揟o be fair, Gemma looks like that with everyone,?says Ben with one of his glib smiles.
揂u contraire,?I reply. 揑抦 thrilled to see you here, as it means you抮e not off getting a homeless mother evicted from a shelter somewhere.?
揟hat was an accident,?he growls.
I smile; his irritation delights me. 揌mm.?
揂nyhow,?sighs Fields, who is now fondly remembering the days when you could just call a mouthy woman a witch and have her drowned, 揳s I抳e just been discussing with Ben, a gender discrimination suit is being brought against Fiducia, one that may prove lucrative.?
I sit up a little straighter. Fiducia梐 well-known investment capital firm that gives lots of lip service to ideas about diversity and acceptance and workplace equality梚s big. They would generate press, and that抯 what I need. My long-term goal is to exclusively practice family law, but it takes a while to build a name. Walter, my favorite corporate client, is giving me enough work until that happens, but I wouldn抰 mind taking the fast track, and a newsworthy discrimination suit would provide it. Plus, if I win, it will be impossible for them to not make me partner afterward.
揗argaret Lawson, the plaintiff, is fifty-four years old and was with Fiducia for well over a decade. She was passed over for promotion nine years in a row and was let go when she complained about it.?
This case is sounding better and better. I will dance on Fields?desk and let him throw nickels at my feet to get my hands on it. I will fight Ben to the death for the chance, though that implies fighting Ben to the death is a disincentive, which it is not.
揑抎 like you and Ben to work on it together,?Arvin concludes, and my spine crumples. 揧ou抳e handled gender discrimination cases before, and Ben抯 an expert at negotiating a settlement.?
揟ogether??
Ben, Stealer of Clients and Evictor of Homeless Mothers, is no one I want to work with, and I don抰 think he抯 ever even handled this kind of case, so why the fuck should I take direction from him? He抣l obviously make me do all the work and steal every ounce of credit.
揥e抮e not being given a choice, slugger,?Ben says with a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his stupidly pretty face. He does not want to work with me any more than I do him. In the two years he抯 been here, he hasn抰 brought me in on a case even once. 揂nd it might amount to nothing, for all we know. We抳e got to talk to her first.?
He抣l undoubtedly find a way to screw me over, but it looks like I抦 not being offered the opportunity to turn it down anyway.
I stumble, shell-shocked, from Fields?office and take a glance at my feet to assure myself I抦 actually wearing the good-luck shoes.
I am. Apparently, their luck just ran out.
It抯 well after dark, and I抦 only halfway through drafting a custody agreement when Ben arrives at my office door. 揔nock knock,?he says.
I raise a brow. 揧ou realize saying knock knock is redundant when you actually knock.?
He leans against the door frame. 揑 mostly said it to annoy you.?
揧ou shouldn抰 have expended the effort.?I open a new document on my laptop. 揧ou standing there is enough to annoy me.?
He takes the seat on the other side of my desk, though I don抰 recall inviting him to sit.
揋emma厰 His voice is gravel wrapped in velvet; a voice made for giving orders you can抰 resist.
Reluctantly, I stop to look up at him.
揅an you do this? This case could be a big deal. I need to know you抮e going to bring your A game, no matter how much you hate me, or just hate men in general.?
I want to argue that I don抰 hate all men, but I don抰 think I could swear to it under oath. I hate more men than I don抰， I suppose.
揑 always bring my A game. But I抦 not telling this woman what she wants to hear, or talking her into a garbage settlement just so you can count it as a win.?
His nostrils flare. 揂nd you think I would??
I thought I could insult Ben in almost any way, but this, apparently, is his Achilles?heel. 揑抳e seen you in court. As I recall, you justify doing a whole lot simply to say you won.?
揂nd you go just as far,?he replies, his jaw tight. 揟he only difference is I抦 able to admit it.?His eyes lock unhappily with mine for a moment before he shakes his head and climbs to his feet.
When he walks out, broad shoulders tense, I sense I抳e disappointed him. He抯 acted irked by me before, but never disappointed.
I expected it to feel slightly better than it does.
4
The first time I ever set foot in a court house was for my parents?custody hearing.
The smooth, modern walls of the LA County Courthouse are a world apart from that first one, but I still think of it every time I抦 here.
When Lisa Miller, my client, goes on the stand, I think of my mother, with the shitty lawyer she could barely afford, the one who phoned in the entire case and didn抰 ask her a single pertinent question. When Lisa looks at me, I give her the same smile I wish someone had given my mom while she sat there pale and terrified. It抯 a smile that says: we抳e got this, you抮e in good hands.