Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 874(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
From there it’s pure chaos but the good kind. Everyone wants to talk about the arrest and the press conference and there is not a moment to breathe, most certainly not a moment to think about the birth control pill I don’t have to start for another four days.
There’s no celebration and not because we don’t want to, but the rest of the day is pure insanity that just never lets up and Reese ends up with a client emergency. The closest to celebration Cole and I get is falling into bed together and actually sleeping.
The next two mornings, I’m suffocated by security and we’re on to Wednesday in a blink of an eye, but the press is finally slowing down, the picketers long gone. Finally, we agree that Thursday will be Savage’s last day. Freedom exists and we’re even going to Cat and Reese’s for a celebration Thursday night, and just in time. I have to start back on my pill tomorrow morning.
It’s mid-afternoon, and I’ve just walked into Cole’s office to review a stack of the associates’ cases with him when Ashley buzzes in. “I have the CEO of Carlson Wright on the line. He’s in jail accused of murder. He says he was set up by his partner, and he needs urgent assistance.”
“Tell him to find another attorney,” Cole says. “I’m not him.”
“What?” I gasp at the same moment as Ashley.
“This is huge,” Ashley says.
“Why wouldn’t you at least talk to him?” I demand, forgetting Ashley is on the line and setting the files in my arms on the desk.
He looks up at me, not even bothering to stand, his eyes narrowing sharply, and he’s pissed, really pissed, and I don’t know if it’s the challenge behind a closed door or what exactly. He just is and I am.
“We do not want this case,” he says to me and refocuses on the call. “Tell him now, Ashley,” he orders, “and let the man make appropriate arrangements.”
“I’ll tell him,” she says, disappointment and confusion in her voice.
I cross to the door and shut it, walking back to his desk and pressing my hands on top to lean toward him. “Why did you just turn down that case?” I demand, but I already know. It’s me. He turned it down to ensure I don’t end up in the line of fire again. His demons are alive and well, in fact, they are prospering and winning.
“We do not need another high-profile press nightmare right now to create chaos for the firm.”
“What about helping an innocent man?” I challenge.
“We don’t know that he’s innocent,” he argues.
“Because you won’t even talk to him,” I counter.
“No. I won’t.”
“Explain, Cole.”
His jaw sets hard. “I just did.”
“In other words, when you were training me, you’d give facts and reasons, but now that I’m your wife, I just need to get it.”
“Wife and employee need to understand that I’ve made this decision. It’s done.”
I push off the desk and start walking. By the time I’m at the door, his hand is on the wooden surface by my head, that spicy perfect scent of him, all dominance and man, teasing my nostrils. But I don’t want him to be dominant right now. I want him to be smart. My chin lowers to my chest, my anger, and his now too, palpable. “I will make the decision I need to make to protect you.”
I explode on that and whirl around to face him. “To protect me? So, should we both retire? Surely you should break up the partnership with Reese because you won’t be able to bill what you need to bill to do your part. How much money did you just walk away from? For him and for the employees of this firm who want to grow, learn, and earn?” I grab his lapels. “How much, Cole?”
“We’re on the heels of living hell.”
“We’re on the heels of a huge win. We’re going to see Cat and Reese to celebrate. We’re married. We’re happy. This is not hell.”
He cups my face. “I will not—”
“I resign,” I say. “I quit, Cole. This is my two-week notice. I’ll go to HR and make it official.”
“What?” He releases me and presses his hands on the door on either side of me, his arm caging me in. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“This is your career. You love your career. You love what you do and when you stop doing it for me, you will wake up one day and hate me and us.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Exactly. Because I’m going to go to work with someone else. I’m going to give you space to be you again and then we can help each other, but—”
“No,” he says, his tone absolute. “We like working together. We’re good together and I never thought I’d say that about anyone. I never thought I’d want to partner with anyone. You aren’t leaving. Not when I know it’s not what you really want.”