“And here I was expecting the worst,” she admits, offering me a genuine smile before sweeping her sobering eyes over thepaperwork on my desk. “We’ll move on, then. I wanted to get an update on the Ford guardianship case.”
The topic change is more than welcome, and I hop right in, letting Spencer and his ridiculousness drift into the ether.
“The hearing went well. We secured randomized testing, and the judge was receptive to my arguments.”
She tips her chin and takes a few steps toward my desk. A pale pink nail taps at the latest report on top of the stack. “I read your affidavit. It was concise and thorough. You didn’t waste a single sentence.”
Something heavy and warm settles on my chest as her praise registers. From anyone else, I would have shrugged it off, but from her? Yeah, it means a lot more.
“Thank you, Rowena.”
“Come on a walk with me. My caffeine levels are dangerously low, and the coffee down here is stronger than upstairs.”
I don’t hesitate. We move quickly out of the office, and I eye my assistant as we pass.
“Don’t let anyone in while I’m gone. Especially Satan’s spawn.”
She grins and nods. “Of course.”
Rowena nudges my arm. I glance over at her, finding her trying not to laugh. “If Victor hears you refer to him as Satan, you’re going to need me to act as your real attorney.”
“He wouldn’t go up against you.”
“No, I suppose he wouldn’t,” she agrees easily.
We fall into a comfortable silence as we pass a cluster of paralegals. It’s bright from the tall windows rising high behind stuffy cubicles. The constant hum of printers carries through the office before we step into the break room. Rowena heads right for the half-full coffee machine.
Alone, there’s nobody to overhear her when she says, voice low and almost soft, “High-conflict cases like the one you’reworking on take more from us than they give back. Which I assume you already know.”
“They do,” I agree, watching her steal a simple white mug from the cabinet.
“You’ve always carried the weight of these cases heavier than most do.”
I almost flinch. “I’m . . . working on that.”
“You don’t need to work on it.” She pours the mug almost to the top rim. “You need to focus on it and hone it into a weapon. That sensitivity has always been what’s made you so exceptional, Aubrey. It only becomes a weakness when you pretend it isn’t there.”
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I stare in silence, unable to form a proper response. Rowena doesn’t say another word as she takes a sip of her black coffee and hums. When her eyes rise and find me again, they feel weighted, heavy with a sense of knowledge that I want to dive into and soak up.
“That’s the thing most lawyers never learn. Stoicism is overrated. Emotion? That’s where the power lies. Don’t for a second think that you need to be made of stone to succeed in this world.”
I clear my throat and follow her out of the break room. “Thank you.”
It doesn’t feel like enough. It never has.
“Don’t overthink it. I don’t say things I don’t mean.” She takes another sip of her coffee before eyeing the elevator. “If you need anything, you know where I am. Eventually, you’ll need to get familiar with taking the elevator up a level.”
I laugh softly as she steps through the opening doors. My mentor, and maybe even friend, turns back to face me and steels her expression. And just like that, she slips on a mask and prepares to step back into the lion’s den.
Before the doors close completely, she says, “You’ve laid the trap well, Aubrey. Now, you just need to wait for Kevin to fall into it.”
There’s no time to respond before she’s out of view and the elevator is rising. Her words follow me back to my office and to my desk. I sit and pull my phone from where I buried it in paperwork. The text on the screen has her advice poofing into thin air.
Future Hall Of Famer: Oh, I’ve been jealous. You’ve just never paid attention.
19
We’re onlya month into the season, but I’m already exhausted.
