“It’s Maren,” I corrected, calling on my dwindling patience.
“Hm? Could’ve fooled me,” she muttered under her breath. “Next?” she called over my shoulder, signaling that she was finished with me and my desperate demands to board a plane that would take me to the West Coast in time for the hearing at three o’clock that afternoon.
“Never schedule a flight on the date of the court day,”Liam, my colleague and fiancé often said.
And I usually didn’t. But with a meeting in New York yesterday, then a hearing in Los Angeles today, I didn’t have much choice this time. I thought I could manage it, and I would’ve, had this freaking storm not wreaked havoc across the continent last night.
My desperation gave way to helplessness, which brought anger in turn. I speared my fingers through my hair, then jerked my hand away, realizing I was messing up my sleek, blonde bob.
“Fine.” I grabbed my phone, hiked up my chin, and marched away, firmly planting my stiletto pumps into the cheap airport carpet while rolling my carry-on behind me.
“Always remember, you’re Maren Cordelia Blackwell. And Blackwells never give up,”my father loved to say.
I didn’t give up. All my life, I’d been working hard, always aiming for more than I was given.
Our family status and connections might’ve helped me to get into one of the best law schools in the world, but I graduatedmagna cum laudethrough my own hard work and determination.
My father might’ve said a word to an important person for me to get the job in one of the most prestigious law firms in New York, but I fought tooth and nail for my reputation. As the only female lawyer in the firm, I constantly had to prove myself just to be taken seriously in that cesspit of sexism and misogyny.
Liam was a year younger than me, but he had already made junior partner last year, even as I’d had far more success in the courtroom. He would routinely get clients assigned to him, while I often had to network and bargain for every case.
But I did not give up. Not now, not ever.
Today, however, I wasn’t sure how to succeed. How was I supposed to get a commercial jet up in the air when most flights had been grounded and delayed since last night?
I checked my phone for the weather update. The storm had eased, but the flight schedule will take many hours to catch up, and I couldn’t wait that long.
“Hey, babe,”the text from Liam came.“How is it looking out there? Do you think you’ll make it to the hearing on time?”
It was only three o’clock in the morning in LA, but Liam was awake, probably worrying that I wouldn’t show up. Or worrying that Iwould? If I made it, he’d lose the chance to take over the hearing and possibly the case too.
Just because I’d been dating Liam since college didn’t mean he would give me any leniency. And if he tried, I wouldn’t take it.
There were many reasons why I had eventually allowed Liam to put the ring with a giant diamond on my finger. My parents approved of him. He came from the right walks of life and was heading in the appropriate direction in his future. Our life goals aligned. But most importantly, Liam challenged me. He kept me on my toes by urging, nudging, and stoking my ambitions. Competition was a huge part of our relationship. No one got far in life by slacking.
“I’ll make it happen,”I typed determinedly.
“That’s my girl.”His reply came, and I could easily imagine a proud smile on his face when he sent it.
I glanced back at the ticket agent behind the counter. The poor woman was swamped by stranded passengers trying to reschedule their flights. She was in for a hell of a day. Compassion tugged at my heart, and my anger at her for calling me Karen dissipated. I’d been called far worse by potentially far more dangerous people, anyway.
“Hard-nosed bitch,” “stubborn cow,” “fucking cunt,” and my all-time favorite “that nasty female lawyer.” The words usually came hissed through clenched teeth or hurled cowardly from a crowd by witnesses, victims, and prosecutors alike. My skin should’ve grown thicker by now. But after five years of practice, the insults still stung. What I had mastered, however, was the ability not to show any pain inflicted by them. With my chin up and my gaze firm, I accepted all those hurtful labels as awards for my victories in the courtroom.
Staying at the airport made little sense now. The soonest available flight would bring me to LA late in the evening, way past the hearing time.
It was just after six o’clock in the morning here. The time difference between New York and LA gave me three more hours, which meant I still had some time to find a solution that didn’t involve a regular commercial flight.
I scrolled to my assistant’s name in the contacts. The office was still closed, but Aisha was well used to putting out fires at any time of day or night.
“Brooks and Sons—” Aisha started in a sleepy voice, but I cut her off.
“It’s me, Maren. I’m stuck in New York due to the weather.”
“Is it that bad?” Aisha asked sympathetically.
“Bad enough to keep me grounded.” Grabbing the handle of my carry-on, I wheeled it through the waiting area toward the exit from the terminal. “There’s no commercial flight that would get me there on time. Can you see if a charter has anything for me?”
“Will do.”
