“A little,” I say. “We were in trial only once, and the entire team moved into the hotel across the street from the courtroom. It was crazy.”
He makes a small, approving sound. “Good. The quickest way to get tossed here is to be a lazy fuck, and obviously you’re not that.”
I nod, frozen.
Then James leans forward, bracing his arms on the table. The move brings his shoulders toward me like he’s about to tackle. “Let’s cut to it, Ms. Williams. Why us? With your grades, you could have gone anywhere. Why Gibson Grant?”
I take a half-second to calibrate, and then nod.
“Like I was telling Mr. Gibson earlier, your firm is renowned for its defense work. You take the hardest cases. You don’t back down, even when the odds are impossible. That’s not just reputation—that’s character, and I want to learn from the best.”
Brent’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Character is tested under pressure, sweetheart. You know that, right?”
I nod.
James’s fingers drum a slow, irregular beat on the table. “You seem very… deliberate, Ms. Williams. Some might even say guarded. Is there anything you’re not telling us?”
The question is so direct it almost short-circuits me. Who even asks this during a meet and greet? But I think of my father’s face, wild-eyed behind the glass, and my mother’s warning: “Don’t ever let them see what you’re after.”
I force a laugh. “Just nerves, I guess. You’re both a little intimidating.”
James grins, pleased with himself. “That’s fair. We work hard on our intimidation game.”
Brent almost smiles, but it’s more like a grimace.
“Especially when it comes to pretty young things at the office.”
What the hell? Am I being sexually harassed on my second day? By the firm’s co-heads, no less? But a moment later, James stands, walks to the window, and looks out. “You ever think about why people do the things they do, Marnie?” The use of my first name is intentional; it lands like a warm hand on the thigh.
“All the time,” I say, because I do. Because it’s all I think about.
He turns, his face suddenly serious. “I think most people are lying, even to themselves. Especially the smart ones.”
I let that hang, unsure if he’s talking about me or just the world in general.
Brent stands as well, looming over me with that full, intimidating height, his blue eyes direct.
“We’re going to give you a shot,” he says, as though it’s already decided. “We need someone who can handle pressure and isn’t afraid of the truth, even when it’s ugly. Can you do that, Marnie?”
I swallow. “Yes. I can.”
James joins Brent at the head of the table. “Then welcome aboard,” he says, reaching out to shake my hand. “I hope you enjoy your time here.”
His grip is strong, warm, less calculated than Brent’s but more electric. He holds on for just a second too long, as if to let me know this is not the end of our conversation, just a pause. Brent follows, and this time his handshake is brief, but his eyes linger on mine. There’s a heat there that wasn’t present before.
They exchange a look over my head as I gather my things. I feel exposed, like I just got strip-searched and passed inspection.
“We’ll have Jenkins get you started on paperwork,” Brent says. “Your first assignment will be sitting in on our team strategy session tomorrow. Bring your best ideas—and your thickest skin.”
I try to leave with dignity, but my legs are made of silly putty and the carpet is more like quicksand. I keep my head high, but I can feel their eyes on me the whole way down the hall. My heart is jackhammering, and my panties are slicker than a wet puddle after a heavy rain.
As I duck into the bathroom to catch my breath, I look in the mirror and see my face flushed, my pupils huge, my hair slightly coming loose from its ponytail. I look like I just got fucked in a supply closet.
But all I did was survive a second day meet-and-greet with the handsome, dominating men who lead the firm.
Oh my god, how am I going to stick it out when I’m already jangly with nerves, and breathing hard with arousal?
Keep it together, the voice in my head whispers.You’re here for a purpose, Marnie.
