Page 49 of Take What Hurts

Mackenzie had battled with Anna for weeks over the financial disclosure. Two long weeks when Anna flat out refused to tell Matilda and Elliott, and then Mattias, about the personal account in her name. Weeks when Mackenzie had told Anna she couldn’t continue to represent her if she refused to disclose an account Mackenzie knew full well existed. Weeks when Anna accused Mackenzie of failing to represent her properly, until Mackenzie had, in a mild panic, sent detailed written advice that had been signed off on by her managing partner, explaining the law and the full gamut of potential consequences if Anna failed to make the disclosure. Mackenzie had also prepared a notice of withdrawal from representation. Despite the fact this matter was the motherlode for her career progression and despite how close (in theory) they were to a settlement with an offer on the table, by the time she’d spent upward of twenty billable hours simply arguing with her client, she had prayed that she’d have the opportunity to use that notice of withdrawal and be done with the whole exhausting thing.

Alas, in the face of having to try to find someone else to represent her, Anna had agreed to disclose the account. And Mattias, having taken over the file from Elliott, had, as expected, responded in kind. They had rejected Anna’s offer, had made a new offer that Anna had then rejected. Another several truly shit days of back-and-forth with Anna, and she had finally agreed to send another relatively fair offer to Matilda.

In between all the work drama, there was her mother, who had been—and there was no other word for it—spamming her phone. After Mackenzie had kicked her out of her apartment three weeks ago, Mackenzie had received no fewer than five text messages a day from her. More on Wednesday, the day of the week Mackenzie had previously made payments to her. It was like being stuck in a time loop. The messages started out as nice as her mother ever got, then grew pleading, then firm, then furious. After a week of this, Mackenzie had blocked the number simply to put a stop to the ever-increasing anxiety that rose in her body as the day went on and she had no choice but to look at her phone. Mackenzie was only grateful that she hadn’t had her mother banging down her door again. Perhaps she knew that would be a step too far.

Mackenzie huffed out a breath while she waited for Anna to finish mulling over her advice. She sat with her arms folded across her chest and appeared to be studying the ceiling.

After another minute of this, and not a minute after the silence had started to make Mackenzie want to squirm, Anna finally spoke. “It’s interesting to me that the baby butch dropped Matilda. Believe me”—she laughed—“I know how much of a pain that woman is, but when an offer like that was on the table…”

Mackenzie sighed, and a prickle of unease crept up her spine to the nape of her neck.

“Well.” Anna’s smile was one of bared teeth, like she smelled blood. “Seems strange is all.”

As directly as she could, with the way her heart had jerked into high gear and was pounding in her throat, Mackenzie spoke. “I don’t see how that is relevant to this conversation.”

Anna’s eyes were steel even as she lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug.

Mackenzie’s confidence evaporated, and she set her face, aiming for neutral and disinterested, which was difficult when, inside, every organ except her heart—which appeared to have taken it up a notch and lodged itself in her mouth—felt like it was sinking into her legs.

“Not to this conversation,” Anna said.

Fuck.

And now Mackenzie understood the purpose of this unexpected visit. Sweat prickled under her arms. “I think we sho⁠—”

Anna cut her off, eyes flashing dangerously in the low light of the afternoon. “It seemed like you and what’s her name knew each other at the settlement conference.”

Mackenzie clenched her molars together and put every effort into maintaining the mask of neutrality. She decided the truth would be best and tried for a lighthearted laugh that felt… bad in the moment. “Actually, we’d run into each other at the airport the night before but didn’t realize we were both working the matter. We were surprised to see each other.”

Anna nodded slowly, unblinking. “Ah. That must be it, then.” It didn’t ease the heaviness in Mackenzie’s stomach that had settled there. Anna stared at her, eyes loaded with conviction. That she knew something. Like Mackenzie had confirmed it.

Mackenzie’s brain chanted at her she hadn’t done anything wrong. Despite that, the glint in Anna’s gaze made her vision wobble in the fading light of the afternoon.

Finally, Anna spoke. “I want the offer formally withdrawn the minute the consideration period ends.”

She sprang up out of the chair, and Mackenzie let out a breath. “Of course. Have a good ev—” The slamming of her office door cut her off.

Mackenzie sat motionless, renewed unease sliding through her like sludge into a drain after a storm. Not to this conversation, Anna had said. What the fuck did that mean? She grimaced. She and Elliott hadn’t been careful on two occasions that she could think of: at Stevens Pass and at the ice-skating rink last week. But the likelihood of Anna having seen them either time was so low that it was nearly incomprehensible. Neither of those places were places that Anna frequented. Otherwise, any time they’d spent together had been in the safety of Elliott’s apartment. And in the last week, there hadn’t even been that, much to Mackenzie’s extreme disappointment.

And she wasn’t sure why that was. Elliott had blamed work, but Mackenzie had the irritating feeling there was more to it. Elliott hadn’t ignored her, by any means. Just hadn’t… ugh. She couldn’t even put her finger on it, but Elliott hadn’t been herself. Not the “herself” that Mackenzie thought of as hers. The Elliott that only came out with Mackenzie. It was like Elliott had turned the color down on herself, and Mackenzie couldn’t understand why. She brightened with the knowledge that Elliott was picking her up from her apartment in an hour and they were leaving for Heston. The annual Pride celebration at the pass was happening tomorrow, and Mackenzie couldn’t wait.

Still, the niggle in the back of her mind attached itself to both problems and burrowed itself in deep.

Returning to the problem at hand, she rushed out a file note of the conversation and forwarded it as an FYI to her managing partner. The heaviness settled on her chest, and it was impossible to shake. Because she was chasing this promotion—this big, important promotion that would see her reach the pinnacle of her career—and she imagined opening the box of fresh business cards with Mackenzie Williams–Partner in blazing gold print would be a moment of self-actualization and fulfillment that she had yet been unable to achieve.

But if this one file had asked any question of her, it was “At what cost?” Because it was a lot. The job, the clients… the firm that had asked her to put a hold on a relationship that she knew would make her desperately, overwhelmingly happy in favor of protecting its own reputation. It was starting to feel like too much. The bad days were starting to outweigh the good ones, and if there was ever a death sentence on a person’s relationship with their job, that was it. She frequently wondered what it would be like to stop and take a breath from it. But how could she when, increasingly, it was all too big, too fast, and too relentless?

TWENTY-SEVEN

MACKENZIE

“Are you sure it’s okay that we stay here again?” Elliott’s dark brows pulled together with worry, eyes flitting to the white siding on her childhood home as an explosion of rainbow-themed clothing threatened to spill out of the bag she had pulled through the gap between the front seats and into her lap. Obviously, they couldn’t go to a Pride event at Stevens Pass without looking like a rainbow threw up on them both.

Mackenzie loved that crease between Elliott’s brows. And so despite the periods of viscous silence that had plagued their drive—stilted and so unusual for them—Mackenzie reached up to smooth a thumb over it. But before her skin even came near Elliott’s, Elliott leaned away in her seat—almost imperceptibly—teeth showing in a stiff grimace that creased her cheeks and lined her face in a way that was foreign and uncomfortable.

A flush heated Mackenzie’s neck. Crept into her own cheeks. Settled there. The sting of rejection ached in her bones, and Mackenzie tried to ignore the little voice of warning that had piped up louder and louder in the past week.

Choosing to ignore it, she brought her eyes to Elliott, who sat with her bag clutched tightly in her hands. “Elliott, please stop worrying. Seriously, if you ask me that one more time, I’m never going to speak to you again.” She tried to inject some levity, but the silence that stretched indicated that she’d failed.