I heard the gossip almost the moment I stepped off the elevator. They were talking about Violet, saying things that made my skin crawl. They said she’d never shown up to work yesterday because she’d gone crazy after a cop pulled her over on the way, attacking him in the street and then running off, peeling her clothes away from her body as she did. They were saying her family had asked the police to locate her and deliver her to a mental hospital. They were saying it was a nervous breakdown brought on by too much success too soon.

And there was a rumor that this had happened when she was in law school, too.

I wanted to set everyone straight, but the moment I heard that the rumors included a cop, I knew it came from West’s office. And I knew that anything I had to say about it would only alert West that I was still involved. After this morning, I really wasn’t interested in another traffic stop. Or the possibility that he might escalate things, perhaps start spreading similar rumors about me.

It was ridiculous how fast someone’s reputation could be ruined with just a little rumor.

I kept my head down and concentrated on my work, reviewing the things Violet and I had done on the Winston case the day before. I wasn’t quite sure if I should submit the paperwork to the court, and Violet wasn’t exactly reachable at the moment. I was about to call up to her office to ask her secretary, when my phone rang.

“Ms. Stone? This is Alicia from Mr. Grant’s office. He’d like you to come upstairs for a few minutes.”

“Mr. Grant wants to see me?”

“Yes. Can you please come right away?”

I’d never met Mr. Grant. I’d seen him from a distance at a few office parties, but that was about it. He was the founder of the firm, a brilliant lawyer who’d lived out his heyday some twenty years ago. He didn’t take cases anymore, preferring to keep his days free to golf—or whatever his hobbies were—but he was still involved in the day-to-day activities of the firm, deeply invested in making sure he left behind a respected legacy.

I had no idea why he would want to see me.

I stood and smoothed a hand over my skirt, wishing I’d taken the time to find my brown one. It was much more dignified than this one. More business-like.

I left my cubicle, feeling as though every eye in the place was on me. I was almost relieved when the elevator doors closed on me. I closed my eyes, trying to remain calm as the elevator ascended to the tenth floor. My heart was in my throat when the doors opened again. The tenth floor was a whole different world from the seventh, the décor darker, classier. It reminded me a little of the sophistication that had reigned supreme in the antique store my parents ran. It all seemed to ooze money.

“Ms. Stone?” a woman standing to the side of the elevator asked.

I nodded, unable to speak.

“If you’ll come this way.”

I followed her down a long hallway, feeling decidedly frumpy compared to her slinky silk dress. She looked more like a woman going to a cocktail party than a secretary.

She stopped at a set of double doors, dramatically opening them both at the same time. Then she stepped to the side.

“He’s expecting you.”

I hesitated just an instant before going inside. He was sitting at his desk, but he immediately stood and came around when he saw me. The doors closed behind me, the definitive sound of the latch locking into place making me jump. He smiled politely, but the smile never touched his eyes.

“Ms. Stone, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you face to face.”

My eyebrows rose. Did he know me? Know my work? Or was he just being polite?

He shook my hand, then gestured for me to take a seat. I did, feeling a touch of déjà vu as memories of this morning in Brent’s office danced through my head. He sat beside me, twisting his fingers around each other in his lap as he regarded me.

“I understand you were with Violet Mitchell when she left the building yesterday.”

Was that what this was all about?

“She wasn’t feeling well. I took her home.”

“But that’s not completely true. You didn’t take her home.”

I frowned, wondering how he knew that. “I took her somewhere safe.”

“Why?”

“She was upset. She didn’t want to go home.”

“Where is she now?”

I looked down at my own hands locked in my lap. I was beginning to get a feeling that this man was not interested in helping Violet. And I wasn’t about to give him any information that would aid her enemies.

“Ms. Stone, I don’t know if you understand what’s at stake here. Violet was in charge of some very sensitive cases. If she does anything to damage those cases, it would reflect badly on this firm and everyone who works here. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Then will you tell me where she is?”

“She won’t be involved in work today. Probably not tomorrow, either.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

I looked him in the eye. “She’s somewhere safe. And the rumors that she’s lost her mind are just that. Rumors.”

Mr. Grant sat up a little straighter, his eyes like steel as they studied me. “You’re a second year here, correct?”

“I am.”

“On the fast track to junior partner, I’ve been told.”

I wasn’t so frightened by this whole thing that I wasn’t thrilled to hear that. Even though making partner wasn’t my goal, it was still satisfying to know it was a possibility.

“Don’t mess it all up by protecting the wrong person, Ms. Stone.”

That’s when I heard the threat and the false praise.

“Ms. Mitchell is a good lawyer,” I told him as I stood. “She’s got herself mixed up in some pretty messed up stuff with this West fellow, but when she comes out the other end—which she will—she will be stronger than all of you put together. So I suggest you tell your friends that I’m not going to be bullied into giving you anything you can use against her.”

I started for the door, but he grabbed my wrist with his veiny hand, his grip stronger than his advanced age might have suggested.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can win against West.” He stood, towering over me, his rheumy eyes studying my face. “You’re young, intelligent, beautiful. But even your brothers can’t help you if you make those kinds of enemies. Think of your career, Ms. Stone.”

“Are you firing me?”

His eyebrows rose high on his wrinkled forehead. “Are you going to tell me where Ms. Mitchell is?”

“No.”

“Then consider you both out of a job.”

I inclined my head. “Can I just say that this legacy you’re trying to leave behind would have been better off if you’d backed the Stones instead of West. In the end, we always come out on top.”

I walked out, not bothering to stop by my cubicle to collect my things. I didn’t really have anything personal there. I just rode the elevator down to the lobby and walked out with my head held high despite the fact that I felt like I could vomit violently over everything bit of stone tile I was calmly walking across.

I’d worked nine years to get to where I was right now. In one sentence, I’d destroyed it all.

What the hell was I thinking?