“Don’t be so complacent, my child. In my experience, the most unexpected blows come just when you think you’re at your happiest.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ares
“Hey, there he is! The brand-new junior partner!” Barry says with a big grin as we pass each other in the office.
A huge grin splits my face, and I high-five him on my way toward the break room to grab another coffee. “Thanks, man.”
The firm has officially announced who’s getting promoted and made the list public. It’s a longstanding tradition at Huxley & Webber. If you can’t stand open competition where everyone knows where you rank, this firm isn’t the right place for you.
Some say the firm should be renamed Sink or Swim, either jokingly or dejectedly. Either way, seeing my name on the list of associates who made junior partner is deeply satisfying. I’ve worked hard at my career to get to where I am. Although my responsibilities have shifted from initial associate-grind to actually acquiring new clients and managing existing client relationships, I have no doubt I’ll be successful. IamAres fucking Huxley.
“Congratulations, Ares,” says Aunt Jeremiah, who pours black coffee into her blood-red Huxley & Webber mug, then raises it. “You made it.”
“Thank you.”
“I wasn’t sure about your wife at first, but I’ve decided I like her. She exerts a stabilizing influence on you, which is excellent. Every man needs someone like her.”
I grin at the approval in her voice. It isn’t always easy to get a passing grade from Aunt Jeremiah. The woman embodies excellence in almost every aspect of her life, and perfection in the courtroom—and demands the same from those around her. “She’s amazing.”
“She’ll be even more amazing once she ditches Highstrung, Dickhead and Associates.” She narrows her eyes. “Tell her I said so.”
I laugh. “I will.”
I already signed the prenup agreement, and since then I haven’t had any contact with Ethan “Pain-in-the-Ass” Beckman. Hopefully Lareina has let him go. She doesn’t need him, not when she has me.
The interoffice messenger beeps.
–Bryce: Congrats, bro. You coming to happy hour to celebrate?
–Me: Thanks. I’d love to, but I’m heading home early to celebrate with my wife.
–Bryce: Nice. A private celebration!
–Me: But next time for sure.
I look at the message thread with a mix of amusement and confusion. If the promotion had happened before marrying Lareina, I would’ve definitely gone to happy hour. After all, it’s a great opportunity to network and see what’s going on. Doing good work and billing a lot are important, but so is knowing what’s happening around me and in legal circles.
But the person I want to share this joy with—on the same day I received the good news—isn’t at the firm. It’s Lareina. My wife.
I finish work half an hour early and head home. On the way, I pick up some gourmet smoked venison ham and cheese. They’ll go well with the Pétrus 2018 I’ve been saving for this occasion.
The moment I open the door, a heady aroma of basil and tomato sauce hits me. The latest song by a popular band, Axelrod, blasts from the Bluetooth speakers in the kitchen.
I stop in the entrance and just watch my wife. Her hair’s tied into a messy knot, her shirt has splatters of paint on the left shoulder—she probably forgot to change after spending hours in her studio—and drawstring pants cling to her ass in just the right way. Her face bare, with bright eyes and full lips, she looks just as beautiful as she did when she got all dolled up for the exhibition.
I want to tell her to forget the dinner and ravish her on the spot. At the same time, I feel bad about wasting her effort. Besides, today might be a significant day for her, too. Like maybe she’s finally getting her hands on her money.
She taps the edge of the boiling pot of water, staring at the phone screen. “When is he going to get here? It’s been forever since Bryce said he left the office.”
“Who are you waiting for?” I ask with a laugh.
She starts, then leaps at me with a big smile. I embrace her, enjoying the soft, feminine feel of her in my arms.
“What a welcome,” I say with a laugh. “What’s the occasion?”
She widens her eyes. “You’re askingme?”
