Page 127 of Masters of Control

He liked her even less than Donaldson Senior did, or at least wasn’t as good at hiding his condescension.

“What’s this I hear about you not giving Nicholas your best efforts?”

The accusatory note in his voice put her back up immediately. Rather than answering him immediately, she finished typing out the sentence in the brief she was working on before looking up and folding her hands in front of her on her desk.

“I don’t know,” she said evenly, meeting his gaze with every evidence of calm serenity. It always pissed him off more when she remained calm, no matter how he acted, and she was petty enough to keep her emotions under control for that reason alone. “I have no idea what Mr. Alexander told you, though I can tell you that I don’t appreciate being presumed in the wrong when you haven’t asked me anything about my discussion with him.”

Junior glared at her before covering his expression and sauntering in, looking down his long nose at her. Rather than sitting down, he stood just behind the chairs on the other side of her desk, looming instead of putting himself on an equal level with her.

“Well, Camille, Mr. Alexander is very upset with the service he’s receiving from you. Please, tell me how your discussion with him went, from your side.” Derision dripped from his voice, making it clear he didn’t think she had a single defense.

Little prick.

“Mr. Alexander wants meetings that include his wife, which is not something I am capable of providing him when she has no interest in attending any meetings with him. Her lawyer has been very clear that she will not be present and that he’s been authorized to handle all the negotiations. The fact she’s still willing to negotiate, when she has proof of him cheating, is a miracle and frankly, one that Mr. Alexander needs to appreciate more. However, I don’t think his interest is in saving himself money. It’s in torturing his wife by dragging the proceedings out.” She raised an eyebrow at Junior, pretty sure he was aware of this.

He flushed, his gaze darting away. Yup. Guilty.

Clearing his throat, he reached up to adjust his tie.

“Be that as it may, it’s our job to procure satisfactory results for our clients—” he started to say, but Camille cut him off.

“It’s our job to procure satisfactory divorces,” she corrected him. “As I said, Mr. Alexander is lucky his wife is willing to have her lawyer talk to us at all. She could easily insist on going straight to court, and she’d probably get everything, or almost everything, that’s on the table. However, if you think I’m doing a poor job, I’m happy to hand over the negotiations to you. Despite the benefit of Mr. Alexander’s billable hours, I’m not a miracle worker, and if he’s not satisfied with my work, perhaps he would be happier if you handled things.”

As she expected, Junior started to bluster. He knew it was a losing proposition as well as she did, and he didn’t want to touch it with a ten-foot pole. Asshole.

“Just, do your best to make him happy,” he finally said after what seemed like a whole minute of sputtering. Lifting his chin, he turned on his heel and hurried out the door, though he didn’t slam it behind him the way Mr. Alexander had.

Whatever. At least they were both out of her hair now. Camille considered that a win.

Freddy

“You know there’s no way Brittany is coming to any of the meetings, right?” Freddy asked. He hadn’t been able to keep himself from calling Camille after he’d gotten home from work—officially off the clock—under the pretext of talking about the Alexanders.

Really, he just wanted to hear her voice, but it was a good excuse. And it gave him something to do while he heated up his dinner. Frozen chicken noodle soup. Yum. He had a tendency to make things in large batches to heat up later. Cooking for one was rather tedious.

Camille snorted.

“That was my cover-my-ass email, thanks to Mr. Alexander making a complete ass out of himself today. It’s not that he doesn’t care about the money, he does, but he cares way more that she’s leaving him. I get the feeling if he’d been the one to initiate the proceedings, he wouldn’t be bothering with any of this.”

The sheer exasperation in her voice set off all his subbie instincts. This conversation would be so much better in person, preferably on the couch with her feet on his lap so he could massage them. If only.

“All Brittany wants is for him to leave her alone.” Freddy shook his head. “I’m pretty sure she’s planning on moving as soon as she can to make sure she never runs into him again.”

“That’s probably smart. Her being the one to leave him has been a hit to his pride or his ego or whatever, and that’s never good with an entitled jerk.”

She sounded incredibly tired, and Freddy’s fingers itched. He wanted to be able to help.

“I tried to offload him on one of the partners today when he came in to chew me out for not keeping Mr. Alexander happy, but no go. It was worth a shot. I seriously need a new job.”

Freddy facepalmed.

“Actually, I forgot to tell you⁠—”

“Not at your firm,” she interrupted him. If her voice had been anything but teasing, that might have hurt, but as it was, he could tell there was no malice in her words. “I don’t want to mix a new relationship with a new job. But if you hear of any openings anywhere else…”

His heart was buoyed that she’d referred to them as a ‘new relationship.’ He was incredibly pleased to be able to give her a lead.

“Actually, one of my firm’s partners mentioned to me that she has a friend who asked her to keep an ear out for promising, experienced lawyers who might be interested in making a change. I’m not sure what firm her friend works at, but I can find out.”