Chapter Fifteen
Then
Even when he was in high school and helping me out around the house or at the office, or on one of George’s campaigns, Declan absorbed the lessons I taught him about masks. That as an attorney it was imperative to be able to look someone dead in the eyes and be stone-cold to them, when necessary.
No matter how nice a person acted, no matter how upset they were. That if you are representing someone, it’s nothing short of letting your client down and professional malpractice if you can’t bethatguy, the hard-ass, the sonofabitch, cool and calm and collected. That’s what you’re being paid for.
Not to say you can’t show empathy, or sympathy, when the time is appropriate. But chances are, in the kind of law we practice—and especially in the realm of politics—empathy and sympathy can frequently be perceived as weaknesses, not strengths.
Wisdom is where one can differentiate between those times.
But that the mask should be the default, unless you already know otherwise.
We all have masks we wear in life depending on what role we’re playing at any given time—parent, spouse, lover, friend, employee, boss, child, sibling, and so forth.
Sometimes, within those modes, we need to have different types of masks.
I have an icy mask that I’ve seen opposing counsel look downright ill over when I slip it on.
Declan developed what I dubbed as Alpha Declan. Because with me he was boy, once we started that relationship between us. Then there was everyday Declan, a mode which could straddle the professional and personal realms.
Alpha Declan owes more than a little to all the hours he watched me and George at work. With the physical stance and many of the mannerisms of George, and many of the verbal and facial tics I have.
It’s spooky in a good way to watch him slip into that mask.
Not going to lie—it makes me wet.
Declan’s first big win as lead attorney on a case had him eager to hurry to my house after work to tell me all about it. I’d attended committee meetings with George at the General Assembly that day and had missed it, unfortunately.
Maybe it’s better I wasn’t there. I wouldn’t have wanted him to be nervous with me watching.
So here is Declan, first greeting me by dropping into his greeting bow right there in the middle of my kitchen. Still dressed in his suit, blazer, tie—everything.
Fuck, is he a sexy man.
Then I have him stand and, after he makes us both drinks, he starts to tell me what happened.
I already knew he’d won because I received several calls and at least twice as many texts from others in our office eager to let me know my young protégé had kicked motherfuckingassand sent one of Tennessee’s biggest and most ruthless personal injury attorneys packing with his tail between his legs and a judgment in our client’s favor.
It was a case Declan had tried to settle for our client, a car dealer. It was a legitimate slip-and-fall that wasn’t negligence, simply an unfortunate accident. The claimant wasn’t happy with what the client’s liability insurance was willing to pay out, and the greedy fucking bastards got hold of them.
Well, Katy bar the fucking door. Once negotiations broke down and Declan seated a jury, not only did Declan wipe the floor with the damn guy—the claimant’s attorney—Declan rattled him so badly during cross examinations, when he shredded all their expert witnesses, that the judge called for a bench conference and threatened to issue a contempt motion to the other attorney for unprofessional conduct.
Declan not only won a judgment in our client’s favor, he was granted his motion for reimbursement for expenses and legal fees against the claimant.
Which, because of the dipshit way the guy practices, means his firm had to eat it. He promises his PI clients they don’t pay unless he gets a judgment in their favor.
So it was a sweet little “fuck you” to the guy.
As Declan relates the events, I can see the evil gleam in his eyes, his playfully dangerous smile, and how Alpha Declan is fully in charge in this moment.
“Fuck, you got me wet, boy,” I tell him.
He takes another sip of his drink. “Yeah?”
I smirk. “Yeah.” I lift my glass to my lips and sip as I eye him. “I like this side of you.” My hips roll as I take a few steps toward him. Today I’m wearing these sky-high pumps that fucking makes him goddamned hard, and I know it. “Declan the Alpha attorney. Running with the big dogs now. It’s a damned good look on you, boy. I amsoproud of you, you havenoidea.”
He doesn’t bother hiding it when he reaches down and adjusts himself in his slacks. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
