The Bridgewater Case

by R. C. Martin

  “There may or may not have been a bit more than a kiss. Sally, we talked for hours. And then, you know, one thing led to another…”

  Her voice trails off, and I scoff at her. “You are seriously holding out on me right now.”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” she says as we enter the warm lobby, headed for the elevators. “We’ll give it a couple of weeks and see how things go. If I’ve got anything to report after that, we’ll have a girl’s night and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “Deal,” I agree.

  Our conversation shifts as we board a crowded elevator. We’re the last to get off, and we say our goodbyes before returning to our desks for the rest of the day. I arrive at my chair only to find a couple of folders and a note on top. I recognize Dane’s handwriting immediately and read over his instructions to make copies of the noted documents inside. I set out to the supply room to do so right away, glancing in on him as I pass his office. He doesn’t notice me, his focus completely honed in on his work. It makes me smile. The man certainly knows how to give something his undivided attention. I admire that about him. I’ve also come to appreciate it—especially when he’s directing his undivided attention on me.

  I’m so busy trying to shove aside my sexual thoughts of Dane, I hardly take note of the fact that the door to the supply room is closed. With people being in and out of it all day, stocking up on file folders, stealing pens, and accessing the copy machine, it’s rarely shut. Now, even with it closed, the door remains unlocked—except, what I find on the other side makes me wonder if the occupants of the room knew that.

  Frozen in shock, I can’t stop myself from staring far longer than I actually want to. On the other side of the copy machine, there’s a woman bent over the small table, where various paper products are stacked. Behind her, with his pants opened and his cock buried inside of her, is Allen. My brain automatically tells me it’s Meghan bent over the table—but when Allen stops to look my way, it’s Lydia’s head that pops up.

  I gasp when her eyes lock with mine, and then I’m quick to turn around. I slam the door shut behind me, and my feet can’t carry me away fast enough. My mind is racing, wondering what the hell I just walked in on.

  “Sally! Sally, wait. Stop!”

  I hear Lydia, but I don’t listen. When I feel her hand wrap around my bicep, I spin to face her, yanking my arm out of her grasp.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  I barely recognize the panic that’s on her face, too disgusted with the fact that she just had Allen’s dick inside of her. Allen—who is not only not Chandler, but also a few decades older. I’d even be surprised if he wasn’t older than her father. Not to mention his total creep factor.

  “Please don’t tell Dane,” she begs.

  At the sound of Allen’s footfalls, we each look over and see him stop in front of the supply room door. He looks at me pointedly, straightening his tie before walking out of sight, headed for his office, I presume. I know, without Lydia having to say a word, exactly what’s going on between them. Whatever he has with Meghan, it’s not what’s going on here. He’s not even going to defend her.

  My chest aches unexpectedly. My gaze still trained on the spot he just abandoned, I understand that what I thought I knew about the man was only the tip of the iceberg. Dane doesn’t like to talk about him much, but I’ve always known how much contempt he feels toward his father. I know he hurt him by being the selfish man that he is. However, seeing Allen respond to this situation, it makes me feel dirty for even witnessing it.

  It’s obvious he’s taking advantage of Lydia, and yet he shows not one shred of remorse or embarrassment. Regardless of her reasons, he should know better. As a partner at this firm, he should have more respect. I can’t imagine what it’s like to grow up in the shadow of such a man. Now, more than ever before, I understand why Dane has always worked tirelessly to outshine his father and make a name for himself.

  “Sally!” Lydia hisses, snapping her fingers in front of my face. She physically deflates when she has my attention and then begs, “Please—don’t tell Dane.”

  “Don’t tell Dane what?” asks Meghan.

  As she walks toward us, her purse hung over her arm while she unbuttons her jacket, I start to piece together what’s happening here. She has no clue that Allen is screwing Lydia. Considering their timing, I’m sure they waited until Meghan went out to lunch before they snuck away.

  “Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Lydia states, sweeping her hair off of her shoulders.

  Speaking through a smirk, Meghan mutters, “Lydia, you’re white as a sheet. Something is going on.”

  Certain that I don’t want to be caught in the middle of this, I turn and hurry toward Dane’s office. Lydia calls out after me, but I ignore her, walking faster. As soon as I reach Dane’s door, I open it without knocking, pressing my back against it as it closes. He looks away from his computer, his curiosity expressed in his slight scowl. Needing a second to clear my head, I hug the files in my arms to my chest and breathe deeply.

  This is certainly not the drama I was expecting on our first day back.

  I’M LOSING MY patience, on the verge of demanding that she speak, when she says, “I don’t know if I need you to be my man right now, or my boss.”

  My scowl deepens. I open my mouth to inquire about her meaning, but she speaks again before I can.

  “Be my man—just for a second.”

  “Okay,” I grunt, too curious to deny her.

  “There’s only one person I’ve ever met with eyes as beautiful as yours. Except, they’re not. The man behind those eyes, he’s not kind. He’s not chivalrous. He’s not generous or fair—his eyes aren’t beautiful because they’re cold. They’re calculating. He’s not a good man, not like you. And I knew that—I knew it, but not like I think I know it now.”

  My chest grows tight in anger, anger which I do not know how to categorize as I do not know what’s happened. I stand to my feet, propping my fists on my desk as I question, “What happened? What did that fucker do to you?”

  “Nothing. He didn’t do anything to me,” she insists, taking a step away from the door. “Okay, I need you to be my boss now.”

  “Sigourney,” I mutter impatiently.

  “I just walked in on him and Lydia.”

  Straightening to full height, I twist my neck, willing myself to rein in my ire. She need say no more. In all honesty, I should have seen this coming. Perhaps if I wasn’t more concerned with other more important matters, I would have. Since that first day he came in here, giving me shit about Sigourney and my playing favorites, I should have known.

  “Dane?” Sigourney murmurs as I come from behind my desk, walking purposefully toward the door.

  “I’ll handle it,” I mutter, not bothering to stop as I pass her.

  “Dane,” she calls once more.

  I pause, the door in my hand as I glance down at her. I read the expression in her eyes without difficulty. She’s apologizing, her regret not hers to bear. She didn’t do this. She’s merely the messenger.

  “Babe—this is not new to me.”

  She nods, and the sadness that mares those fucking eyes makes me want to kiss her. I refrain, barely, remembering where we are and the boundaries we’ve adamantly maintained.

  As if she can sense my internal struggle, she smiles knowingly and whispers, “Go.”

  Without further ado, I journey to my father’s office. When I arrive, he’s sitting at his desk, watching as Meghan and Lydia argue with one another.

  Fucking prick.

  I make my entrance without permission and promptly demand that the women leave. Meghan stomps her foot and glares at my father before making her exit. Lydia doesn’t even look my way. As soon as she gets to the door, without even sparing her a glance, I warn, “I’ll be dealing with you later.”

  “Had you heeded my advice, son, this little squabble could have been avoided,” my father says casually when we’re alone.

  “I beg yo
ur pardon?”

  “She came to me for help. It’s you who encouraged her in my direction. She was merely seeking an opportunity.”

  Smiling snidely, I combat my complete and utter malice toward the man and reply, “How convenient that a mutual attraction developed between the two of you while she was seeking an opportunity.”

  “Don’t hate the player, son—hate the game.”

  My smile dissolves into a sneer as I bark, “This is not a game. This is our law firm, for fuck’s sake. The second your name is in the paper for a sexual harassment suit—”

  “Don’t act ignorant. It’s not becoming. My name will not be tied up in such a scandal. It never is. I’m not an idiot. Nothing was promised. Nothing was exchanged. She was begging for it.”

  “You’re a joke. You’re a bastard and a goddamn liability. I want you gone.”

  “And you’re a self-righteous, arrogant, son of a bitch,” he counters, rising from his chair. “I’m not going anywhere. This firm wouldn’t be half of what it is without me. You think you can walk into my office and scare me? You’ve got another thing coming, son. Get the fuck out of here.”

  I don’t move, standing my ground and making my intentions clear. As I stare into his eyes, the same shade of blue as mine, I make myself a vow. I will best him. It might not be today—fuck—it could take months or even years. I’m not an idiot. I know the power behind his name, but I could give a fuck. I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge—especially not one this enticing.

  I. Will. Best. Him.

  Well aware that there are issues at hand that need to be dealt with immediately, I leave without another word. I head straight for Maverick’s office, hoping to find him around. I arrive just as he’s hanging up his phone, and I poke my head in the room as I inquire, “A moment?”

  “Sure, my good man, I’ve got a few.”

  “Great,” I clip, with no patience left for pleasantries. “Come with me.”

  He hesitates, but I don’t. I hear the clicking of his shoes a few seconds later as he hurries to catch up with me.

  “What’s this about, Dane?”

  “My father.”

  “Christ,” he mutters underneath his breath.

  Not wanting to pass my father’s office again, we take the long way to our destination. I barely notice Sigourney at her desk, watching as we pass, too intent on my purpose. I’m relieved when we reach Rebecca’s office and find her door propped open. She and Avangeline are sitting across from each other on the sofa, and they both look up at us as we enter. One glance from Avangeline, and I know I’ll have the audience I want in an instant.

  “I’ll…be back in a few,” she says cautiously as she stands.

  She slips out of the room, closing the door behind her. Rebecca folds her hands across her knees as her gaze shifts between Maverick and me.

  “I’m guessing, by the look on your face and the fact that we are one partner short, this will not be a particularly pleasant visit.”

  “Something needs to be done. As soon as possible. I can’t do it alone.”

  “Have a seat, gentleman.”

  Four Weeks Later…

  I’M GETTING READY to close out my email for the day when I get a message I’ve been waiting for all week. Glancing across the room, I see Sigourney curled up on the couch, her heels abandoned on the floor as she looks over the case notes and opening statement I finished for the Bridgewater case today. We go to trial tomorrow, and I’m confident we’ve got everything we could possibly need. I have not a single doubt in my mind that we’ll win. These days, I have a few other things on my docket to worry about.

  After what happened between my father and Lydia, I suddenly had a vacancy in my staff. While I’ve been given permission to hire an associate to fill said vacancy, I can’t seem to find the time to worry about it. On top of my client list and my case load, there are some changes going into effect around the firm—big changes—all of which require my time and attention.

  All of which are of an extremely delicate nature.

  I’ve told no one, not even Sigourney, but the partners and I are making moves. Everything will come into the light in due time; but for now, we’re acting carefully. We’re proceeding with caution and wisdom. The Lydia incident pushed us all over the edge, and my insistence that my father be pushed out was considered at a degree of seriousness it never has been before. The email I’m reading over carefully now is an important step among many that will propel us forward in precisely the direction I desire to go.

  So engrossed in what I’m doing, I don’t notice as Sigourney crosses the room. It isn’t until she props herself up on my desk that I notice she’s beside me. “Do I need to order dinner? It’s okay if I do. Just tell me.”

  “No. I’m almost finished here,” I assure her. “Put your shoes on. We’ll leave in a minute.”

  I return my focus to the email, but she doesn’t move. Instead, she breaks my concentration as she softly murmurs, “I know something’s going on, and you’re not telling me what it is. You’ve been meeting with Rebecca and Maverick more than usual lately. And the board meeting today? You barely mentioned it. Something’s happening, and I’m not sure what it is. If you don’t want to tell me—if you can’t tell me—I understand. I just, I don’t know. I guess I just wanted you to know that I knew.”

  When she’s finished speaking, she slips from off of my desk and starts to walk away from me. I catch her around the wrist, letting my hand fall until my fingers are wrapped around hers. She looks back at me, and I see nothing but trust, curiosity, and love in her gaze. The others and I agreed that we wouldn’t speak of this with anyone at the office—including those in our closest circles. I’m certain neither Adele nor Avangeline know of what we’re planning. Yet, Sigourney isn’t just my secretary. She’s mine. I trust her with more than my work or my secrets. I trust her with my whole being.

  “Not here, all right?”

  She nods, and I let her go. After I’ve forwarded the information I have to both Rebecca and Maverick, I lock down my computer for the day and gather my belongings to head home. Sigourney meets me at the door, and she hits the lights before reaching for my hand. With our fingers laced together, we walk silently toward the elevators.

  I note the time as we arrive at the parking garage. I know a patrolman has been assigned to our building, and he makes a sweep of the place a few times a day. It’s a couple of minutes after seven, which means he should have made his rounds not too long ago. I’m not sure if the threats have stopped because our assailants have given up on their scare tactics, or if it’s because a squad car has been parked in the vicinity for the past several weeks. Either way, I’m glad they’ve kept their distance.

  After walking Sigourney to the passenger side of the Benz and opening her door, I hurry to the driver’s side, ready to be home. When I pull into traffic, I reach for Sigourney’s hand, holding it in my lap as I start to fill her in on the secrets I’ve been keeping.

  “My father owns forty percent of the firm. Rebecca owns twenty-three percent, Maverick owns twenty, and I come in at the bottom with seventeen percent. We’re planning on taking Allen’s forty percent. We’re going to buy him out. It’s already been agreed, it’ll be split thirty-five, thirty-five, thirty. I’m the least tenured; therefore, I’ve agreed to take the smallest share.”

  “Oh, my god—Dane, are you serious?” she gasps, her grip around my hand tightening. “How? He’s not going to go without a fight. You can’t just—”

  “We can, and we will. It’ll take some time, but we’re working on it.”

  “How?” she repeats.

  “The board meeting today, it was called in light of the incident with Lydia. There are some company wide changes that will go into effect immediately—changes of which my father has been made aware. However, under that guise, we were able to keep him out of the room for part of the proceedings. It is within our rights to buy him out based on his inappropriate behavior. He got sloppy. He
got caught with his dick out. Regardless of the fact that Lydia was a consensual participant, the board does not condone such illicit behavior.

  “That said, I just received word of the value of our firm. We’re all now aware of exactly how much it’ll cost us to buy him out. It won’t be cheap, but the return will be worth it. As soon as each of us are ready to hand over the cash, we’ll need to hire an acquisitions attorney. Someone from the outside. Someone we can trust. If all goes according to plan, he’ll be out by the end of spring.”

  “Dane—baby, this is huge,” she breathes.

  “I know,” I mutter with a nod. “Which is why it is of the utmost importance that you tell no one.”

  “I understand,” she assures me. We ride for a moment in silence before she asks, “You said in the board meeting that there were company wide changes that would be going into effect immediately. What are these changes? What does Allen think is going on?”

  “We’re implementing a new rule in the employee handbook. There are to be no sexual relations between employees at the firm, unless they are married. If caught, it is within our rights to fire both parties.”

  Yanking her hand out of mine, she gasps, “What? Dane, how could you agree to that? We’re not married.”

  “We also aren’t fucking on company grounds. It’s a non-issue for us, babe.”

  “No—no, it’s not. You just held my hand while we were leaving the building. That’s all the proof they need.”

  Taking my eyes off the road for a second, I glance over at her before reaching out and burying my fingers in her hair. Shifting my focus back in front of me, I grip her neck affectionately and assure her, “Sigourney, you’re fine. We’ll both be fine.”

  “We’re fine until when? Until someone decides you’re taking advantage of your partnership and bending the rules for me? I know you don’t want to get married. I don’t want to get married because some employee handbook says we have to, either—but I don’t want to lose my job. I sure as hell can’t lose you! Why does it feel like it’s one or the other?”