“Easier said than done. She’s a closed book.”
“Then keep trying to crack it open,” Mack said.
“And don’t give up,” Malcolm added. “I suspect she’s used to people who do.”
* * *
? ? ?
Just before noon, Addison poked her head in Gretchen’s office. “Got a minute?”
“Sure,” Gretchen said, swiveling in her chair. “Come in.” Addison had been unusually quiet all morning, and the tentative way she walked in, her hands nervously twisted against her stomach as she sat down, didn’t exactly ease Gretchen’s mind.
Addison glanced at the computer. “I can come back if you’re in the middle of something.”
“Okay, now I’m worried. You’re never concerned about interrupting me.”
Even Addison’s laugh was missing its normal gaiety. “True. This is just sort of embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing as in you’ve been arrested for streaking naked down Broadway, or embarrassing like—”
“We need more people.”
Gretchen crossed her legs under her desk. “More clients?”
“Ha, no.” This time, Addison’s laugh contained no joy. “We can barely keep up now.”
“So you mean we need more people working here.”
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for a while now, but I know how busy and stressed out you are, so I’ve just been biting my tongue, but I can’t anymore. I’m sorry.”
“How long is a while?”
“Since last year.”
Annoyance flared her nostrils, but Gretchen forced herself to breathe through it. “Okay. We’re going to circle back to that, but what made you decide to speak up now?”
“I’ve applied for a new job.”
Betrayal and fear mixed in her mouth to form a sour taste. “Where?”
She named a major law firm in Memphis—the kind with plush carpet and shiny elevators and zero honor. “Seriously? Addison, you would hate it there.”
Addison responded with silence.
Gretchen blinked. “Do you hate it here?”
“Not yet.”
“But you hate it enough to send out résumés, apparently.”
“I sent out résumés because I know you’re considering that job in D.C.”
“I’m not considering that job.” Gretchen rolled her lips in and out. “What can I do to get you to stay?”
“Hire more help.”
“Addison, you know how tight our budget is.”
“Which I don’t understand. You’re, like, an honest-to-God heiress.”
“I don’t get anything until my parents die.”
Addison winced. “I’m sorry. I just mean, you must have money.”
“I’ve already dumped most of the money my grandfather left me into the clinic, and the rest is our emergency fund.” And it would be a cold day in Hell before she asked her parents for financial help. Any money from them would come with an I told you so tax that she would never be able to pay off. If she couldn’t make a success of her work on her own, they’d spend the rest of their lives smugly reminding her that she should have gone into the family business.
“This is an emergency,” Addison said, leaning forward. “We’re all overworked. Which we don’t mind because we believe in what we do here. But—”
“But what?”
“I didn’t seriously think about leaving until that email you sent out yesterday.”
“What email?”
“The one about working Christmas Eve.”
“I send out a weekly overview every week. I didn’t even realize which day Christmas Eve was.”
“Exactly!” Addison bit her lip, as if losing her nerve. But then she sucked in a deep breath and sat up straighter. “Unlike you, we have lives outside our work. We would like to enjoy them.”
It was the unlike you part that stiffened Gretchen’s spine. “Excuse me, but I have a life outside work too.”
Addison’s eyebrow rose so high it nearly blended into her hairline. “You didn’t even know what day Christmas Eve was.”
“It was an oversight,” Gretchen said. “And I do have a social life. I even went out with Colton again last night.”
Addison’s face went blank for a moment, but then she suddenly lit up. “Are you serious?”
Gretchen sighed. “The point is—”