She stands, and it's impossible to miss the bump in her usually svelte, Pilates shaped body without an ounce of fat.
"I'll need you to sign in your guests." She passes a clipboard across the polished marble.
"This is my team, Scottie and Miller." I release Miller's hand and sign them in myself.
Kristi gives a slight wave, her gaze glossing over as she stares a little too long at Miller.
Scottie doesn't hide his snicker, and I try to remain passive.
"What the fuck are you doing with my fiancée?" A snarly bark comes from the other side of the lobby as Brock storms across the area.
I spin, Miller closing in on my back as Scottie steps halfway in front of me protectively.
"Fiancée?" Kristi cries out.
My head flies to the side in time to see her hands land on her baby bump.
"Fiancée? You're engaged to her?" she repeats in a strangled voice.
It all clicks into place, and my chest seizes at the heartache in her appearance. He ignores her completely, stopping a few feet away, his eyes sweltering with self-righteousness.
It's time. I straighten my shoulders, find my inner bitch, and glare back at him. "You demanded I come, I'm here."
An evil grin curls on his lips as he nods. "Defiance looks sexy on you, Ash. I've missed it."
Miller snarls, Kristi sobs, and Scottie whistles low.
"We'll be in my office. Deal with your mess." I hook each man's elbow and usher them out of the lobby without another look at the poor girl.
My entry code still works and I drop their elbows, walking in front of them, feeling all eyes of the staff as we pass. It seems like a hundred miles before we reach my old office and I can close us in.
Once the door is shut, Miller is in my space. His body is trembling, his anger alive in the room. "I don't like him near you."
"He's slime."
"Well, I didn't see that coming. The receptionist is knocked up with Satan’s baby. Sucks to be her." Scottie falls back on my office couch, clearly unaffected.
"She's a twenty-eight-year-old woman who was orphaned when her parents died in an accident!" I hiss. "She's been working her way toward a bachelor's degree in paralegal sciences for years! He took advantage of her."
"Got that, but cool the empathy for a few more hours, Burberry Bitch."
"I hate this place!"
"Understandably. Stephanie and I would never sleep with our receptionist," he throws back.
"Scottie," Miller growls, "let's get this shit going."
"Right, Ashlyn probably needs to have this couch soon. Pregnant women need to rest."
All my reflexes go at once, and I instantly fall back to the door, shoving Miller back. "I'm not pregnant."
"You are after that performance in the shower this morning. It rocked through the walls."
All the breath leaves my lungs, and my jaw drops as I glance at Miller.
The anger drains from him, and his cocky smile blinds me. "Yeah, that was good."
"ARE YOU CRAZY? Don’t encourage him. "
"I think it was a good performance."
"I agree." Scottie thrusts his hips in the air.
"Boys! I hate you right now." Embarrassment washes through me.
"Good, I need a lot of hate instead of this—whatever it is." Scottie heaves himself up as there's a knock at my back.
They go stone still, assuming similar stances as I open the door and find my previous junior associate in M&A, Lena, scowling with a stack of files.
"Fucking golden girl shows back up." She shunts past me, making a point to elbow me in the ribs. "You left a goddamn mess."
"Lena, I didn't invite you into my office." I snap into character.
"Cut the shit. I'm done walking in your footsteps; I'm an associate now. Brock and the senior team think this case needs your grace, your name on this because of your reputation. But I'm done living in your shadow."
"My shadow is the best place you could be. Ride those coattails as long as you can."
She glowers, flames directed to me. "Fuck you, Ashlyn."
The air in the room turns glacial. A quick glance toward Miller and Scottie tells me they're unhappy but letting me take the lead. I cross my arms, locking gazes with Lena. One of my sharpest traits while practicing law was the ability to read people. It was a survival skill in my position. The proficiency clicks back into place easily as I study her closely.
My and Lena’s working relationship was purely professional. With me dead set on gunning the fast track to partnership, there wasn't the time or interest in any socialization. Her work, research, and dedication were acceptable, and with the right mentor, she could have skyrocketed.
No one in my professional circle had any interest in coaching her to the next level. They passed her over repeatedly for opportunities she openly desired, but she kept working hard to prove herself. The black-hearted bitch in me played my role well.
But now, my chest aches. Looking at her, knowing she'd do anything to be noticed and get ahead, it's plain to see. The woman she was when I left was tough, but the hatred in her expression and the loathing in her spewed words tell her story.
They played her, annihilating her self-worth in the process.
"Lena, you didn't have to do it." My voice is steady but not harsh.
She remains stony, not giving anything away.
"He's a married man in a position of immense power. Judge or not, he would not escalate your career."
To some, it may be unnoticeable, but it's a blinking sign to me. Her dark eyes flicker and pack with regret.
She did what I wouldn't do. They swayed her to have sex in order to benefit the firm.
"You don't know what you're talking about," she replies acidly.
"Ashlyn." This comes from Scottie. His tone alone speaks his warning. This is not the time to show my bleeding heart. There's too much at stake.
I battle down my sympathy and square my shoulders, walking around her to the back of my desk. "I assume those files are for my review. You can leave them."
"I'm not leaving them. We will review them together. You don’t get to march back in and take credit for my work."
"You were always ambitious, but you're lazy. It takes a lot more than tail wagging and ass-kissing to get where you want to be in life. If they instructed you to bring those files for me to review, that tells me there's no credit to give. I've been brought back for a reason." The insults scald my throat, and my stomach rolls with self-disgust.
That was cold, even for the Prada Princess. I don't dare look at Miller for fear of facing his disappointment.
"You are a royal bitch." Lena drops the files, papers fanning across the desk.
"Hmm, so I've heard. Leave them and I'll send word when I'm ready to go over them with you."
"I suppose sleeping with Brock didn't hurt your climb up the ladder."
"My relationship with Brock was over a long time ago. Not that it's any of your business. If you think sleeping with him furthered my career, maybe you should have tried it."
Pain and rejection slash across her features, and I know I've hit an already severed nerve. She went after Brock and he dismissed her, prodding her to the judge.
She came in here ready for a fight and ready to unleash her resentment, but in this moment, she's wounded and struggling. Out of nowhere, it hits me; this may be a far stretch but I take my chance.
"This will all be over soon and I'll be gone. But in the future, if you want to get my attention, contact me directly and say what you want to say. Don't send me cryptic messages from an untraceable phone number with indolent threats."
The tension in the room ricochets up to top-notch. Miller's growl rumbles from his chest.
"I don't know what you're talking about." The slight tremble in her denial confirms my guess.
"You can go now," I dismiss her, dropping my attention to the papers strewn on the desk.
As soon as the door shuts with force, I allow my knees to
give out and sink into the chair. Both men remain quiet, staring at me, and I breathe in and out until the waves of nausea pass.
"That was unpleasant," I whisper, swallowing the emotions clogged in my throat.
Silence.
"No quick wit or inappropriate comment from you?" I direct the question to Scottie.
He shakes his head. "The intuition part of my brain is in awe. How the hell did you figure all that out? I was in the same room and didn't pick up on it."
"You're missing the gender perception. Lena was ambitious, and though she was overlooked a lot, she was never bitter. Disappointed, yes, but not bitter. She may have been promoted to associate, but it didn't come without a price. As a woman, I saw the betrayal in her. She did what they asked, and even through that, they don't trust her expertise. Me being here proves it. She has no credibility."
"And the text?" Miller inquires.
"That was a pure hunch and a risk. Knowing I was right about her sleeping with the judge to win over favoritism, and knowing Brock rejected her, gave me an edge. She surged in here with a mission to prove she deserved proper recognition and respect. I threw her off her game with the touch of compassion about the judge. She pretended to ignore you both, but there was a moment when she glanced at Miller. She knew who he was to me and she knew why I left."
Scottie lets out a low whistle, massaging the back of his neck. "We've been in these offices less than half an hour, and I'm ready to wash the stench off."
"It's weird being back here. The desk looks like it did when I left, except it's been cleaned. This is even my old laptop." My eyes fall to the computer that has a distinguishable scratch across the top.
"Princess," Miller crouches next to me. "You okay?"
"Yes, but years of closing off my heart and emotions are overwhelming me."
"That's because you finally flushed that out of your system."
I look him over, the polished loafers, impeccable navy suit undeniably custom made for his body, the starched cream oxford open at the neck that fits him like a glove, showing off his physique. His blue eyes, the cleanly shaved face, his messy-yet-sexy hair.
The good, the bad, the ugly… This man is mine.
I scrape my fingertips along the soft skin of his jaw. "I want the scruff back."
"It'll grow."
"I love you. Thank you for being here."
His eyes light up, dancing with humor. "How bad did that hurt?"
"The words are an incinerating inferno in my throat."
"Good." He leans in but is stopped when Scottie steps between us.
"Any reason your ass is in my face?"
"Yes, you both need to focus! There's work to do. By the way, my ass is a work of art."
My head snaps up to find a very serious Scottie invested in his tablet.
I lean back, covering my mouth, and try to stifle my laugh.
"Nothing funny here, Ashlyn," Miller grumbles, standing to full height and scowling.
"Yes, nothing funnier than Scottie stopping you for a kiss with his ass." I giggle.
"Dior Diva, I need focus." Scottie sends me a no-nonsense glare. "According to my network, this place is imploding. Three wives have shown, storming into offices and demanding divorces. This shit is streaming everywhere. Bitches are vicious, videos included." He turns the screen to face me.
The video playing is grainy, faces blurred out, and the audio is nothing, but it's clear to see a woman tearing into the man. I recognize this as taking place down the hall in one of the corner offices.
"He's a partner in the firm, he's a jerk, and he's been sleeping with two of the junior associates for the last year."
"Well, that makes sense why these two profiles have been going at it in the message room." Scottie pulls the tablet back and scrolls, turning it back to me.
Another video, taken from an odd angle but easy to interpret what's happening. Almost the exact scene, except I know this woman even with her face blurred out. She's beautiful, kind, and has always been genuine to me during the few social occasions we've been together. Unlike the last partner, this man seemed to adore his wife.
"Joe cheated on Amy? That's unbelievable. They're high school sweethearts, and he's kinda dorky."
Scottie clicks on a sidebar, bringing up a new screen full of conversations. He types in a few search terms and the screen changes. I'm a speed reader, but this is too much for me to catch up on.
"Joe apparently likes it dirty with multiple partners. It's easy to get over the dork factor when the man is wealthy and hung like a horse. There's a picture of his—"
"Scottie, if you show Ashlyn a picture of another man's dick, we'll have a problem," Miller grouses.
"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. It sounded like you were exceptionally adequate this morning."
"Scottie! Now is not the time for your crass shots." I jab him in the side.
He barely flinches, swiping again. "Oh, it looks like we have another issue, this one with one of your female counterparts. No video, but she's busted for sleeping with a prominent land developer."
"Is this entire thing about uncovering infidelity?"
"No, but sex is more exciting and dramatic than exposing bribes and extortion. That's happening, too."
"Scottie, you said this network was confidential. Those videos were taken on this floor. I can probably take you directly to the employees' desks. That's not confidential; that's close."
"You're thinking small scale. I'm showing you these because they relate to us, but this kind of exposure happens all the time. Most likely, there are people in this office that know of each other and their involvement in the group. But this is global. People have no idea this is happening in Chicago. If you noticed, there are no identifying markers of where this is happening. All locations, names, and faces are stripped away. Every member of this message board network is a pseudonym to protect themselves."
"This is unreal. I didn't understand the scope of what you were telling me until now. If everyone goes to extremes to keep their confidentiality, how'd you track anything back to this firm?"
He glances down at me, his eyes glittering with mischief. "The less you know, the better. My alias has spent endless hours online building my credibility with outrageous claims that gathered attention."
"Out of thousands of members, you were able to zero in on employees of this firm?"
"I put crawlers out. Pretended I was moving to Chicago and wanted juice on the firms. People love to gab and gossip. Information poured out, and the rest was investigative. Then I set the balls in motion. Like I said—endless hours."
"If you found them, can't they find you?"
"To these people, I'm a bullied paralegal working in a huge firm in Kansas City that is filled with scandalous activity.”
"Jesus, I don't understand it all, but if it works, I owe you."
Scottie perks up under Miller's approval. "And the best part is Ashlyn is squeaky clean."
"It doesn't feel clean to know marriages and careers are ending."
"That's not on any of us. All of this is part of the bigger picture. This exposure is meant to shake foundations and prove no one is untouchable. That part is done. Now it's your turn." Scottie points to my desk and goes back to the sofa.
"Anything I can do to help?" Miller offers, stepping behind me.
"Not unless you gained a law degree, expertise in acquisitions, and signed an RK&R iron-clad NDA."
He chuckles, leans down, and brushes his lips along my ear. "I'll be happy to watch you do your thing."
I squeeze his hand and turn my attention to the paperwork.
It doesn't take long for my mind to get into the zone and everything else disappears. My fingers fly across the keyboard, taking notes and detailing inquiries that don't seem to be in the discovery or documents. A familiar and welcome energy buzzes through my system, reminding me of the basic thrill I used to get with my work.
A bottle of water is placed in my line of sight, and I jo
lt out of my fog, peering up to Miller.
"I brought you a drink."
"Thank you." I take a quick sip and almost choke on my moan when his firm hands massage my shoulders.
"Time to take a break."
"I will soon."
"Ashlyn, you've been going at it for over two hours. Take a break."
My eyes pop out at the time on my screen. "Wow, I lost track of time."
It's then I notice his suit jacket lying across the back of the chair in front of the desk. Scottie's is across the other. They set the small table in front of the sofa up with my personal laptop, Scottie's tablet, notepads, bottles of water, and empty food wrappers.
"Where did you get the snacks and water?"
"Scottie and I took a trip around. We told you we were going."
"I was absorbed in work."
"I noticed." He flashes a smile.
Realization strikes and my stomach rolls. "You went out there? Without me?"
"We were only questioned twice, and Scottie explained we were with you."
"I'm not worried about security. I'm worried about the fact the piranhas are on the prowl. You're fresh meat."
He barks out a laugh, Scottie joining in.
"I'm serious."
"Princess, with the vibe all over this office, we were barely noticed."
"Has anything else happened?"
"Nothing like this morning, but word is spreading to clients who are flooding the staff with calls. But with the widespread awareness that spouses were getting anonymous tips on illicit activity, employees are lined up outside of Human Resources waiting to 'talk'." Scottie uses air quotes.
"I'm not complaining, but it's odd Brock hasn't shown his face."
"He's indisposed. Emergency partner meeting."
"Your message room report that?"
"No, that news isn't interesting to these people. We heard it in the break room."
I close my eyes and rub my temples to ease the tension building. Miller's fingers ease mine out of the way and take over, the warmth seeping into my skin.
"You okay? What can we do?"
"This, being here with me while we wait for the next train wreck to barge through the door."
"How's your finger?"
"Sore. I'm sure my notes need a full review because they're riddled with errors."
Miller's Time (Southern Charmers Series Book 2) Page 27
