by Nadia Lee
Justin was her kryptonite, and unlike Superman she was too stupid to stay away from him. One day when she least expected it, he’d destroy her. And probably the child too. She put a hand over her belly. Children were always collateral damage in their parents’ battles.
She dropped her gaze to stare at the bottom of the steering wheel. “I don’t want who you are to affect my career.”
“I don’t see how it’s related.”
He had to be joking, but maybe he honestly didn’t get it. Everyone knew he’d been hand-picked by his great-uncle to lead Sterling & Wilson. He’d been groomed from a very early age to be what he was today, and nobody whispered that the only reason he’d become Barron’s heir was dumb luck or anything other than his hard work and intellect.
“If I were a man,” Vanessa began, “who I was married to wouldn’t be a big deal. But for women, it is more important than what they accomplish. When a woman is discussed in a professional capacity, they talk about her marital status, whether or not she has children. If she’s pregnant, they discuss whether or not she’s taking maternity leave. It’s sexist and unfair, but that’s the way it is, and I have to work within that.”
She could never forget what Dane had said: It’s not like they’re hiring you for your brain. You can probably make partner without winning a single case, so long as you give them the Pryce family business.
She’d rather die than prove Dane right.
“If you’re worried about maternity leave…”
“It’s not the leave. If people see that I’m married to you, they’re going to wonder how much your name has affected the kind of cases, performance evaluations and raises I get. I made it clear to my firm from the beginning that I would never bring my family’s business to them, and I’ve worked very hard to nip any hint of favoritism at the bud. And so far, I think it’s worked. But you’re different.” She raised her chin. “When I make partner, it’s going to be based on my professional accomplishments, not because I’m married to you.”
“You’ve been at the firm for ten years, right?”
She nodded.
“I’ll wait until July. That’s when you have your eval, right?”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“You mentioned it once. I’ll wait until then, and if you make partner, great. If not…” He shrugged. “I won’t wait beyond that.”
“But—”
“No buts. This is non-negotiable.” His eyes were cold, and his tone even colder. She’d never seen him like this before, and his hard expression killed her objections. “You won’t be able to hide your pregnancy by then anyway. And we’ll be living together as a couple.” He put a finger on the tip of her nose. “Discreetly.”
“I’m not moving to Chicago,” she said quickly before she lost all control of the situation.
He shrugged. “That’s fine. I can be in L.A.”
“You don’t have an office in L.A.” Sterling & Wilson’s California office was in San Francisco.
“I am Sterling & Wilson, not some building.” There was a quiet surety and confidence in his voice.
Her mouth dried. “Are we going to Vegas?”
“Nothing as clichéd as that. Take next Friday off. I’ll send a jet to pick you up in the morning.”
“If you tell me where we’re going, I can arrange for my own trans—”
“Don’t. I’m meeting you most of the way, Vanessa. So humor me on this. Also we should go back to my place and get you fed and rested.”
“Can’t. I have tons of work to do, and I don’t want another associate to suffer because I’m not pulling my weight.”
“Felix Peck?”
She nodded.
“Fine. I’ll send you home on my jet then. And don’t even think about driving in this weather.” He pulled out a credit card and handed it to her. “Put whatever you need on this.”
She stared at the black AmEx. This was too fast, and panic knotted her belly. “What about London?” she said, desperate to throw up whatever obstacle she could manage.
“I’ll take care of her. All you need to do is show up.”
Chapter Six
Sitting in one of the conference rooms at Highsmith, Dickson and Associates, Vanessa checked her phone again. Justin had to have gotten her text that morning, but so far there was no answer.
Sighing, she pushed the thoughts of Justin out of her mind and tried to concentrate on the mountain of papers in front of her. She needed to review them all. The opposing counsel was being a jerk. Apparently he’d decided to kill her with kindness by sending her every minute document.
Soon Felix strolled in with two Starbucks and a paper bag filled with fries. A Yale graduate, he reminded Vanessa of a hungry lion with burning dark eyes and brown hair streaked with golden highlights. His thin lips looked like he disapproved of everyone, especially when he set them in an unsmiling line. They worked wonders when he wanted to intimidate witnesses or difficult clients.
As usual, Felix was in another of his classic Armani outfits, although he’d dressed on the casual side for the weekend. Unlike Vanessa, he had come from a lower middle class family in Cincinnati, and he was extra aware of the image he needed to project even though he didn’t mind food slumming with her on difficult cases. In return, Vanessa hooked him up at La Mer or Éternité, two of the most exclusive restaurants in the city owned by her brother Mark.
“You sure you don’t want to take some time off this weekend?” Felix said, handing her her tea. “You look like hell.”
“No, but thank you for the compliment.”
“You know what I mean.”
Vanessa knew exactly what he meant. She looked and felt like hell. Apparently crackers didn’t agree with her, and now she was craving French fries with the heat of a thousand suns. “I’m a little behind. Besides, I have tons of work to do before next Friday.”
“I can’t believe Harry gave you another day off,” he said, taking his seat. “I was sure he’d say no. What’s the secret?”
“It’s conditional.” Dickson had made it clear if she got everything done by Thursday, she could take Friday off. Otherwise, she had to keep her ass in her seat and get the work done.
“Yeah, right!” Stan Rivers stuck his head through the open door and snorted. “You’ll be able to go even if you don’t finish anything. Everyone knows that.”
Vanessa gave him a long, hard stare. A couple of years older than her, Stan was the most likely associate to make partner next, although there was some whispering that Vanessa might take his spot. She hated how people tried to pit them against each other, but most importantly she hated how smug and annoying Stan was. He was always bringing up the fact that she was a Pryce girl and knew a lot of people. He even talked about how she’d been invited to Barron Sterling’s granddaughter’s wedding—in a not so subtle way—to hint that she was being promoted at the firm only because of her connections.
It was just her luck he wasn’t even a terrible lawyer. He wasn’t great, but he was better than average—good enough to survive at the firm. Plus he knew how to be slick with partners and clients. He always dressed well and swaggered around like he knew he was a shoo-in for the promotion.
Which made her jaw ache.
“If I had the influence you think I do, you wouldn’t be working here.” Vanessa reached for her fries. “Felix, do you mind shutting the door? We have a lot of billable”—she looked pointedly at the pile of documents to review—“work to do.”
With an overly sympathetic smile, Felix shut the door in Stan’s face. “Can’t stand that guy.”
“You and me both.”
“I hope you make partner before him. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it if he does.”
“He’s not a bad lawyer.”
“That doesn’t make him great.”
Vanessa nodded and almost jumped when her phone buzzed. It was a text from Justin.
Why do you want my lawyer’s contact info?
Narrowing her eyes, she t
yped, So I can tell him where to send me the prenup.
A moment later, he responded, Send YOU a prenup? Isn’t it usually the other way around with the Pryces?
She sighed. Don’t be dense. At 25 billion and counting, Justin was worth more than her entire family.
No prenups.
You need to protect yourself.
If I wanted your legal advice, I would’ve signed a retainer agreement.
She glared at the screen. Felix looked over, his head tilted. “Who’s that?”
“A friend who’s refusing my legal advice.”
He snorted. “Not smart. I’d take your advice, especially if it was free. Does she have any idea how much you bill?”
“I know, right?” Vanessa typed, Fine. Have it your way. Don’t blame me if things go south.
Go south. As if. A moment later there was another message. Bring a white dress.
Stupidly arrogant. But she should’ve expected that from Barron’s heir. Everyone had assumed her parents’ prenup was iron-clad…except her mother’s lawyer Samantha, shark that she was, had found a way to chip away at it. Now she was questioning the validity of the document in the first place, which was dragging out the horrendous divorce process.
Her phone buzzed again. Vanessa glared at it, then picked it up just in case it was a real client who actually wanted legal advice from her. Instead it was her mother.
I’m finally all moved and settled. There will be a housewarming party on Saturday at six. Bring a date if you can.
Vanessa rolled her neck, trying to relieve the tension. Her mother had been avoiding her and her brothers for the last few weeks, and now came this last-minute notice for an event that was more or less obligatory.
Felix took a big gulp of his coffee. “You okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just my mom.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Great, apparently. She wants to have a housewarming party.”
“Oh.” He knew—like everyone else in the legal community and Vanessa’s social circle—that Ceinlys Pryce was divorcing her husband of almost four decades. “Are you going?”
“I guess. I don’t know.”
It depended on Justin’s plan, which he wasn’t telling her.
“I understand your dad’s contesting the divorce,” Felix said slowly, each word carefully chosen in that lawyerly way of his.
Grunting, she nodded. She didn’t know the details of her father’s strategy. Her parents weren’t talking to her or her brothers about the divorce at all. It hurt her she couldn’t talk to her mother about her impending secret wedding and motherhood or her doubts about Justin. Her mother wasn’t the best mother—Vanessa knew that much—but it would’ve been nice to talk things over with someone.
Vanessa sighed and turned her attention to the documents, which had to be finished if she wanted to elope. She had a feeling if she didn’t show up at the airport like she was supposed to, Justin would send a platoon of his minions to drag her to wherever he wanted her.
And what a spectacle that would make.
* * *
On Tuesday, she bumped into Bobbie, wife of John Highsmith and a partner in her own right, in the break room. A lot of people underestimated her at first glance because she was petite with soft babyish white-gold hair and a pixie face. Nobody who’d ever faced her in a legal battle thought her small and cute though. She was the kind of lawyer Vanessa wanted to be when she grew up: fierce, respected and smart. Not to mention that Bobbie was a straight shooter and never held a grudge. If she hated you, you knew about it. Vanessa, luckily, was on the “like” side.
“Long time no see,” Vanessa said.
“Yeah.” A bleached smile plumped Bobbie’s rosy cheeks as she poured coffee. “How you doing, Vanessa?”
Other than the stress of elopement and a baby? “Oh, fine.”
“Good. I heard about your new case with Felix. It’s a good one, very important for the firm.”
Too bad the client’s guilty.
Vanessa’s feelings must have shown on her face, because Bobbie gave her a look over the rim of her coffee mug that said I can eat babies for breakfast if it’s billable. “The kind of thing that can get you noticed if you handle it right.”
“I understand. Listen. Um, do you mind if we chat privately?”
The other woman shrugged. “Let’s go to my office.”
Vanessa grabbed her tea and followed Bobbie to her corner office. The place smelled faintly of paper, leather and old coffee. It was one of the three largest ones on the floor, with the great view of downtown L.A. Stacks of papers, accordion files and legal tomes covered her desk and two tables, while the shelves were occupied by neat rows of leather-bound books. On the desk by her small laptop, she kept a small, framed photo of herself, her husband and their son. They were smiling for the camera, and the boy looked happy. Bobbie was the woman who had it all.
Vanessa closed the door, then took a seat across from the partner.
“So, what’s going on?” Bobbie said.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering about.” Vanessa wrapped her hands around her cup. “Marriage and motherhood as a female lawyer, you know.”
“Are you getting married?” Bobbie’s gaze dropped to Vanessa’s empty finger.
“No, it’s a friend from Stanford.” Vanessa cleared her throat. “But it got me thinking. I’m not getting any younger.”
Bobbie snorted. “Neither is anybody else. Well, what can I tell you? Husbands aren’t too terrible if they understand the demands of our career. So I’d say generally it’s best if you get hitched to another lawyer or someone similar. As for a baby, I suppose it’s doable, but for a brilliant lawyer with a bright career ahead of her, it can be difficult. Babies are more demanding than any client, and you can’t do a damn thing about it. It’s not like you can give them back.”
Vanessa laughed, and Bobbie smiled.
“Unless you find the lawyer work a cakewalk or you feel some kind of unshakable compulsion to have a child…or your man is okay being a house-husband…I generally advise female attorneys not to do it. It can derail your career. And unfair as it is, child-rearing generally falls on the woman. It’s not easy juggling a child and demanding career.”
“But you have a son.”
“What I had was John’s parents. They practically raised the boy. I’m sure you know how it is. You had nannies growing up, didn’t you?”
Vanessa nodded. She and her older brothers had had a series of nannies, most of them young. Her mother hadn’t kept any of them for long, especially when she suspected they might attract Salazar’s attention. Even though Ceinlys knew about his affairs, having it happen under her own roof was just too much.
“They can make things easier. But still, the actual pregnancy and labor and recovery are all on you, and you might resent the fact that the baby’s in the way, or that your career’s keeping you away from your child. It’s not always logical or emotions we’re proud of, but it’s there. It makes things more complex.” Bobbie’s smile turned rueful. “Any of that help?”
“Yes.” Vanessa nodded. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. My door’s always open.”
As Vanessa left though, she couldn’t help but think her situation wouldn’t be the way Bobbie had described. Justin knew how her job was. And the baby could have all the best nannies in the world—there was a lot of Sterling money, and knowing Justin and Barron, she doubted they’d be stingy.
But she didn’t know where she might fit in. All she had was a sinking feeling that she wouldn’t be in the picture for long.
Chapter Seven
Justin’s jet arrived to pick Vanessa up from the small Long Beach airport. Fresh flowers added a nice accent to the luxurious leather and wood-grain interior. He must’ve had it done specially for the occasion, but she couldn’t relax and enjoy it.
Since their texts about the prenup, he hadn’t contacted her once. Not that she’d been standing around waiting for something
to come through the fax machine. She’d been swamped with work. Solaris Med was an important case, and it was already drawing a lot of media attention with accusations of wrongful termination and sexual harassment flung at the client. It wasn’t easy or uplifting to discredit the plaintiff when she knew they were right.
However, she’d managed to draft a fairly good prenup agreement in her very small amounts of spare time. It wasn’t her specialty, but she had a few to model from, like her parents’ own infamous version. Justin’s assets held little appeal, but she wanted a fair custody arrangement for the baby should they divorce.
Or, given what she’d seen in her own family, when they divorced.
The jet stopped in Chicago to pick Justin up and then flew on toward god only knew where. She couldn’t believe how high-handed and resolute Justin was. On the other hand, what had she expected? This wasn’t just any baby.
The heir to the Sterling & Wilson fortune.
Sterling & Wilson was worth billions and had tentacles into the most profitable sectors of six continents. Justin’s great-uncle, Barron Sterling, had built it into the massive empire from nothing, and he’d hand-selected Justin to lead the company since he’d been a toddler. Barron and Justin had every important person in the world on speed dial, and there was nothing they couldn’t do if they set their minds to it.
It was no wonder Justin had reacted the way he had at the news of her pregnancy. His family tended to be conservative and straight-laced about things. Even if she’d offered to give him the baby no-strings attached, he probably would’ve insisted on marriage. Then there was Barron’s reaction. The man had destroyed people—including some of his own family members—for displeasing him. Vanessa had heard how he’d virtually exiled his own granddaughter Kerri to boarding school for something or other. How would he react if he found out Vanessa wouldn’t marry Justin while carrying his child?
She stared at herself in the small window. Her black skirt suit was positively funereal. She’d never wanted to marry. Ever.
Marriage was the most miserable institution in the world, not only for the couple but for their children.
