him wasn’t wrong. He really was a hilarious, upbeat person, with an appreciation for the hard work she’d done at Yale. She grinned, feeling like she couldn’t have imagined this working out any better.
She turned her eyes toward the sad, half-eaten bagel on her desk, and swept it into the trash can, shaking her head. She had no reason to empathize with Lyle’s stress eating now. Rather, she needed a long night, bent over her paperwork, creating a tough, hard-hitting strategy.
Opening her office door, she was immediately sucked into the sea of interns and other attorneys. She flung her laptop bag over her shoulder and glided out of the building into the late afternoon air. She had a job to do. And she would do it from her balcony in Capitol Hill, diligently reading every single line of his report, with a cold mimosa in her hand.
As she left the office, she texted Chelsea the good news.
“Emergency bagel wasn’t needed after all! Will tell you everything tomorrow.”
Chelsea’s reply was instantaneous. “Told you so.”
SIX
Charlotte worked deep into the night, staying out on her balcony until it got too dark to read, then moving to her dining table, poring over the paperwork, assessing Sean’s once close relationship with Evan. After several hours, when the clock had ticked to two in the morning, her notepad was nearly filled, and her brain was brimming with thoughts of Sean, of his incredibly successful company, and of his past life.
She finally collapsed onto her queen-sized bed, her sensible side telling her that if she wasn’t alert in the morning, she’d never make it to her lunch meeting with bright eyes and a clear mind. Still, she struggled with falling into sleep as her mind danced from one prospect to another. She imagined winning the case against Evan and tossing her arms around Sean, feeling the muscles along his arms and shoulders. She imagined what he smelled like close up, and it stirred her, causing her to toss back and forth. Growing up, she’d never been the romantic type. Now, she was like a girl in elementary school with a massive, soul-crushing admiration for the boy in the front row.
The following morning, Charlotte awoke at her usual time and donned her tennis shoes. She was already a mile into her run before she realized she’d left, her mind was so preoccupied with the case and the impending wrath of Katrina. She smiled to herself, just as a truck whizzed past her, nearly hitting her as she crossed the street. Charlotte cringed; she needed to focus, get it together and take one thing at a time.
She biked to work, her blond hair streaming behind her, and opted for a coffee from the corner café, rather than the sloppy black filth in the machine. She felt she deserved better, now. She straightened her posture as she exited the elevator, and nearly walked immediately into Katrina herself, who was gabbing with her intern, her red lips going a mile a minute.
“Katrina,” Charlotte said, breaking into a surprised smile. “How wonderful to see you’re doing better. I’m sorry about the food poisoning. What terrible timing.”
Katrina tilted her head, surprised to see Charlotte acting so cheerily. “Yes,” she said coolly. “It was touch and go for a moment there, but I’m perfectly fine now.”
“How rough for you,” Charlotte said, eyeing the door to her office, hoping to make a run for it. “Well. We have a morning meeting to discuss the Lawson case. I’ll see you there.”
“Sure,” Katrina said, her gaze following Charlotte as she sauntered toward her office. “I’ll see you there.”
Charlotte could sense that Katrina knew she was up to something, but there wasn’t anything in the world this woman could do to stop the track Charlotte was on. She felt the strength of mind she’d had as a college senior, about to ace her finals.
After a solid half hour of organizing her notes, Charlotte struck out toward Lyle’s office, where she would break the news like a firecracker.
Lyle and Katrina were already there, each gazing at a report together. Lyle was making notes, while Katrina twirled her curls. Neither of them spoke when Charlotte entered.
Charlotte cleared her throat, taking a seat before both of them and fanning her meticulously prepared notes out on the table in front of her. She waited.
Finally, Lyle looked up. He eyed her unhappily. “So, Charlotte. We never got a chance to chat about your meeting yesterday. I got the feeling you were avoiding the subject, and then you left the office hours before everyone else. What happened?” His voice was somber, chilled.
“Did you lose the case?” Katrina asked harshly. Her eyes danced with the pleasure of the prospect.
But Charlotte kept her cool. She crossed her legs and placed both hands in her lap, addressing them with confidence. “Actually, it went quite differently than you’d expect. Naturally, I wasn’t as prepared as I might have been, given the chance to take on the case first-hand. But after a successful first meeting, Sean has asked me to be the lead attorney on the case. And I’ve accepted.”
Charlotte wished she’d been able to take a picture of the reactions on her colleagues’ faces, to look back on and chuckle at for years to come. To the right, Katrina looked as if she’d been hit by a bus. Her face was frozen, petrified. Her eyebrows were lifted high on her forehead, and her tongue laid limp in her slightly open mouth. “I’m sorry? What happened?” she finally gasped, unable to comprehend the words.
Lyle looked at Charlotte in proud shock. He clapped his hands together, his face brightening. The applause echoed off the walls of the office, and his eyes danced. “That’s my girl!” he cried out. “Charlotte, that’s remarkable! And to think, yesterday I thought I was sending you to the wolves. When, in reality, regardless of your level of preparation, you knew precisely what to say to a client to bring him to our firm. I always knew there was something about you, Charlotte. I knew you would do great things.”
“Um, I’m sorry,” Katrina said, slicing her hand through the air. “But I had already been assigned this case. That’s kind of how things work. I’m her boss. I’m meant to handle high-profile cases. And I think that’s final.” She crossed her arms and looked at them haughtily. From her demeanor, Charlotte found it hard to imagine that she’d been so dastardly ill the previous day.
But Lyle shook his head. “Katrina, in any other circumstance, I would of course reconsider.” His voice was hesitant. Charlotte sensed that he was reminding himself, over and over again, that Katrina was the boss’ daughter. He had to be tentative. “You deserve this case, but it seems that the client has decided he’d like to work with Charlotte. And we can’t refute his wants or needs.”
“He doesn’t know what he wants,” Katrina said, frowning. She sounded like a child.
“That may be. But you know how these millionaire types can be,” Lyle said, trying to find humor in all of this, but Katrina remained as cold as ice, like a statue.
“He’s actually a billionaire,” Katrina said. “Like my father. Which means, I can handle this type of person.”
“He’s self-made,” Charlotte interrupted, her voice quiet. She hated this kind of conflict, and yearned to be back in her office, looking through the casefiles in preparation for her lunch meeting with Sean. “He’s not like the others. I think he appreciated how much we have in common.” She shrugged her shoulders, knowing the words she said were truthful.
Katrina tossed her head back, and looked like she was about to roll her eyes before thinking better of it. “Whatever.”
Lyle adjusted himself in his chair, shifting his gaze between them. “Ladies. I think we can come to a kind of agreement about all of this. Don’t you?”
Katrina exhaled sharply through her nose in what could almost be described as a snort, but Lyle carried on like he hadn’t heard.
“What if we give the client what he wants—which is Charlotte as his attorney. And then bring you, Katrina, onto the team, as well? We know your expertise will really drive this case home.” He gave her his best winning smile.
Charlotte’s heart sank. She had yearned to work on this case without Katrina; when th
e pair of them worked together on a case, Charlotte was often left with the brunt of the work.
But alas, the politics of the company would ruin her yet again.
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Katrina said, her eyes darting toward Charlotte, knowing this was a knife in the heart. “I guess I can work under you. For just one project. What could it hurt?” She winked at her, making Charlotte feel nauseous with dread. She felt the morning’s coffee churning in her stomach.
But Charlotte knew she needed to remain professional. She gave Katrina a politician’s smile and leaned forward in her chair, placing her hands over her extensive notes. “Then let’s arrange a meeting as soon as possible after my return from Lawson Technologies this afternoon. I can update you on all the intricate details of the case. Since you’ve already read the documents he’s sent over, you’ll be caught up in no time. And you can give me some insight on that ‘billionaire’ mentality you were talking about.”
Katrina’s face turned beet red. Lyle smacked his hands together once more, happy it was all settled. “All right, then. Charlotte, it seems you have some work to do. Katrina and I will remain here and handpick the rest of the team. If we put our heads together, we can win this case. Evan Greene doesn’t stand a chance.”
As Charlotte lifted herself from her seat, she caught a slight twitch in Katrina’s face at the mention of Evan Greene’s name. If possible, she’d grown even sourer. She bit her lip, looking at her hands.
“All right, team,” Charlotte said, her voice warm. “Good luck.”
She strutted from the office, head high, her mind reeling. She couldn’t believe she’d bested Katrina—at least, until Lyle had pulled the stopper out and allowed Katrina on her team. But she couldn’t be bothered. Rather, she needed to stay focused and keep her eyes on the prize that was Sean Lawson, the key to her career’s success, and her major crush.
She gazed at her reflection in the office window, the glittering ocean in the distance. She needed to halt the romantic feelings she had for Sean. She knew they were fantastical, that they were rooted in some eighteen-year-old dreamscape she’d carried with her across the country and into adulthood. But, just like many women she knew, she clung to her emotions, even while presenting a strong, calm and collected individual on the outside. It was how she survived law school. It was how she’d clambered to the top at Ellis and Associates, despite watching many men fall behind.
She grabbed her paperwork, her many folders, and stuffed them into her briefcase, remembering, suddenly, and with a little guilt, that this day was her father’s birthday. She walked toward the door, bringing her phone to her ear, and halted thoughts of Sean Lawson for a moment.
As she stepped into the blissful, summer day, she heard her father’s voice answer on the other end.
“Hey, Dad. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. What is it, now? Sixty-one?”
“I can’t believe it either,” her dad said, all the way across the country. “How’s your day, pumpkin? You working hard?”
“Sure am, Dad,” she said, smiling as she crossed the crosswalk, scurrying to the other side. “I just picked up a pretty big client. I’m moving up in the ranks.”
“That’s great, honey. Your mother and I are so proud. Do you think you’ll ever find time to come home?”
This question always punched Charlotte directly in the gut. She remembered her mad dash to Seattle after graduation, during which she’d told herself, over and over again, that she wasn’t chasing after Sean Lawson.
With the possibility of a raise and time for vacation waiting just beyond the horizon, she toyed with the thought. “I’ll probably make it home soonish,” she said, shrugging. “I think I can make it work after this case.”
“Good, honey. Well. I hear traffic all around you. I’ll let you be on your way.”
“Happy birthday, Pop, I love you” she whispered, feeling a sudden wave of sadness wash over her. “I’ll call soon.”
***
Charlotte reached the Lawson Technologies building only minutes after leaving her office, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window. The pencil skirt accentuated her toned glutes and calves, and her smile was dark, with maroon lipstick. She entered the office building and tapped confidently toward the secretary’s desk, with more spring in her step than the previous day.
Denise, the secretary, looked at her with disdain, as if to say: “Why would you bother coming back here?” Still, she stretched a fake smile over her lips and asked Charlotte to sign in.
“I have a meeting with Sean at twelve-thirty,” Charlotte said. “Could you show me to the meeting room?”
“Absolutely,” Denise said, her voice sugary and false. “I hope your journey here was pleasant.”
“Thank you, it was wonderful,” Charlotte said, perplexed that this woman had changed her tune so quickly in the previous 24 hours. Perhaps news of Charlotte’s new status in the case had spread. If Evan Greene were successful in suing Sean Lawson, perhaps some of these people would lose their jobs.
The elevator halted at the top floor, and Denise showed Charlotte toward the door at the far end of the hallway, then knocked her fist against the mahogany wood.