by Anna Stone
“Essentially, yes,” Avery said. “It’s an open and shut case. A construction company the city contracts with has been underpaying their workers. There’s a long list of other violations. No overtime, no meal breaks, illegal wage deductions.”
“Sounds like the public will be very sympathetic to a case like this. It’ll make us look good to be supporting the little guy for once.” Lillian had to admit, it was a good move strategically.
“That’s it,” Avery said. “You’re the perfect person to take point on this case. A well-spoken woman will soften the image of the rough-edged construction workers, which will help if the case goes to trial.”
The irony of her helping to soften anyone’s image wasn’t lost on Lillian.
“Are you interested?” Avery asked. “We need this win, Lillian. My caseload is full at the moment. And Thomas is, well… Thomas.”
Lillian didn’t know where she would find the time for something like this. But as always, she would manage somehow. “I’ll take it. But I want free rein. I can’t work on a case like this when I have to stop and request permission every time I need one of the paralegals to work overtime.”
Avery nodded. “Use whatever resources you need. Within reason, that is.”
Lillian frowned. “Is money going to be a problem? Are the firm’s finances that bad?”
“I’m simply being cautious. We still have options. Laying off some support staff, for one.”
“Layoffs? Shouldn’t we at least look at pay cuts to the partners’ salaries before we start firing people?”
“I had no idea you were so selfless,” Avery said.
“None of us are hard up for money.” Lillian had considerable amounts in stock and investments. She assumed Avery did too. And Thomas’s family had wealth going back generations.
“We can consider it. Good luck getting Thomas to agree to that.” He leaned back in his old leather chair. “At this point, it’s all hypothetical. But it is worth thinking about. Pay cuts are just the beginning. If it comes to it, we’ll have to consider a merger, which is a far better outcome than an outright acquisition.”
“Mergers? Acquisitions? I didn’t think we were at that stage yet.”
“We’re not,” Avery said.
“Cut the crap, Avery. This is me you’re talking to.”
“Everything is fine. I’m just looking ahead.” Avery gave her the same reassuring smile he usually saved for clients.
Things must be worse than she thought.
12
Emma
Emma looked at the street sign above her. The cafe she was meeting Bridget at was somewhere nearby. She didn’t have many friends in Chicago yet, so when Bridget offered to show her around, Emma jumped at the opportunity. She wasn’t sure they had much in common; Bridget’s only interests seemed to be gossip and high-end fashion. But she was nice enough.
Emma tried not to think about her family and how she had chosen not to go home to see them this weekend. The whole reason she moved away was so that she could do her own thing. But she couldn’t help but feel like she was abandoning them—her mother especially.
“Emma,” someone called from behind her.
She turned to see Bridget walking toward her. “Hi, Bridget.”
Bridget kissed the air next to Emma’s cheek. “Today is going to be so much fun,” she said as they continued to the cafe. “There’s a salon down the road from here that does the best pedicures. And there’s a whole strip of designer boutiques just a few streets away.”
Bridget continued listing off places that she planned to show Emma, most of which involved shopping. It seemed that Bridget had a very different idea of exploring the city than Emma. Shopping wasn’t even on Emma’s radar. But then she remembered that she had a well-paying job now. Most of her paycheck was sitting unused in her bank account. She could afford to splurge. And she could use some new clothes.
“Sounds great, Bridget,” Emma said.
Bridget smiled. “We’re here.”
They entered a small cafe. The scent of pastries and freshly ground coffee beans filled the air. According to Bridget, the small, quaint cafe made the best pastries in the city. They ordered a variety of them, along with some coffee, and sat down.
Bridget started up again, updating Emma on the latest office gossip. Who was sleeping with whom, who had broken up with whom. Quite a lot had happened since Bridget had filled her in at the party. Emma soon found herself riveted by Bridget’s scandalous stories.
“So, Emma,” Bridget said. “What’s the deal with Ms. White?”
Emma froze. “What do you mean?”
“You work pretty closely with her. She hasn’t fired you, so she must like you.” Bridget leaned in. “What did you do to get on her good side?”
Emma’s heart skipped a beat. Did Bridget know something? Emma just shrugged, fearing her mouth would betray her.
“I just wish she’d let me use that executive bathroom of hers too. Is it true that sink is made of gold?”
Emma laughed. “Nope. But it’s huge. It has a shower and everything. And the lighting by the mirror is amazing.”
“You’re so lucky. They still haven’t fixed the ladies room.” Bridget sighed. “What’s Ms. White really like? You’ve got to have something juicy on her.”
“Well, you know how Ms. White is. She doesn’t give much away.” Emma almost called her “Lillian,” which no doubt would be suspicious. “You’ve been working at the firm for a while. You probably know more about her than me.”
“Most of what I know is from before my time,” Bridget said. “Apparently, she was one of those genius kids. Started college when she was sixteen and graduated from law school when she was twenty-two. She was already working at AG&W as an intern, so she got a job there right away.”
Lillian started college at sixteen? Emma barely remembered what she was doing at sixteen, but she was pretty sure she was struggling to pass her English class.
Bridget continued. “She worked her way up the ladder and became a partner in her late twenties. There were a lot of rumors going around because of how young she was and how close she was to Avery. I mean, a partner picking a hot young woman as his protege? Everyone assumed they were sleeping together.” Bridget paused, the way that she always did when she had something interesting to share. “But it turned out she was a lesbian all along. When I started working here, she was engaged.”
“Engaged? To who?” Emma hoped that the surprise in her voice didn’t give anything away.
Bridget shrugged. “I’ve forgotten her name. She was pretty, though. She would stop by to see Ms. White sometimes. They were engaged for years. In my opinion, if you’re engaged that long but don’t actually get married, there’s usually a good reason.”
“What happened?” Emma asked.
“I heard her fiancée dumped her. I don’t blame her. The two of them were complete opposites. Ms. White’s fiancée was so nice. I think she said more to me the few times we spoke than Ms. White has the whole time I’ve worked there. That was all years ago though.”
Emma sat back pensively. At the very least, this meant that Lillian wasn’t entirely emotionless. She’d been engaged. She’d been in love before.
“So,” Bridget said. “Is there anyone special in your life?”
“Nope,” Emma replied. “I’m totally single.” It was true. She doubted whatever it was she had with Lillian counted. It was only just beginning. Besides, Emma wasn’t about to tell the office gossip about it. A part of her wished she could tell Bridget. Or tell anyone. She felt like a teenager with her first crush. It was killing her to have to keep it secret.
“That’s too bad. I’m sure the perfect guy is out there for you somewhere.”
Emma was pretty sure at this point that a guy wasn’t what she was looking for. But she wasn’t quite ready to admit it out loud yet. “How about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” As the words left her mouth, she realized that she shouldn’t assume that everyone she met was
straight. She had never been concerned with that sort of thing until now.
“Well, there is this one guy I’ve been seeing for a few weeks. He works downstairs at that real estate firm. But I don’t see things going anywhere with him.” Bridget picked at her croissant. “It’s too bad that Tom from the office is off-limits.”
“Tom? You mean Thomas Jr.?” Emma remembered the man who had ogled her in Lillian’s office that day. Bridget had called him “Tom” that first morning that Emma had walked into AG&W.
“Yeah. He’s totally into me. And he’s pretty hot himself. But he can’t act on it because of some stupid rule about not dating partners. Not that it will matter if the firm collapses.”
“What? Is the firm in trouble?” Emma asked.
“Well, Monica told me that AG&W is pretty much bankrupt. We’ve only got a few months before we’ll all be out of jobs.”
“Seriously?” Emma asked.
Bridget shrugged “Probably.”
Emma doubted it was quite as bad as Bridget said. She was prone to exaggeration. Still, Emma wondered how Lillian was handling the fact that her firm was on the brink of collapse.
They finished their coffee, and Bridget announced that it was time to go shopping. Bridget and Emma walked a few blocks north until they came to a street which seemed to be made up of designer clothing and shoe stores. Emma followed Bridget into the first one they came to. The shop assistant greeted Bridget by name.
“I spend a quarter of my paycheck here,” Bridget explained. “Let’s be real, most of my job is to sit around and look pretty. Which gives me an excuse to go crazy here every now and then.”
Emma was no longer surprised by Bridget’s frankness. It was becoming clear that Bridget was much more than the photo-perfect smile she put on for every client who walked into AG&W.
Bridget started strategically going through the racks one by one. Emma picked up a blouse at random and looked at the price tag. It wasn’t cheap. But she could afford it now. She ran her hands over the delicate chiffon. There were some really nice clothes here.
“What do you think of this?” Bridget held up a dark red dress. It was about knee-length and extremely form-fitting. “It would be great for work.”
“It’s cute,” Emma replied. “You should try it on.”
Bridget rolled her eyes. “It’s for you. Do you really think I can wear this color without looking washed out? It’s perfect for your complexion.” Bridget thrust it at Emma.
“I can’t pull off something like that.”
“Why not? You’ve got the figure for it. You should flaunt it more often.”
Emma eyed it warily. It wasn’t her usual style. But there was no harm in trying it on. “Okay.”
They went around the store, Bridget grabbing items for herself and foisting others upon Emma. She was starting to feel like Bridget was using her as a dress-up doll. When clothing in their arms started to pile up, the saleswoman came over to help them.
Finally, they made their way to the luxurious dressing rooms. The first thing Emma tried on was the red dress. She had just done up the zipper when Bridget called out to her from next door.
“Well? Are you going to show me what you’ve got on?” Bridget asked.
“Sure.” Emma slid back the curtain and stepped out of the dressing room.
Bridget was wearing a skintight sheath dress. It was very Bridget. Before Emma could comment on it, Bridget squealed. “Oh my god, you look amazing!” Bridget pulled Emma over to stand in front of the full-length mirror. “I told you it would suit you. You have to get it.”
Emma turned before the mirror. The dress was as form-fitting as she had thought, but not in a skimpy way. It had a wide waistband with a small red bow at the front. Emma liked it. Her style was usually more on the pretty, girly side, mostly because she hadn’t even thought about her wardrobe since she was a teenager. But this was the perfect mix of cute and professional.
“You’re getting it, right?” Bridget asked.
Emma smiled. “Definitely.”
They tried on the huge collection of clothes they had selected. Bridget bought almost everything she tried, which explained why the saleswoman had greeted them so warmly. Emma settled on a few pieces, including the dress. After they finished their purchases, Bridget dragged Emma to another store a few doors down.
They repeated this process over and over until Emma’s feet ached. They stopped in another cafe to rest, dumping all their shopping bags at their feet. Emma basically had a whole new work wardrobe. It was much more stylish than her old one. She was glad she’d let Bridget talk her into it. She’d drew the line at heels, to Bridget’s dismay. Emma didn’t mind heels, but she wasn’t going to wear them every day at work since she was constantly on her feet going back and forth between her desk and Lillian’s office. But she bought some shiny, pointy-toed black flats, as well as a nice black dress that Emma had no occasion to wear it to, which was probably a good thing because it was far more revealing than anything she owned.
“I’m all shopped out,” Emma said. “I can’t take another step.”
“Why do you think I left the pedicures for last?” Bridget said. “Think you can make it to the salon?”
A foot spa and massage sounded good to Emma. “I think I’ll manage.”
As the two of them left the cafe, Emma couldn’t help but wonder what Lillian would think of her new look.
13
Emma
Emma walked into the office on Monday with a spring in her step. She was wearing the red dress she had bought on the weekend and her new flats, and she’d put in a little bit of effort with her hair and makeup. It was nothing over the top, but her stylish dress seemed to call for something more than her usual last-minute look.
Emma greeted Bridget as she passed the reception desk.
“Wow,” Bridget said. “You look amazing. I told you that dress was perfect for you.”
Emma smiled. “Thanks, Bridget.” She made her way to her desk, dropped off her things, and went to report to Lillian.
“Good morning, Lillian,” Emma said, placing Lillian’s coffee on her desk.
Lillian glanced at Emma, then ran her eyes up and down Emma’s body, an indecipherable expression on her face.
“What is it?”
“What are you wearing?” Lillian asked.
Emma tugged her dress down self-consciously. “You don’t like it?”
“Oh, I like it.” Lillian leaned back in her chair, stripping Emma with her gaze. “I just don’t know how I’m going to be able to get any work done with you walking around like that.”
Somewhere inside Emma, longing flickered to life. The two of them hadn’t even touched since that day they spoke about keeping things between them a secret. With Lillian’s class-action suit, she was being run off her feet. And she had been passing on more responsibility to Emma. Lillian delegated most of the work to a handful of paralegals and junior associates that she deemed “not entirely useless,” and she left it to Emma to act as a go-between and keep track of what everyone was working on. So, Lillian and Emma hadn’t had the time to do anything other than work.
Apparently, Lillian was thinking the same thing. “I’ve found somewhere for us to sneak away to, so we can spend a little time together today.”
“Where are we going?” Emma asked.
“You’ll find out soon. For now, we should get to work.”
The rest of the morning passed as usual. Emma tried not to get too distracted by the prospect of escaping the office with Lillian. She wondered what Lillian’s definition of “taking things slow” meant. Did she mean in the physical sense? Emma certainly hoped not. Besides, that ship had already sailed.
Around midday, Lillian appeared in front of Emma’s desk. “I’m going out to lunch. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes.”
“Okay,” Emma replied. Lillian rarely went out for lunch unless it was for a business meeting.
Lillian handed Emma a file. “I need you to look
over these immediately.”
For a fraction of a second, Emma caught something of a suggestion in Lillian’s eyes. Then Lillian turned and disappeared toward the exit.
Emma opened the folder. Sure enough, there was a sticky note on top of the stack of paper inside.
Meet me on the 41st floor in 10 minutes. Suite 223. Try to be discreet.
The forty-first floor? That was the floor beneath theirs. Emma had never been down there. For the next ten minutes, Emma sat at her desk, filled with nervous excitement. She didn’t even bother trying to get any work done.
As soon as ten minutes passed, she grabbed her coat and purse and left as if she were going to lunch. She hopped in the elevator, which was thankfully empty, and caught it down to the floor below.
The entire floor seemed to be made up entirely of vacant offices, some midway through renovations. There wasn’t another soul in sight. Suite 223. She walked down a hall and around a corner, scanning the numbers next to the doors.
There. Emma turned the handle on the door marked 223. It was unlocked, but when she opened the door Lillian was nowhere to be found. It was empty, save for various items of furniture pushed against the walls, all covered in plastic sheets. Emma wandered over to a worn-out couch and lifted the sheet covering it, creating a cloud of dust. Once it settled, she sat down and waited.
Less than a minute later, Lillian entered the room, a paper bag in her hand and coffee in the other. “Emma. I brought us lunch.”
“Thanks,” Emma said. The fact that Lillian hadn’t pounced on Emma the minute she walked through the door suggested she was serious about “taking things slow.”
Lillian dragged a small table over to the couch, set the food on top of it, and sat down next to Emma. “We only have thirty minutes.” Lillian set a thirty-minute timer her phone and placed it to the side on the table.
The timer seemed to be counting down much too fast. Lillian unpacked the paper bag, laying out an assortment of sandwiches and salads from the gourmet deli across the street.
