Oh, fuck. He’ll be trying to take time off all the time for wife and baby issues. Why can’t I find a decent gay guy, so there will be no damned office romance issues? She went through the motions of the interview and stood. “Thank you for coming in. I have others to interview.”
He offered a weak smile. “Thank you for your time.”
Janet returned to her office and dug through her desk draws until she found a stash of cashews. She snacked from the can with one hand, and squeezed the back of her neck with the other to put a leash on the growing headache. I hate fucking interviews. A knock at the front door got her attention.
She opened it and a man smiled an obvious practiced professional smile. “Hello, I’m Solomon Thornton. I’m here for an interview for staff attorney.”
“Yes, come in.” She locked the door behind him. He offered a hand too fast for her to ignore. She hated shaking hands.
When she didn’t take his hand right away, he withdrew it but smiled again. “I understand. Many people at cold and flu season avoid shaking hands. It’s an antiquated act. I prefer the Asian style of bowing to each other.”
She laughed to herself while sensing something special about him, a robust, manly aura, but there was more than that. Of course, how logical. She should have thought of that. In silence, she led him to her office as she rubbed her neck. His attire of dark suit and white shirt with blue tie would have to go. She’d get him to dress more flamboyantly. “How did you hear of this position being open?”
“An ad in The Valley Voice.” He paused. “How do you like to be addressed?”
“Ms. Hardin.” Good, he must be gay if he’s reading that rag. “Just a moment, let me refresh my memory of your resume. I’ve already done two interviews tonight.”
“That’s fine. If you’ve decided to hire one of the others I understand, and since I believe in being practical and efficient, we don’t have to go through the hollow motions of an interview.”
She held up her hand for him to shut up. He did. She knitted her brow. “You’re an attorney with an exceptional background, but after being in the upper echelon of the profession, why apply to a small firm?”
“I got nosebleeds from pretending to be a legal robot. I want to be with people and do what we all went to law school for: to serve society.”
“How idealistic. Why’d you leave your last place? Did you get wind of the pending doom there and bail out?”
With no emotion on his face, he said, “Mutual agreement.”
Her mind whirled to sort pieces of information as she kneaded her neck, trying to ease her headache. She laughed. “I remember. You were the little fuck boy whistle blower. You bent over, literally, for ol’ Ray Donovan, you ratted him and the firm out when he wouldn’t pay you hush money.” She appraised him again. One would never think he’s gay from his appearance. He could be a college jock with hair long enough to tease his ears and those distinct facial features that could let him be a model. “You’re gay, right?”
“With all due respect, Ms. Hardin, asking my sexual identify along with age and religion are not acceptable employment questions, and you may delete the ‘fuck boy’ comments.” He seemed emotionless, as though he presented a fact in court. “Rumors are just that, and I’ve found it best for attorneys to function on facts. None of what you’ve said is true. I rejected his sexual advances, and his threats to destroy me when I refused to comply. I had been collecting information for all the firm’s improprieties. Mr. Donovan’s threats were the final straw that broke the lawyer’s back, so to say.”
She didn’t believe him and laughed again while staring him in the eyes. He held her gaze, but his expression was mature and lacked hostility. She stood and paced to increase blood flow, hoping it would stall her headache. “I sometimes work alone or with my assistant or another attorney. I only hire gay men to ensure there is never a romantic connection. I don’t want my assistant holding some schoolboy crush on me, and fucking things up in the office. I don’t want conflicts with another female attorney so gay fits the bill.”
He leaned forward with folded hands on her desk. “I got burnt badly at my last firm, and can’t talk about it due to a gag agreement, but I didn’t like the large, fancy law firm environment. I enjoy people and interacting with them. The larger law firm I worked in forced me to surrender humanity and a normal life. I’m no longer willing to do that.”
She smiled. “I’m an escapee from the twelfth floor myself, in part because I wasn’t willing to lie down and spread my legs for the old fucks.” She grabbed the top of her right shoulder and held tight as a bolt of pain shot through it. It took a moment to recover. “You took those bastards down, and I respect that.”
“I couldn’t stand the rampant, unethical conduct, the violations of so many laws, breaking of client confidentialities, and skimming profits with three sets of books. There were other issues that attracted the FBI.” He sighed. “I don’t care for your posture on gay and female employees, and I doubt we would work well together, so I’ll withdraw my application. With that said, this might be inappropriate, but I can do a little massage on your neck and shoulders. You seem to be in deep pain.” He stood, took a pocketknife out of his pocket, opened the blade, and slid it across the desk to her. “Come sit in this chair with the low back so I can access your upper back and neck muscles. The moment I touch you inappropriately, stab me. I was known at my last firm for relaxing coworkers. I did massage at a fitness club and worked my way through college.”
“You’re serious?”
“Of course, but only if you want me to. I understand if you don’t, in which case I’ll bid you good evening.” There was a friendly air about the handsome man. Hmm, likely a do-gooder.
She grabbed the knife and stood, then her legs carried her to sit where he’d been a moment before. As she sat back in the chair, she wondered if she’d lost her mind entirely.
He coached, “Take slow deep breaths and imagine your muscles being relaxed and healthy. Pain is replaced with a sense of health and well-being.” His hands floated down to her shoulders.
“Oh!”
“I’m sorry, did that hurt?”
“No, I swear that just your touch lessened the headache.”
“Likely the deep breaths; they work every time.”
Although he only touched her neck and shoulders with his strong hands, it was as though a magical energy radiated down each arm to her fingertips and cascaded along her back. Her hand relaxed and she dropped the knife. For a second she forgot where she was, the relaxation enveloping her. She closed her eyes as a sense of peace surrounded her. This is stupid; why’d I let him do this? But the headache is gone. Is he really here? Am I hallucinating? She had no idea how much time passed until he patted her shoulders.
“Okay, see if that helps.” He stood back.
She took a deep breath and released it in a long, slow sigh. “That was nice; thank you.” She pressed her hands over her blouse and long black skirt to regain her professional composure. “My headache’s gone.” She returned to her desk, and he bent to retrieve his knife.
“It was nice meeting you, Ms. Hardin. Good luck with your firm.”
She rotated her neck left and then right with no memory the last time it felt so well. Janet sighed again; not her usual harsh exhale, but one of relaxation. Her voice seemed unusually soft to her. “Can you start tomorrow?”
A smile grew on his face, but his eyes narrowed. “I don’t think we’d be a good fit, and I’ve withdrawn my application.”
She allowed a gentle smile to form. “But I didn’t consent to the withdrawal. I’m in a bind and need another attorney on staff. Give it a few weeks?”
He paused for a moment and gave her a grim look. “Yes, Ms. Hardin. What time?”
“Nine o’clock.”
“I’ll be here. Thank you.”
She shook his hand, escorted him out, locked the door, and stripped her clothes off as she headed to her bathroom. She ran the shower and stepped
in when it steamed. What a strange man he is. A lawyer with morals and compassion, and, ohhhhhh, his hands. I feel awesome.
Chapter Three
Solomon drove away chuckling at the interview with Ms. Hardin. She was attractive and he could understand her wary attitude toward office romances. He got home and bellowed, “I’m home.”
Mom called back, “In the kitchen.” Her voice held a resonance from younger days.
He walked in to find Brian, dad, and mom sitting down to mom’s thick, four-layer semi-sweet chocolate cake. He smiled. “Where’s mine?”
Dad pushed the rest of the cake forward and extended a fork. He wore a smile that he had often displayed in olden days. Solomon got a plate, served himself a big piece, and sat with his family.
Mom’s face lit and she rushed to him with a hug. “You’re a very bad boy,” she scolded happily.
Dad came around the table, gave Solomon a bear hug, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, son. Why didn’t you tell us you were using your settlement money on us?”
Sol warmed inside as he savored mom’s chocolate cake. “I guess I forgot. Did you get a letter from the bank?” He couldn’t contain his grin.
Mom sighed once, and then again as she sat. “You’re an angel to pay off the mortgage and give us $200,000 on top of that.” She shook her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Solomon, my boy, I love you. Thank you. I worry that you give so much but don’t care for yourself, ever since you were a child. I recall how you gave Brian your savings to replace his stolen bicycle.” She sighed. “When was the last time you had a girlfriend to share your life with? While I enjoy my boys being home, it’s not healthy for either of you to stay too long.”
Mom’s words hit his heart. She was correct, but he had always disliked the attention being on him. “Ah, see you’re where I get it. You want your children here while saying get out to live full lives.” His heart swelled with love for her. “I’ve heard and seen of so many dysfunctional families, I’m blessed to have you two as my parents. I love you.” He turned to Brian. “I love you too, Brian.”
Brian squeezed Sol’s neck. “You’re a class act, bro.”
Sol swallowed hard, a lump in his throat. “It killed me to think after all these years you might lose the house, and I couldn’t let that happen.” His vision blurred as he fought against tears. “I love you. You raised Brian and me and sacrificed so much over the years so that we could go to college and I could go to law school.”
The room filled with a loving silence.
Mom finally spoke. “So… how was your day?”
“Good. I went on that job interview that Brian saw in the newspaper a while ago. I start tomorrow.”
“Awesome, bro. Give you something to do instead of moping around here.”
“Yeah, I need to do something.” He shivered. “I feel lost with no purpose in my life. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.”
Dad took a bite of cake and asked, “Tell us about the interview.” He never did well with touchy-feely conversations.
“Pretty basic job meeting. She asked about why I applied to a small firm after working for the big sharks. I explained why, she thinks I’m gay, I gave her a neck and shoulder massage, and I’m hired. She’s a bitch, so I’ll work there a while until something else comes along or I shoot her.”
Brian teased. “You’re a pacifist and hate guns.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Sol laughed and took another bite of the awesome cake.
Mom shook her head and asked, “Why did you tell her you were gay?”
“I didn’t. She asked where I saw the ad for the job, and I told her in the underground newspaper. She assumed I was gay from that and said she only hires gays, so they don’t get the hots for her.” He laughed again.
Brian said, “Well, it is a gay paper!”
Sol took a large bite of cake. “It won’t last long but will give me something to do.”
Dad groaned. “You didn’t like the games and farces in the big places, but you’re going to start a new job as a liar? That’s wrong.”
“Dad, it’s her thing to want only a gay man, a weird sort of discrimination. She deserves it. I never said what my sexual orientation is, and I have this weird feeling about the place.”
Brian laughed. “Uh-oh. Sol’s in fix-it mode, trying to make the world perfect.”
Sol ate more cake, refusing to admit that his baby brother might be correct.
Dad shook his head. “Honey, take me out for an evening walk, please.”
Mom laughed. “Get your leash and a poop bag.” They kissed like when they were younger, and it made Sol happy.
Brian yelped in a high-pitched voice, “Yuck! Mom and Dad are getting mushy.”
After their parents went outside, Brian continued, “I give you a month to either quit there or end up running the firm.” He laughed. “Or maybe you’ll bed her.”
“Yuck! She’s a bitch but easy on the eyes.”
* * *
The next morning, when Solomon arrived at work, he parked in front of the octagonal building that still held some sort of awe for him. He strode in to the round reception area with eight desks. Five were empty.
A man stood at the one closest to Ms. Hardin’s office. “Good morning, may I help you?”
“I’m Solomon Thornton. Ms. Hardin hired me last night as the new attorney.”
The tall, handsome man’s face dropped. “I’m Ms. Hardin’s assistant. I didn’t know she was doing interviews.”
Sol blinked. A hell of a way to run a firm.
Like a hurricane, Ms. Hardin rushed into the office. “Damn it. I had an accident. Robert, call my insurance company.” She nodded to Solomon and rushed to her office.
Robert called after her, “I need the location and other details before I call.”
“Damn it! Call the fucking insurance company and get me some coffee.”
Robert called the insurance company, pointed to the coffeepot, and whispered to Sol, “One sugar and milk.”
“I don’t fetch coffee.”
Another man jumped up from a desk, prepared a cup, and rushed into Ms. Hardin’s office.
Robert was obviously on hold. “That’s Phillip, your assistant. He’s had his hands full after your predecessor walked out.”
“You’re all afraid of her.”
“You will be too if you know what’s good for you.”
Sol chuckled.
Ms. Hardin rushed back in. “Robert, this is, uh, I forgot. Introduce him around; he’s the new attorney.”
Sol smiled. “It’s Solomon.”
She grunted. “Yes, Sol, have Phillip show him around.”
Sol raised an eyebrow. “Ms. Hardin, I go by Solomon. Only my family calls me Sol.”
She glared and opened her mouth to speak when a uniformed police officer walked in. With all eyes on him, the officer gave a professional smile. “I’m looking for Janet Hardin.”
The color drained from Robert’s face, as he pointed.
The officer, bearing two dozen extra pounds, strode up to her. “May I see your license, please? It’s about the accident you just had. You’re required to properly identify yourself and check for injuries at an accident scene before leaving.”
Ms. Hardin waved him off and snapped, “I don’t have time now. Come back later.”
The officer’s face hardened. “No, you do have time, and it will be here or at the police department prior to your booking into jail.” He took out a pair of handcuffs.
Ms. Hardin rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop with the movie dramatics.”
He stepped forward, grabbed her wrist, and had the cuffs on one and then her other wrist in a moment. “You’re under arrest for hit and run and interfering in the duties of a police officer. We’re going to my car now.”
Ms. Hardin yelled, “I left my fucking business card there. I did identify myself.” She pulled one way, and the officer jerked her the other.
Solomon held his h
ands up. “Officer, may I speak? I’m one of the staff attorneys.”
“Not unless you were there and witnessed the crash.”
“I wasn’t there, but may I speak, please?” He offered his best, innocent look. “Please, officer.” The irate cop nodded.
“Thank you. Were there injuries?”
“No.”
“Did she leave her card with the other driver?” He nodded. Ms. Hardin opened her mouth. Solomon held his finger to his lips and shook his head. “Officer, may I suggest that since this is a misdemeanor that you issue her a citation and release her here. I fully understand she’s also in violation of section 999, but with your very anemic staffing that the mayor and city council have hampered you with, your time is better spent on other duties. It’s your call though.” He shrugged and gave his gentlest smile.
The officer sighed. “Section 999, huh?”
Sol nodded. “I have a few friends on the force and have been on ride-alongs. Ms. Hardin will give you a brief statement and gladly sign the ticket to keep her from the embarrassment of going to jail and being with the hardened criminals.”
Twenty minutes later, the officer finished writing her statement and giving Hardin a ticket. He left. Ms. Hardin stormed into her office. “Both of you get in here.”
Robert whispered to Sol, “What’s 999?”
“Contempt of cop. A big mouth and bad attitude earn a lot of people a ride to jail.”
In Ms. Hardin’s office, she snapped at them, “Neither of you is to mention this event. Sol, I need you up to speed on the cases you’re inheriting ASAP.”
“It’s Solomon.”
“Whatever.”
Solomon stared. “It’s Solomon.” They locked eyes like two lions about to do battle.
She broke the stare-down first. “Fine.” She shooed them away with a wave of her hand.
After they walked back to Robert’s desk, Robert asked Solomon, “Do you have any idea what you’re in for?”
“It’s coming to me quickly.”
“Don’t take her on, because she’ll make the entire office pay for it. I need the job and benefits. The employment market stinks.” He chuckled. “I’ve never seen anyone stare her down or shush her before. If it’s okay to suggest, don’t make a habit of it or you won’t last two weeks.”
Correcting Ms. Hardin Page 2
