me forward. “I’ll see you to your new office.”
“Because it’s right next to your office,” I joke.
“Too damn close,” he replies. “I tried to change that, by the way,” he says. We start walking down a long hallway just past the reception area. “The construction team couldn’t make it happen,” he says. “Not without putting you in a closet and that would have looked bad to clients.” His phone buzzes with a text and he glances at it, a shift to business slipping into place. “We have that scholarship placement starting today,” he informs me. “She just made it to HR.”
“Right,” I say. “The one from Stanford that you know personally.”
“That’s her,” he says. “I setup the staff that will be working in your core team in the conference room at nine. The partner meeting is at ten. I want to give you a heads up on a couple of things in advance.”
We enter the double glass doors that are the entrance to the newly built executive offices with Reese’s corner office on the right and mine on the left. I wave to his secretary, Maria, who is Hispanic, forty-ish, and always brimming with attitude; she greets me in with a wave and a smile.
Reese and I head toward my office, and despite the wide berth between our doors that allows cubicles and offices between us, Maria murmurs something muffled in Spanish that’s said a little too loudly. Something to the effect of Reese and I both being fine-ass men. I laugh right along with Reese, who softly says, “She doesn’t know I speak Spanish.”
“I want popcorn and a good seat when she finds out,” I say, entering my window-lined corner office, and considering I haven’t seen it since it was sheetrock and construction, I pause for a minute just to take it in. Décor compliments of Ashley, the sitting area is done in black leather to the right. A conference table to the left.
“You’re unfortunately going to have to make your team meeting a quick one,” Reese says, as I cross to sit behind my new, shiny mahogany executive desk that appears to have no drawers. “I have to be done with the partners meeting no later than noon because I need to be back in court at two, which is why I want to circle back to our new intern again.”
“She’s the one you said was Cat’s research assistant, right?”
“Yes, and that made getting her on our team, when everyone else wanted her, tricky. She’s prideful. She doesn’t want charity or to feel like she’s gotten a handout. Her first instinct was the reason I wanted to hire her as a favor.”
“Was it?” I ask.
“Hell no,” he says. “I’ve let her sit in on some of my team sessions and she’s good. Really damn good, which is why it pains me to say that I think, based on the personal relationship she has with myself, and even more so, my wife, she needs to be yours. But if you get her, you get what comes with her. That means you take on her educational program requirements.” He indicates a file on the desk. “That has the details of what you’re required to do. She’s worth it, man. She’s a future star.”
“What’s her name?”
“Lori Havens.”
I go still. I’m not sure I can breathe but the puzzle begins to come together. “And she works at your apartment with Cat?”
“Daily,” he says. “Why?”
“I might have met her.”
He narrows his eyes on me. “Is that a good or bad thing?”
“It’s more a matter of record.”
“Of record,” he says flatly. “That’s an interesting choice of words.”
I dismiss the comment with a wave of my hand. “I just ended a trial. I’m still in courtroom mode. I’ll read the file and meet with her.” I glance at my watch. “I’ll see you in the boardroom in fifteen minutes.”
Reese knocks on the desk. “In other words, get the hell out of your office.”
“Always liked how good you were at getting the point,” I say.
He studies me a moment and stands up. “See you in the conference room.”
I watch him cross the room and exit, shutting the door behind him. I scrub my jaw and I find myself momentarily resisting opening the file. It can’t be her. She’s too old to be an intern, but then I remember the story Reese told me about this particular intern. Her father died and her mother had a stroke right afterward. Top of her class at Stanford. Ivy League as I suggested that night. Fuck. This could be a problem. I open the file and find no photo. I start reading. She’s impressive on paper, and if she’s the Lori I know, she’s impressive in all kinds of ways.
I stand up and walk to the window, hands on my hips under my jacket. It’s her. I know it. I feel it. It has to be her. Her situation explains why I couldn’t find her. I never once considered looking beyond active attorneys. Beyond that night, I’d ruled out her knowing who I was. I didn’t feel that when I was with her, but maybe she did. Maybe that’s why she left. If she left then though, why would she be here in my offices now? My gut says, she wouldn’t.
If I’m right, then like me, she was in my inner circle, and that’s how our paths crossed, but she never heard my name. She didn’t know me. She doesn’t know I’m here now. This is going to get interesting. If of course, this really is my Lori. The woman whose pretty little ass I spanked. I’m damn sure ready to find out.
***
Lori
I wear my most professional blue pinstriped suit, and the only pair of expensive heels I have left in my closet. When I arrive at the office, and step into HR, I’m ready for this day and this challenge. I exit HR in time for a meeting I’m to attend with the new partner with the comfort of knowing that while we won’t be leaving the rat trap soon, by the time I finish school, my mother will be debt free and in a nice apartment. To achieve my dream and take care of my mother is everything. Excitement fills me as I grab my notepad and pen from the cubicle I will call home for the next year, and I head toward the conference room.
I near to find the table already lined with a good dozen people, none of whom I’ve met, as of yet. Reese is in the front of the room. “Welcome, Lori,” he greets, and motions me to the only remaining seat at the end of the right side of the table. “Everyone welcome Lori Havens,” he announces. “She’s here as a special program intern. She’s been granted a full scholarship by the Merrick Foundation with only nine months left to complete at Stanford.”
There are murmurs of congratulations, and obviously, a sense of that being an honor. It feels good. “Thank you everyone,” I say, claiming my seat.
“As you all know, my new co-managing partner officially made his new home here with us in New York City. His highly successful Texas-based operation united with our operations. Coming off a hell of a win in court back in Texas, please welcome Cole Brooks.”
Cole.
The name radiates through me and I can’t breathe. It can’t be him. It can’t be—He walks in the door, talk, dark and good-looking in a perfectly fitted, ridiculously expensive suit, and oh God, it’s him. It’s Cole. My new boss is the man I let spank me.
He’s my dirty little secret.
Cole and Reese shake hands. There is clapping. I sink back into my seat and scoot a bit behind the person sitting next to me who is thankfully a rather broad fit, large man.
“I’ll leave you all with Cole,” Reese says, giving Cole a nod and then heading for the door.
Cole turns his attention wholly on the room, and I slink back behind the profile of the giant man to my right, out of Cole’s line of sight. “Let me tell you about me,” he says. “I like to win; however, we do not take cases solely for financial gain. Don’t expect me to accept any case you bring to me based on the payday. And you know why? Every day when I look myself in the mirror, I want to like what I see—which is an undervalued quality in this profession. I, we, take cases that we defend passionately.” He gives us all a few moments to absorb his words, and then says, “I’ve reviewed your files, but I’d like to put names with faces. Please introduce yourself, and tell me your job title, as well as your best asset.”
Dread fills me with the realization that soon all eyes will be on me, his eyes will be on me, and he’ll know I’m here. I’ll have to tell him what I didn’t want to tell him that night: I’m not an attorney. I’m an intern. I’m now his subordinate, and he’s my boss, my boss who is free to fire me. Who will think I knew who he was that night, that this is some big scheme.
Thankfully, I am given a moment to breathe through this idea as he indicates the man closest to him, on the opposite side of the table, to begin. For now, I hyper-focus on the other speakers, willing myself to calm, learning about my new co-workers just as Cole is. I quickly surmise that this room is literally his support staff that includes a mix of administrative staff, interns, and a few junior-level attorneys, who I assume will second chair with Cole on cases.
Slowly, so very slowly, and yet too quickly, the introductions lead my direction until there is only the very large man in the seat next to me, who until this point has been a shield that kept me hidden. “Michael Nortan,” he states, while I remain blocked by his big body. “Attorney, recent Yale graduate, joined the firm six months ago. And my biggest asset is I too like to win and win with integrity.”
And that’s it. It’s now my turn to declare myself. I inhale and lean forward on the exhale, and I say, “Lori Havens.” My eyes meet Cole’s. His meet mine, and there is a punch of electricity between us that I pray no one else feels. I dread what comes next, the admission I avoided in that hotel room. “Merrick Foundation recipient,” I say, and then, “Intern.” I pause a moment on my best asset, and then I decide I’m here, I’m me, and I can’t be anything else, and that means I don’t take the safe route. “I know how to size people up with incredible accuracy.” In other words, I sized him up. “I never quit,” I add, “and I know how to set priorities and limits with great discipline. For myself and those around me.” The message in those additional comments: I’m not leaving unless he fires me. I can’t. I won’t. But I also won’t be bending over his lap again.
He doesn’t immediately speak. He just looks at me, his eyes an unreadable ice blue, seconds tick by before he cuts his stare, and speaks to the masses. “That’s all for today. I’ll be in touch with each of you individually over the next two weeks. Lori. Come with me.”