Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
I wanted to explain that I needed her to work late for professional purposes only, but I had no intention of making a dishonest statement.
“Yes, si—”
My sharp gaze narrowed.
She licked her lips. “Yes, Mr. Astrid,” she said with another nod before returning to her desk.
Dammit. Again there was a stab of disappointment.
I hated how much I wanted to hear her call me sir again, preferably while on her knees waiting for my punishment or praise.
I watched her through the doorway for a moment, taking a sip of her coffee, then refocusing on her work and moving through it at lightning speed. Skimming pages, adhering sticky notes, and annotating on a legal pad.
It was impressive. I wasn’t aware new paralegals knew how to work old school without a computer to assist with legal research.
Old school slowed us down, but it also protected the files.
I didn’t trust everyone in this office, so she would be the only paralegal on a case that called for at least five. Really, I should have had ten working around the clock to speed up the research, since we were tackling this case without the benefit of digital files and online search functions. I just didn’t know who else I could trust with this case.
When I committed to it, I also committed to doing a lot of the grunt work myself, and that couldn’t change just because I wanted to bend Ms. Carmichael over my desk.
“Harrison, your mother is on line one.” I jumped at Cynthia’s voice coming over the intercom system. “She says it will be quick, and if I didn’t patch her through, she was just going to show up… again.”
There was nothing more effective at killing my sex drive than hearing my banshee of a mother was on the line.
I answered the phone with one last look at Ms. Carmichael, her head down and pen going a million miles an hour over her yellow legal pad.
“You have three minutes then I have to go to a meeting,” I lied.
“Harrison, darling, you should be kinder to your mother. I told you not to let the world know about the unfortunate circumstance of your birth—”
“You cheating on your husband with a man who didn’t love you isn’t an ‘unfortunate circumstance,’” I said, annoyed.
“Yes, well, be that as it may, you should have never told anyone about it and let it damage your reputation. But it’s okay. I am going to fix it. I have the perfect solution that will wipe the entire slate clean.”
“Good, do it.” I hung up the phone and then got on the intercom with Cynthia, letting her know if my mother called back, I was in a meeting.
I then got to work myself. The stack I’d handed Ms. Carmichael was a little less than half of what needed to be done today.
I worked through lunch, as did Ms. Carmichael.
Cynthia put sandwiches on both of our desks, but neither of us touched them. At about five o’clock, Cynthia came in to tell me she was leaving and to remind me that starting Monday, she was off the next two weeks for appointments.
“Atlantic City with your sister is not a doctor’s appointment,” I pointed out, not looking up from the stack of folders.
“I didn’t say it was a doctor’s appointment.” She scoffed. “Anyway, I have the coffee orders placed with the delivery service. They should be here each day at eight a.m. and again at three p.m.”
“Perfect.” I sat back in my leather chair. “How am I going to survive without you while you’re gone?”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Your main phone line will be forwarded so calls will be handled. You have very few meetings for the next two weeks. Your calendar has essentially been cleared for this mystery case. I’m useless to you for a while.”
“Never,” I said, meaning it.
“Don’t work the new girl too hard, Harrison. I like her, and I would like to keep one around for a bit.”
Certain my devoted secretary and I had very different definitions of working the new girl too hard, I only nodded as I told her to enjoy her vacation.
At about seven, Ms. Carmichael knocked on my door.
“Yes?” I asked without looking up.
“I’ve finished all those files, and the cleaning crew is giving me dirty looks.”
I nodded. They were used to me being here late but liked the bullpen empty so they could dust and vacuum all the cubicles at once.
“I have another stack for you. You can work in here or go home if you aren’t able to keep working tonight.”
“No, I can keep going.” Her words were tense as her arms crossed over her chest.
“I wasn’t trying to offend you, Ms. Carmichael. You can go home and pick this up tomorrow.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather get more done tonight.”