“I’ll help on a patent case,” Carter interrupted. All eyes turned on him. He smiled and shrugged. “I’ve been on the other side of it many times so I’m able to test its temerity. I think, if nothing else, we can do some investigation. I’m happy to put in the hours and earn my place here.”
“Me too.” At Jennifer’s voice, Perdie almost jumped out of her chair. Jennifer nervously glanced at Carter. “I’ll help too. I’ve got extra time.”
Frank gawked at them for a moment but then waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, fine, if you want to invest your time. Go for it. Don’t let it interfere with your billing hours for the Fletcher Group.” He turned. “Now, Bill, what’s your timeline on your whistleblower...do you think we need to get the news involved?”
Perdie leaned back in her seat, eyes down as she pretended to write notes on a pad of paper.
It wasn’t how she’d wanted her pitch to go down, it wasn’t fair, and it certainly wasn’t how she’d pictured bringing in her first client. But it was a start.
Chapter Eleven
Perdie spun a pen in her hand, feet propped up on her desk. She’d finished her work for the day. Long ago, the sun had set over the harbor outside the window.
After the meetings, time had flown. She was busy devising a plan to best streamline her prospective case with Noah while also keeping her billables high for her new assignment with the Fletcher Group. Carter’s big client. Ugh.
The fact that she couldn’t get interest in her case until she was supported by a man in the room was not lost on her. But that wouldn’t stop her from using opportunities when they arose. And that was the best she could tell herself for the moment.
She rolled her head on her neck and switched off her computer screen. Still she grabbed her tablet to check her email one last time before closing shop. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to continue answering emails late in the evening on the couch at home, Lucille clanging pots and pans in the background yelling at her to come eat dinner.
This firm wouldn’t be happy until they worked her to death.
Bring the Joy to Joy and Schulz
Annual Winter Holiday Party.
She clicked the evite, revealing a twinkling white animated card:
December 23 7pm
Enjoy drinks and heavy hors d’oeuvres
at the Atlantic Theater
Dress to Impress in Formal Attire,
Old Hollywood Glam
Great. A theme.
Perdie tapped off the screen, removed her glasses, and rubbed her eyes. Attorneys and staff were allowed plus-ones to the winter holiday party. Perdie was in the habit of bringing Lucille, sparking the rumor for years that the friends were lovers, much to Lucille’s delight.
But Lucille refused to attend anymore. Two years ago a senior partner in a different practice group had slapped her ass at a nearby bar. Perdie felt horrible about it, but they had little recourse. Needless to say, she wasn’t exactly excited about this year’s party.
Her ears perked at a soft knock on her door.
“Slumming it on the third floor, I see?” she asked Carter without moving. His image reflected in her tablet.
“Are you some kind of witch with a magic third eye?” he asked, stepping past the threshold.
“Think you know the answer to that.” She dropped her tablet before spinning her chair to the front of her L-shaped desk. And then she had to bite down hard against her cheek at the sight of Carter in her doorway. Would this effect ever wear off? Could she maybe not be in awe of his face and body and masculine presence for five fucking minutes? It was proving a major distraction. “Come on in.”
He strolled inside, closing the door behind him. Real subtle. A five o’clock shadow darkened the line of his jaw, and he was only in his button-down again, the top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up on his forearms. She could barely glimpse the precipice of ink crawling up his left arm.
When she involuntarily licked her lips, he smirked, scraping the chair in front of her desk and taking a seat.
He gestured at the large whiteboard hanging on the wall behind her, where she had mapped a communications plan for the patent case. “That appears very thorough. And colorful.” His mouth lifted in a half smile.
She shrugged. “It’s the only way my brain can organize information. I used to draw on the walls a lot as a kid. My mother said I lost her every deposit on every apartment we ever lived in, but at least I learned to write before kindergarten.”
Carter chuckled. “I’d guess you were a gifted child.”
“Gifted in talking too much in class. Gifted in teaching the other kids how to swear.”
“My mother would, on occasion, slip in my finger paintings at her gallery showings.”
Perdie bit back a smile. “Did anyone buy them?”
He nodded. “Let’s just say a Carter Leplan original is prominently featured in the living room of a very snobby Silicon Valley art collector.”
Perdie laughed, the moment lingering. The warm residue of their early-morning lust glowed like embers.
His voice cut the spell. “You like donuts?”
Perdie raised her brow. “Does my third eye keep a watch on my office door?”
“I’ll take that as a yes. There’s a twenty-four-hour donut place near my rental.”
She tilted her head. “Where are you renting?”
