A groan escaped him. “Damn. Now I remember why I had no desire to be part of a firm.” Laughing eyes met mine. “All this stuff gives me hives. I’m better working alone. But I do like the benefits.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll put us together. We’re pretty opposite.”
A knowing smile tugged at the corner of Grady’s lips. “You think so?”
I wasn’t sure what to make of that remark, but I had no time to ask questions or speculate further as we were called in todinner and I was seated by another new partner from Contracts. We talked about our first jobs out of school and interesting cases we’d handled. I was feeling better about the move to the firm, and Weston and I had each managed to keep out of the other’s way—I’d barely seen him all evening. He and Grady had found a way to sit together, and as I hadn’t seen Weston fill out his test, I would lay bets he’d manage to get out of doing the exercises. From his reaction when I mentioned his father, I concluded that I’d hit a nerve and maybe the truth. People who grew up like Weston Lively were used to having a smooth path with no cracks, causing them to stumble and fall.
I filled out the test and handed it in. After the dinner was finished, most people headed to the hotel bar, but recalling what had happened last time, I chose to turn in early. On my way out, Grady waved me over, but as Weston stood by his side, I shook my head and walked toward the elevator.
The bed was surprisingly comfortable, and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. At nine the next morning, I found my way to the room where breakfast was being served, but all I needed was coffee and lots of it. I finished my second cup and felt a hand on my shoulder.
“How come you didn’t want to join us last night?” Eyes slightly red-rimmed, Grady held his own mug.
My lips twitched. “Maybe because of how you look. What time did you fall asleep?”
His eyes danced. “Who said I slept?” He knocked my shoulder. “Just kidding. But you know how it goes. These weekends away are for people to let their hair down.”
“Not me. I fell asleep at ten and woke up at eight. Best night’s sleep I’ve had in weeks.” I glanced around. “Do you know when we’re going to get the test results and see whom we’re paired upwith?” I didn’t see Weston approach and couldn’t spare a dig. “Is your partner in crime here, or did he sneak away already?”
“I don’t sneak, Fleming. I have nothing to be ashamed of.” Scorn dripped from his eyes. “Or hide.”
My stomach dove into free fall, and I turned away, pretending to be interested in the display of breakfast foods and pastries. My third cup of coffee in hand, I ignored Weston’s smirking face and addressed Grady directly. “I’m going to go wait for the test results. I’ll see you later.”
Seats were filling up, and I took a chair on the aisle. Mitch, the facilitator, iPad in hand, waited until everyone was seated. “All right, everyone. We’ve got our results. I’ll read them in no particular order, and then the two partners will meet up here and be given your materials.”
Minutes passed, and I watched people pair off, including Grady, who gave me a salute as he sauntered past to join Maryann Evens, an older woman of about sixty, wearing a strict, conservative suit. Large round glasses perched on her nose, and her silver hair was pulled into a tight bun. I’d seen her in orientation, studying every pamphlet and resource guide they’d given out. She was a real-estate attorney, and I didn’t think I’d heard her utter anything other than hello. They’d definitely chosen their partnership correctly, as the contrast between her and the tattooed, jeans-and-T-shirt-wearing Grady Allen was striking.
The two of them began chatting like old friends, but that shouldn’t surprise me—Grady had that enviable quality of making people feel comfortable. Maryann took their packet, and the two of them walked away. A swift appraisal of the room showed about ten of us left, including Weston, who sat with his legs stretched out and—unsurprisingly—was on his phone. I doubted Weston took anything seriously.
“Weston Lively.” At the sound of his name, Weston slipped the phone into his suit pocket and strolled to the front.
“Jerk,” I muttered to myself. He behaved as though he were accepting an Academy Award.
“Who’s the lucky person who gets to spend the whole day with me?”
Mitch squinted at the screen. “Brenner Fleming.”
Well, shit.
Chapter Six
Weston
Now that the teams were chosen, they’d separated us into two rooms, and we were at assigned tables. Brenner and I sat several seats apart. He hadn’t looked at me once, and I wasn’t about to be the first one to speak. Not after that nasty crack about how I’d used my father to get where I am today.
Bastard knew nothing. I hadn’t seen the man in years.
Matter of fact, only this morning, my dear old dad had emailed me with an invitation to his primary election night party, a week and a half from now. Me and his closest thousand friends. I’d deleted it.
A different facilitator, a young woman in a bright-green dress and purple-rimmed glasses, waited for everyone to finish getting settled. They’d provided coffee and pastries for us, and I made sure to take an extra-large cup. Black. The night before, Grady and I had gotten a little deep into the Grey Goose, and my head was still feeling the effects.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m Sara Lindstrom, your facilitator for the day. I hope we’re all ready for a day of exploration and trust-building. The purpose of this exercise is to allow you to open up and see the world not only from your pointof view, but from others’ as well, something we all need, I think, don’t you?”
She nodded at the murmurs of agreement. I heard a huff from the side and cut a glance at Brenner, who sat stone-faced. His usual piss-ass expression. Suddenly, I wanted to annoy the shit out of him, and I forgot about my headache.
“She’s right, don’t you think, Brenner?” I put on my most winning smile.
The full force of his withering stare pierced through me, and then he faced the front of the room again. Of course, I wouldn’t let that stop me. There was no denying—especially to myself—that I could be an annoying bastard at times, and this was going to be one of them.
