Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
I’m paralyzed by my racing thoughts. This can’t be happening. Not like this. I only joined this particular firm out of law school, even though I had other offers at higher starting salaries, because I knew the firm was the only one in Seattle used by Wayne Walters. He’s one of the world’s premiere tech inventors, a literal genius whose contributions to the world can’t be overstated. My ultimate goal has always been to work for the man’s main tech company directly. To be on the ground floor of patenting his many ideas and inventions and also get a front row seat to watch how he builds his sprawling empire. But since I also knew Mr. Walters never hires in-house attorneys until they’ve already been meticulously vetted through years of working for him on outside legal teams, the only path to my ultimate goal was to work my ass off at this firm, get myself assigned to his casework, and then do a stand-out job for him.
“Max?” Scott says. “Are you still there?”
I look at Marnie on the other side of the couch, feeling like I’m going to vomit from stress. “Uh, yes. I’m here.”
“Have you heard about Wayne’s dude ranch in Wyoming? Shelby Kramer and her family went last year. Did she tell you about it?”
Again, I look at Marnie as panic threatens. “Yes, Shelby told me about it.”
As a matter of fact, Shelby told me family camp was “mind-boggling.” Like Scott said, Wayne Walters himself doesn’t refer to his weeklong “thank you retreat” as family camp, since his invitees are welcome to attend solo or with an unrelated friend. But that’s what we all call it. Last year, my colleague, Shelby, attended with her new wife and her wife’s parents, and when she got back home, she was immediately offered partnership at the firm. Coincidence? I think not. Shelby deserved the promotion, to be clear. She’s a brilliant, hardworking, kick-ass attorney who’s impressed me many times. But given that I’d billed far more hours than Shelby last year, by a lot, and also had better results on the litigation cases I’d been assigned—none of them for Wayne Walters, unfortunately—I couldn’t help thinking Shelby had been offered our firm’s brass ring because she’d had the good fortune to spend a week rubbing elbows with our firm’s biggest client. No matter the quality of legal services I might provide, I’m always going to lose out to someone who’s been able to establish a personal relationship with the firm’s biggest client.
“Your silence is a bit unnerving, Max,” Scott says in my ear. “I don’t know if you realize what a golden opportunity this is for you. Whatever you have to do to make it to Wyoming next week and bring your lovely fiancée and her cute little daughter with you, I’d strongly advise you to do it.”
I glance at Marnie across the couch again to find her looking up at me with concern. “Uh, yes. I understand the situation perfectly.”
“Excellent. We’ll talk more when you get back to the office. We’ll need to start reassigning your present workload, so you can give family camp your full attention next week. That way, when Mr. Walters invites you to his team at the end of the week, which I fully expect him to do, you’ll be off and running on day one.”
My heart leaps. “Sounds good. Thank you so much.”
“Maxy-Milly!” a little voice shrieks. It’s Ripley, of course, careening into the living room with my mother trailing apologetically behind her.
“Ah, I hear your little one in the background,” Scott says, chuckling. “I’ll let you go.”
“Sorry,” Mom murmurs, trailing after Ripley. “I mentioned Max being here to explain why we couldn’t go into the living room right now, but my explanation only had the opposite effect than intended.”
The phone line is dead now. Scott is gone. I slump back onto the couch and toss my phone onto the coffee table, and a second later, Ripley hurls herself onto my lap, grabs both my cheeks in her tiny palms and screams, “I knew you’d take me to school today! Mommy said you wouldn’t, but I knew you would!”
I can’t deal with this shrieking child right now. I only have the bandwidth to deal with one thing. One thought. One mission. Convincing Marnie Long to come to family camp with me next week. But how? I’ve been in enough negotiations to know everyone’s got a price—something they want badly enough to do something distasteful to them. So, what does Marnie want that I could provide? Money? Or something else?
Ripley pinches my cheek. “I’m gonna show you my friends and my cubby and my sleeping mat and my art and my—”
“No, you’re not,” Marnie says. She gets up and pulls the kid off me. “Max isn’t coming to school with you, honey. I’m sorry. He only came here this morning to talk to his mommy. Gigi is Max’s mommy, remember?”