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The rest of this week has gone remarkably well considering on Monday I cut ties with Matt. Well, personal ties anyway. I still had to face him every day as my employer and, while slightly awkward, I was weathering the storm.
My first true test was the very next day… Tuesday, when I had to listen to Lorraine gush about her date with Matt. I got a full-blown novel on their evening together, even down to what the china pattern looked like at the fancy five-star restaurant he’d taken her to, and the fact he ordered a two-hundred dollar bottle of champagne for both of them to drink.
Asshole hadn’t even bought me a Big Mac, and I’d made him howl with pleasure. Where’s the gratitude?
Yes, I was still a little bitter, but I didn’t let it affect the way I was around Matt. There was no way I was ever going to let him know that my feelings were still hurt and that, annoyingly enough, I missed him a little.
So, whenever we had to interact at the office, I gave him my most pleasant smile, and I even made sure I answered every question he posed my way with a “Yes, sir,” or a “No, sir. ” And yes, I danced an internal dance of glee when his teeth would clench together and that jaw muscle would pop every time I did that.
Sometimes, life was all about the little pleasures.
Past those few interactions, I kept my head down and concentrated on my work. It was driving me a little batty because I had run into a few roadblocks on the Jackson case, but I was nowhere near ready to go ask Matt for help, so I dug my heels in and tried to solve my problems on my own.
The brightest part of my week was hearing from Cal. True to his word, he sent me an email Monday night and invited me to lunch on Thursday. Still smarting from Matt’s refusal to treat me even remotely like a human being with feelings, I gladly accepted and even made sure I wore a pretty dress that clung nicely to my curves. I even curled my hair.
When I walked into the office kitchen Thursday morning to get a cup of coffee, Matt was in there sitting at one of the tables and reading the paper. He glanced up when he heard me walk in, and did a double take over my appearance. For a brief moment, his lips started to curve up in an appreciative smile and I thought he might compliment me, but then one of the staff pool secretaries walked in and we started talking.
Yes, it was evil of me, but when she complimented me on how great my dress was, I couldn’t help myself when I said, “Thanks… I have a lunch date today and wanted to look nice. ”
My back was to Matt so I have no clue what his reaction was, but he immediately stood up and walked out of the kitchen.
So, back to my lunch date.
Cal is pretty awesome. We meet at a great little Cuban restaurant and spend an hour and a half just talking and laughing. He’s down to earth and completely charming. I find out he’s been practicing law for ten years but is completely dissatisfied with doing insurance defense work.
When I ask what he really wants to do, he tells me with a sheepish look, “Honestly… I’d love to do the type of work Matt does. ”
He says it with admiration, and I understand exactly how he feels. As a lawyer, Matt is someone you would want to aspire to be like.
As a lover… not so much.
“So what’s with you and Matt? He seems a little antagonistic toward you,” I ask. I don’t tell him that Matt had warned me off, because that would imply Matt had a personal reason to do so, and that is still very much a secret.
Cal’s face tightens just a bit, although he tries to give me an apologetic smile. “Actually, that’s kind of personal if you don’t mind. Matt and I have a history together, and it’s not good. ”
I reach across the table and grab his hand, because I can tell that I provoked some dark feelings. “Not a problem. Forget I even asked. In fact, let’s just agree that Matt Connover has no place being involved in our conversation. ”
Cal rewards me with smile filled with gratitude that I didn’t push the subject, and we lapse into a truly scintillating discussion about tort reform. Well, it’s actually more of a debate than a discussion, seeing as how technically Cal’s practice of law and my practice of law are on two opposite ends of the spectrum. Still, I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to be with someone that may disagree about my opinion, but still respects me enough to listen to it.
Bitterly, I remind myself that Cal is proving to be everything that Matt isn’t. Cal seems totally interested in me and wants to spend time with me outside of the bedroom. Well, I have no clue if he wants to spend time with me in the bedroom, but I’m just going to assume he does because… well, he’s a guy.
After Cal finishes paying for the bill, he looks at me with his warm brown eyes even as he tugs on the tie at his neck. A sign of pure nervousness, so I gave him an encouraging smile.
“McKayla… I was wondering if you’d go with me to the Patron’s Gala for the New York State Trial Lawyers Association next week? It’s a black tie affair… I thought it would be fun. ”
I stare at Cal and blink a few times, not quite sure what to say.
Gah, what is wrong with me?
My immediate reaction should be to say yes. Any girl would be happy to go out with someone as handsome and successful as Cal.
But my first thought is, What if Matt changes his mind and comes begging for my forgiveness?
The mere thought that I would forestall moving forward with someone that could be very good for me, all for the barest possibility that someone that was probably very bad for me might come running, causes bile to back up in my throat.
I am a pathetic mess, and I’m actually a bit ashamed of myself.
Before I can talk myself out of it or think one minute further on it, I give Cal a radiant smile and say, “I’d love to go with you. ”
By the time Friday rolls around, there is no denying it. I am going to have to break down and seek Matt’s help with the Jackson case. I’ve finished all of my research on biomechanical engineering and even interviewed three potential expert witnesses to hire.
The only problem now, is I have no clue who to hire and whether or not what they are charging is fair. Only Matt can answer that, and I need his guidance and help with this type of thing. Before I can change my mind, I send him a quick email asking for ten minutes of his time. He responds back to me immediately and tells me that he’s in the office all day, and to just come down to his office when I’m ready.
That throws me for a loop because Matt is always meticulous about planning his day out. No one can get into his office and take a minute of his time unless it’s pre-approved and scheduled ahead of time.
The mere fact that I have unfettered access to him all day puts my nerves into overdrive, and I keep putting the meeting off for one reason or another. When it gets close to six PM, I finally hitch up my britches and decide I need to get it over with. I know Matt is still here because he rarely leaves before seven. I make sure I’m armed with a bunch of “Yes, sir’s,” and “No, sir’s,” just in case I get in danger of being sucked into his hypnotic gaze or something.
I’m just about to stand from my desk when the door flies open and there stands five-foot-three of snarling, spitting, bleached blonde attorney.
Lorraine Cummings.
She walks into my office, carrying a file, and slams the door shut behind her so hard that my undergraduate degree, which is hanging on my wall, falls, causing the glass to crack down the middle.
I stare openmouthed at it for a second, and then the anger starts to rise. I turn to her to demand she pay to have it fixed, when she tears into me.
I’ve never seen Lorraine so mad before. Her face is mottled an angry red, and her eyes practically bug out of her head.
Holding the file up in her hand so I can see it, she yells, ?
??Do you know what this is?”
“A client’s file,” I say, my voice as calm as can be in the hopes that she will lower hers. I’m not too worried about any of the staff hearing us, because they all clear out right at 5:30 PM on the dot.
“Not just any f**king client’s file,” she screeches, and I resist the urge to put my fingers in my ears because damn… she sounds like a cat in heat. “This is the file for my hearing today in front of Judge Hudson that you were to prepare for me. And do you know what? The f**king Order you were supposed to draft wasn’t in there. ”
She punctuates the last words of her statement with so much anger that spittle flies out of her mouth and hits me on my arm. Geez! What is it about people spitting on me?
“Don’t you have anything to f**king say for yourself?” When I just stare at her blankly, because I know damn well the Order was there when I handed it to her this morning, her rage reaches a crescendo and she cocks her arm back, letting the file fly at me. I see it hurling toward me almost as if in slow motion, turning end over end. All the loose papers inside take flight into the air, and then it’s just an empty folder flying toward my head. I duck quickly to the left, and the folder splats harmlessly on the wall behind me.
It’s my personal belief that Lorraine’s greatest rage comes not because the Order was missing, but because she failed to peg me with the file. The minute I ducked, her anger turned to molten lava, and she lets out an almost inhuman screech.
“You’re such a f**king screw up, McKayla!”
Okay, enough is enough. Now I’m getting really pissed but before I can even open my mouth, my office door flies open so hard, that now my law degree falls off the wall and succumbs to the same fate as my undergrad degree.
I stare at it sadly, and say, “That’s just great. ”
Looking back toward the door, I see Matt Connover standing there, his face furious. He glances briefly down at my two degrees broken on the floor, and then turns back to me. He doesn’t yell, but then he doesn’t need to. He’s Matt Fucking Connover.
“What the hell is going on here?” he asks, his tone measured and calm, even though I can tell he’s bristling with anger.
“You broke my frame,” I say lamely, because I’m really not sure what else to say. I told Matt on my first day of employment that I would never bring my problems with Lorraine to him. I’m a big girl, and I can handle this.
Matt gives me an exasperated glare and turns to Lorraine. “I repeat… what is going on here? I heard yelling clear down in my office. ”
Lorraine stands there nervously, wringing her hands together. She gives me a sidelong glance to see if I’m going to spill the beans on her. I avert her gaze and start organizing the papers that flew out of the file.
Hey… look at that. I pick up a piece of paper that had fallen out of the folder and hold it up to Lorraine. “Here’s your Order. ”
Lorraine’s face blanches, and not because she just yelled at me for nothing. She’s terrified that I will tell Matt exactly what she did, even though she had no cause to yell at me like that.
The power I hold over her right now almost has a ticklish feeling.
She and I engage in a staring war, and I slowly open my mouth like I’m going to rat her out. Lorraine’s eyes plead with me and I make her wait out her sentence for just a few more seconds, then I let her off the hook.
Turning to Matt with a smile I say, “Nothing’s wrong. Just a little disagreement, but we cleared it up. Right, Lorraine?”
Lorraine lets out a huge, pent-up breath and smiles at me, although the light doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Right. No problems here. ”
Matt stares back and forth between us, and I can tell he doesn’t buy a word of what we’re saying. Finally, he sighs and says, “McKayla… let’s meet on the Jackson case so I can get out of here. I’ve got plans tonight. ”
Great.
Another pointed reminder that Matt’s plans do not revolve around me.
When we reach Matt’s office, he motions me in and then shuts the door behind us. I take a seat and wait for him to take his normal chair behind his desk. Instead, he takes the chair beside me, sitting in it with casual care and turning to look at me. The proximity is a little disconcerting and, I swear, I can actually feel a vibration between us.