The Resignation Letter                                                      A short story

Chapter One

First Impressions

 

I approve, I thought, walking down a hall of Fox & Colletti LLP, impressed by the large canvases of original art on the walls and the soft lighting that hinted at an attempt to offset the high-strung atmosphere of a litigation firm.

Oh, an alcove.

My head swiveled quickly to the left, where a white marble statue of David sat on a sleek black lacquer table, recessed lighting above it offering the perfect setting.

Did I mention I was visual? And that I’d not long ago quit my position at Turk & Blight because I’d had enough of their adolescent, maladjusted-syndrome condescension? Men with power who think they can bed any woman they choose…

Well, I showed them. Quit with a lawsuit to boot.

Oh, and did I tell you I’m a lawyer?

Nora. Nora Watson.

It took me three months of turning down offers before I accepted the position at Fox & Colletti. Mostly because of their ruthless, intelligent handling of the civil case against one of the largest child-trafficking rings uncovered to date.

I remembered being happy to be unemployed as I watched every minute of it on the news, still in my pajamas at noon, eating popcorn and drinking Pepsi like I was at the movies.

Shameful.

To still have my PJs on at noon.

Even if Adrian Fox turned out to be a jerk, the décor and the way his lawyers had taken down the scum who’d kidnapped all those kids would make the position worth it.

Not really.

But maybe.

Victoria was escorting me to finally meet Adrian. I was surprised he hadn’t been involved in any of the interviews. John Colletti had handled the second round. The first involved me feeling like I was on the stand, being interrogated by one of the firm’s top litigators, Kaliqua Jones.

Ivy League dripped from her like she’d been born with a roadmap to success.

After the hall, we took a ramp, which I thought was odd. It opened into an area where clients who’d been accepted and finally needed to meet with the bigwigs, John and Adrian, sat. The Philadelphia skyline was the breathless view that took up the entire wall to the left of me. Two doors faced us, one on each side of the room. Gold plaques read the names of the attorneys inside the offices. Victoria knocked on Adrian’s door.

After a brief pause and the sound of commotion, a nice-sounding voice called out, “Enter.” I followed Victoria into a huge office, artwork on the wall, everything spotless and in its place except for the desk.

Files, papers askew, a coffee mug, and a glass bottle of water.

I imagined Adrian would be about John’s age. He was younger, no more than thirty-five. Being that age and John’s partner told me a ton about him already. He had to have been more than just smart. His instincts were likely scarily accurate.

I heard the door softly close behind me.

Adrian sat behind his desk. The skyline looming at his back, and his fingers steepled. I noted that. I also noted he didn’t un-steeple them until I was right at his desk, forced to lean toward him because he hadn’t stood to shake my hand.

Calm down, Nora. Don’t judge him just yet.

“Ms. Watson, good to finally meet you. Have a seat.”

“Mr. Fox,” I said in my coolest voice before looking over my shoulder and taking a seat. Black leather, my butt sinking into the firm yet oh so comfortable cushion that made my mind imitate a sigh inside my head.

“How was your commute? And did you find your assigned parking spot without any problem?”

My almost judgmental verdict toward him took a step into the shadows. He seemed genuinely interested that my morning had gone well so far. And I responded with like generosity and without a hint of where my thoughts had almost gone a second before.

“I didn’t expect to have a parking space,” I said, recalling the job offer and not seeing it listed as a perk, of which there were many. The building had a gym and we were allowed to use it for a half hour in addition to our lunch break. It sounded good, but I knew no one had time to go to the gym. Still, it was nice.

“But the commute.” I smiled warmly into his dark eyes. He was attractive. Dark eyebrows, perfectly sculpted face, wide shoulders that hinted he was in good shape. A head full of hair and eyes that would make any woman uncomfortable staring into. “Center City is brutal any time of the day. I expected it. I lived in New York for years, so Philadelphia, believe it or not, actually feels tame.”

“Yeah. I remember New York. I worked there right after graduating from Princeton.”

I chuckled. “Me too. Well, I didn’t graduate from Princeton, but I took an ambulance-chasing job there right out of college.”

He nodded, one of those suspended nods where the head rises, pauses, and then dips. “Didn’t enjoy it, if that smile is any indication,” he said, with a winning smile on his face.

 

My eyes rolled. “Personal injury litigation? I wasn’t very interested in chasing the cases, half of which were motivated by money and not real injury. I always wanted to practice civil litigation involving larger, more complex disputes. People who’d been wronged by someone or something too big for them to fight alone.”

His smile faded and he was quiet for a moment. “Up until a few years ago, I was the top partner at a personal injury law firm.”

“Oh,” I thought, wondering why that didn’t show up in my research. Damn it. “What made you switch to civil litigation?”

Adrian gave me a pointed look that meant something important. I just had no idea what. “I suppose it was the accident I was in.”

I felt the blood leave my face and creep down toward my heart like it was trying to hide from whatever vibe he was giving off. I didn’t know what to say. “That can do it,” I heard coming out of my mouth. It was automatic. I hoped it was the right thing to say.

 

 

“Would you like any water, tea or coffee?” he said, gesturing behind me before he reached for the coffee mug to the side of him.

I turned in the direction of his gesture, my mind processing my thirst and him grabbing his mug. No, he wouldn’t? I thought, heat already racing to my blood-depleted face and restoring what had fallen a few seconds ago.

“Oh, yes. Thank you.” I stood, waiting for it.

“Would you mind?” he said, lifting his mug.

“Not at all.” My lips managed a lovely curve that would’ve pleased my father. His advice of restraint always in the back of my mind whenever I was interacting with others.

“Black.” His eyes were on mine like he was trying to read me. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”

I took the mug, my fingers gripping it so hard I imagined it cracking. My grip relaxed. “Cream and sugar shouldn’t break me.”

“No cream then. And two sugars.”

I turned away, my eyes sweeping up toward the ceiling. The water bottle was in a canister. Glass, ice cold to the touch. I set it on the side of the counter, condensation dripping down the side and pooling on the dark Formica as I poured the hot coffee, adding two sugars and feeling like I was the receptionist, Victoria. Except she probably enjoyed waiting on Adrian. I thought of my old position. The jokes. The condescension. I finished preparing his coffee, grabbed my bottle and, after walking over to the desk, offered him the mug, feeling another surge of resentment as his fingers gripped the handle. He hadn’t even leaned for it. My arm was still outstretched, and the fire in my stomach threatened to burn through it.

“Where were we?” he wondered.

I couldn’t remember. My brain was stirring inside a soup of contradictory thoughts. Be calm. The asshole. Don’t judge. Who does he think he is? Take a deep breath. That will reset your emotions. I did that. My emotions reset and my memory came back online.

We talked about the logistics of the office, how everyone, if they had the time, usually went to the Irish pub on Fridays because we got off early, and we finished with discussing the biggest case the firm was working on. He didn’t give me details, just teased me with—“Make sure you’re sitting down when you open the file.”

The conversations were surprisingly engaging and all of my reservations had taken an even bigger step into the shadows.

And then...

I got up, expecting Adrian would as well. It wasn’t too much to expect us to shake hands.

He just sat there.

“Well, it was wonderful finally meeting you in person,” he said, reaching for the landline.

My arm was a microsecond from lifting. I grabbed the strap of my purse instead, said goodbye, my lips pressed firmly against my teeth as they formed a smile, and left.

 

Chapter Two

The First Crack

 

My head was exploding as I nodded goodbye to Victoria. Brain matter sliding down the inside of my skull, neurons firing like an automatic rifle. I took the elevator. The silence felt loud as it passed without the slightest sense of movement to each floor. The doors opened at the basement where the car park was located.

I was shaking my head as I strolled toward my navy-blue BMW before I remembered there were probably cameras on me. My facial expression lost its edge, and I settled for mumbling instead.

That was when I noticed the car parked beside mine. An Audi. The black RS e-tron GT performance made my heart pound; it was so gorgeous. My eyes swept up to the wall to the reserved sign. No name, just the position of the person for whom it was reserved. Adrian Fox. The luxury sedan occupying a parking space whose lines were unusually wide.

Of course.

I shook my head again, slid into my car, and opened the door as wide as possible just to see how much room was still left.

Plenty.

“No ding on your fancy Audi even remotely possible, Mr. Fox.” Part of me hoped I was caught on camera and that whoever was watching could read lips.

Traffic was stopped up along Grace Kelly Drive. The sun was setting by the time I entered the high-rise where I lived in the Art Museum area of Philadelphia. I headed straight for the bar beyond the marble lobby. The marble glowed in the colors of the sunset. Breathtaking. But I still needed a drink.

I knew I’d find Marty there.

He’d been a highly respected attorney in his day and talked me through the issues I was having in my last position. I went to him for everything. He was like a friend, father and personal attorney all in one. We had a few drinks. I left out the pet peeves, thinking I wanted to review them one more time. Part of me was yelling that two and two equals four, while my father’s advice—always be calm, never show your cards—played in the background of the math. I only shared the good stuff. It was worth it to see Marty’s eyes twinkle and hear him say how glad he was that I’d made the right choice. “You’ll change lives for people who deserve it.”

Those words almost turned every offensive thing Adrian did into ashes blowing in the wind.

I ordered dinner, played with my cat, had a glass of wine, and read a book until I fell asleep with the light on.

The following day at the office was busier than I expected. I met the other attorneys in the staff lounge as everyone made coffee, tea, or collected a water bottle or two before getting to work. Everyone seemed nice enough, but they were lawyers. Lawyers were sharks, even the ones that did pro bono. They were just sharks who every now and then didn’t bite an innocent swimmer who’d ventured out in the ocean too far.

Yes. I was a lawyer too. But I wasn’t a shark unless someone else showed their teeth first.

Victoria met me in the hall, a thick case file pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around it. She reminded me of a schoolgirl, minus the plaid skirt and knee-high socks.

The file was so heavy or her arms so skinny, she needed two hands to pass it to me. “Here you are,” she said as though she were giving me a gift. “Mr. Fox asked that you take a look at it. Just to familiarize yourself.”

It was a gift. Just my kind too. I hid the light in my eyes and controlled my voice so the excitement wouldn’t bleed through. But I was psyched. “Oh, great… Thank you, Victoria.”

Of course I wouldn’t get to work on it, I thought, actually wanting to jiggle my head and skip down the softly lit hall. Okay, not skip, but definitely, I wanted to jiggle my head.

When I closed the door to my office, I took a deep breath and rushed over to my desk to see what was inside the file.

Oh my God!

My body registered the shock like a lightning bolt.

The head of the Philadelphia Theatre Company was suing her business partner.

Oh my…Ga…!

She was accusing him of misappropriating company funds and making inappropriate sexual advances toward her seventeen-year-old son.

The business partner being sued was Colin Maxwell. He’d spent enough years publicly cultivating his reputation as a womanizer so that the second allegation nearly knocked me out of my seat. Fox & Colletti were representing Maxwell, who was countersuing Georgiana.

I stood up to pace back and forth. Every line was like reading a book on the New York Times bestseller list.

According to Maxwell, he’d discovered Georgiana was moving money around, and when he confronted her, she broke down in tears and spun a story about financial difficulties and decisions she’d made without consulting him. But by the end of the day, she’d called an attorney and accused Maxwell of the very crime he’d confronted her about. Then came the allegation about the inappropriate advances toward her son.

Philadelphia loved its art world, and Maxwell and Georgiana were its darlings.

I left to get a cup of coffee like I really needed any more adrenalin in my system, but I poured myself a mug anyway. I heard Adrian’s voice inside one of the attorneys’ offices down the hall. He laughed. It was nice. Deep. Warm. I paused in the hall hoping to hear more.

Hear more what? I don’t know. Was I having a debate with myself?

I continued down the hall, embarrassed by my own thoughts, as the attorney inside the office closed the door like whatever came next wasn’t for public consumption.

I left my door ajar. I told myself it was in case Adrian or Mr. Colletti passed by. Getting a peek at me working hard would be a better look than a closed door. Yeah. That made sense. But why was I wondering how tall Adrian was while an image of him teased behind my eyes?

I finished reading everything by noon and decided to look over the case law Craig had approved to support our defense. I’m not sure why I wanted to double-check it. Maybe I was hoping to find a few more cases to strengthen what Craig had already okay’d.

Except that’s not what happened.

 

I’d printed out Craig’s case law and popped out of my seat when the pages started spilling from the printer. I’d compared what I’d researched with what Craig was going to use to build the foundation for the case.

“Christ…” I whispered.

Someone knocked. Adrian? The voice that followed belonged to a woman.

It was Kaliqua.

“Come in,” I said, placing what had just been printed at the bottom of the file. Her eyes followed my hands.

“Are you a patron of the arts?” she asked, her smile giving no indication that she thought there was anything strange about where I placed the papers.

“I love the theater,” I answered, gesturing for her to sit as I followed suit. “I remember when Georgiana and Maxwell first became partners. I actually thought they’d become an item.”

We talked. My mind was on what had come out of the printer. One of the top attorneys’ case law research files had some serious issues. And I mean serious.

“What are your thoughts about our chances?” Kaliqua’s voice buried my concerns for a moment. She was asking my opinion. Never ask a lawyer their opinion and think you’ll get demure silence.

I shared them with her.

Maxwell hadn’t just wanted to stay on a different floor from Georgiana during their business trip to Italy. He’d changed his booking and stayed at an entirely different hotel. I wondered whether Georgiana had taken that as a personal rejection.

Kaliqua’s head angled. “Honestly, I didn’t view that as rejection either. But you have a point.”

Shit. I didn’t want to have a point. Not really. Not yet. I didn’t want my thumb on any part of the outcome. I tried to walk it back, but she was intrigued by my idea and thought it might be something used during Georgiana’s cross-examination.

I didn’t think I’d like Kaliqua after the interview, but I’d warmed to her during the conversation. She told me about the Irish pub on Fridays, just as Adrian had. This time, I committed to going.

The next morning, I stepped off the elevator, my bright hello subdued. Victoria asked me if I was okay, and I blamed it on traffic. But I had a problem.

The case law that Craig intended to rely on was still on my mind. Either he or the paralegal had used AI for their research. I hadn’t. And what Craig thought was a strong foundation for our defense turned out to be a collection of fabricated cases and citations. AI hallucinations.

I walked down the hall and passed my office. I’d tell Adrian. This was important.

I entered the reception area, his and John’s offices at its rear, the gold plaques on the doors winking in the morning sun. I cleared my head and walked up to Adrian’s door, my hand in the air prepared to knock.

I heard his voice. He was in a meeting.

I turned around. Maybe it was for the best, I thought. The last thing I wanted was to be disliked or for Craig to hold a grudge against me because I’d embarrassed him. I couldn’t ignore the faulty case law, but maybe I could find a way around exposing Craig.

After work I asked Marty about it and told him everyone was going to the Irish pub on Friday. He suggested I come up with a mild joke about the unreliability of AI, hoping Craig would catch the hint and scrap the research in favor of actual case law.

“I could do that,” I said, shaking my head and already trying to think of something to say.

“But if the files still contain the fabricated case law by noon on Monday, you go to Adrian. Capisce?”

Marty gave me a look, the one that said, this is serious. Don’t play around.

 

Adrian. I told myself that I was happy I hadn’t seen him again this week. But Monday felt like an eternity away. My stomach had fallen to my knees and hadn’t picked itself up yet. Worse, I couldn’t tell if the reason was seeing him or telling him about the case law.

 

Chapter Three

Don’t Fall for Mr. Fox

 

Kaliqua had joined us at the pub on Friday, and Mr. Colletti stayed long enough to have one beer. I kept looking toward the door, expecting Adrian to enter. Dark hair. Tall. A suit that looked like it had been melted onto his body. Square shoulders. I shook my head to make the thoughts go away.

 When Kaliqua and Colletti left, I gave up thinking he’d join us.

The five of us remained, munching on appetizers and enjoying ourselves. We talked a little about work. Adrian was well liked and respected, though no one said much about him. Whenever someone mentioned him, I got polite smiles but nothing more. Sometimes someone would order another round of beer immediately afterward.

Adrian was either extraordinarily private, or they were one discreet bunch of attorneys.

As the waitress brought over another round, it was time to tell the joke I’d recited in my head no less than fifteen times over the course of two days.

I leaned back against the chair. “You know, I think AI is a valuable tool in a lot of ways…” I took a sip of my beer. “But when it comes to researching case law, I’d trust it about as much as I’d trust buying a ten-carat diamond pendant on sale at Walmart.”

I thought someone might chime in. I knew they’d chuckled, but what I was really counting on was Craig flinching, or his eye twitching. Maybe he’d cough after taking a swig of beer or something.

Nothing. He gave me nothing. He just said, “Ha,” as his head dipped back.

 

                                                              ***

Monday came after a long weekend of trying not to think about it. I went to the gym, took a bike ride along the river, and played chess with Marty. He beat me mercilessly. I told him good friends don't whip people they love that badly. He smiled and reminded me what profession he'd been in for the last forty years.

I walked off the elevator and entered the law firm. Victoria’s usual sing-songy hello was flat. She asked how I was, but something about her expression caught my attention.

“I’m fine, Victoria. Are you okay?”

She hesitated. “I’m… I’m well. Uh, Mr. Fox asked me to let you know that your parking space is directly next to his car.”

Craig passed by. I nodded to him, distracted by what Victoria had said, but not too distracted to notice that he either hadn’t caught the meaning of my joke or had the cool-calm demeanor of someone who should’ve been working for the CIA.

“Yes.” I turned back to Victoria. “I noticed. You’re about to tell me my parking spot is a mistake.” I sniggered with a head shake. “Don’t worry. I wondered why I’d be parked next to him as well.”

“No, uh… It seems you parked over the lines designated for each vehicle.”

I felt my eyes blink. Hard. Like when you don’t want them to fall out from the shock. Those lines Victoria was referring to—a tow truck could park between Adrian’s car and mine and still have enough room to open the door.

Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but oh, my God, did Adrian really complain about my parking two inches over the line? What. A. Jerk.

“Oh my. Did I? My apologies.” My smile was warm, but the fire inside me was singeing the edges of it fast. “It won’t happen again. Thank you for letting me know.”

I turned and headed to my office. When I got inside, I paced like a madwoman, looking around for something to hold to my mouth while I screamed my lungs out. There wasn’t anything. I tore out of my coat, balled it up and smashed it against my face and screamed as loudly as I could. Three times. Until my throat was sore.

Breathless, I nearly laughed. Nora, you need to work out more if three screams from the pit of your soul take away your breath. Only a single stream of smoke from the fire inside me remained.

I plopped down and swiveled my chair to face the view of Center City. My mind raced with thoughts about quitting before the mature me stepped in, hands on her hips and a furrowed brow.

What, are you crazy? You’re not strong enough to play big? You want to go home already? Nora, Nora, Nora.

Okay, of course I don’t want to quit. They put away those beastly criminals who were hurting children. Trafficking children... The art. The low lighting that made my shoulders sink...

No, of course I want to stay.

I got up and headed to the file room to check Craig’s research now. I’d still give him until noon, but I’d look now just to see.

“Oh, there you are.” Victoria looked like herself again. Naturally. She thought I’d taken the bad news well. She had no idea my throat still burned from the screaming.

“Hi,” I said, looking over my shoulder and pulling out the file.

“Adrian would like you at this morning’s meeting with the other attorneys.”

“What?” I said, forgetting to control my voice. I sounded twelve and like someone had just told me the lead actor threw up and I had to take the stage.

She nodded. “It starts at a quarter to ten. And if that’s the Maxwell file, you can bring it along with you. I’ll tell Craig not to bother.”

 

 

Chapter Four

Be the shark, not the guppy

 

My eyes dropped to the file. I tried to swallow. Only my throat moved. Normally, I would’ve been over the moon to join the meeting with the lead attorneys on the case. But…

“Thank you, Victoria,” I said, turning back to the cabinet and praying the fabricated case law had been replaced by real cases. It was still there.

Feeling shaky, I went to the attorneys’ lounge, hoping to run into Craig. Kaliqua was there instead, making herself a cup of tea.

“I hear you’ve been invited to the meeting?” She smiled. “Want a cup?”

I nodded. Coffee would be a good choice only if my goal was to have a heart attack. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

I watched her pour the tea. “But that comment I made?”

“The one suggesting Georgiana had reason to take what happened during the Italy trip personally?”

I cringed behind my smile. “Yes… I think… I need to hear more about the case before that is mentioned. I mean, if you intended—”

“Oh, Nora, I’m sorry. I mentioned it to Adrian and John already. If I had to guess, that’s why he wanted you to join the meeting. He agreed with you.” She grinned. “And asked me why I hadn’t thought of it.”

The morning couldn’t get any worse. Really. Then I added sugar to my tea instead of honey. My brain was that rattled.

“Well… lucky me.” I blew the steam above the teacup. “The boss agrees with me.”

I returned the folder to the file cabinet, giving Craig another chance to make the correction, and went back to my office. I sat waiting for a quarter to ten like that was when I'd be taken to the firing squad.

I sipped my tea, watching the second hand as my heart pounded harder with every minute that passed. I stood up to pace, then I removed my heels and jogged in place.

Paranoia started creeping in as I imagined someone in the law firm across the street watching me through binoculars and filming it.

I closed the blinds and resumed jogging in place.

My thighs were hurting. I was winded. Yes. Burn it off, I told myself. Burn. Burn. Burn. My hands dropped to my knees at nine forty.

Now I needed to return to the file room and pray that Craig was worth his salt as a lead attorney and had removed the faulty case law.

“Nora.” One of the attorneys on his way to Adrian’s office greeted me.

“Nora.” Craig smiled. “You’ve got the file, right?”

I said hello. “Yes,” I answered Craig before another round of paranoia crept in. I didn’t actually have it. I was on my way to get it. What if he took it? Hid it? What if, when I walked into Adrian’s office, he’d blame me for losing the file?

I hurried to the file room, all that burning effort dissolving back into anxiety. I opened the file cabinet drawer and released a deep breath. It was still there.

I slipped it from the hanger and opened it.

“Fuck!” I whispered. “Craig, you fool!”

I walked down the hall, the artwork nothing more than a blur. I passed the alcove where the statue and dim lighting usually drew my attention. Nothing. Marty was in my head though. He was talking to me, and I was listening.

“Sometimes you have to be a shark, Nora. And when you do, don’t leave any survivors. Here’s why, lovey. Attorneys are argumentative by nature. It’s who they are. Don’t judge it. Just make sure you’re the predator and not the prey.”

I nodded. “I’m the shark, not the guppy,” I repeated like a mantra until I reached Adrian’s door.

I walked into Adrian’s office. The mood was jovial. Everyone had a cup of coffee or tea or a water bottle in their hand. Adrian looked over at me as soon as I entered, the smile on his face not slipping away or diminishing.

Oh, good. He wasn’t holding any grudges about me parking two inches over the line. I returned his smile. Just as easygoing as his.

“Adrian.” I nodded, hearing him greet me as I looked around for an empty seat.

No… the only seat was right next to his desk. Then I thought someone was being generous. I’m new. It was a gesture that said, “We’re all on the same side. No egos.”

I sat down. The conversations grew quiet and then stopped.

“Okay.” Adrian rubbed his hands together. “You know the case. We've got a good defense. Or had one.”

I felt the room go stiff.

“So, I got a call from Maxwell this morning that threw a wrench into things. Nora raised a question with Kaliqua, who then followed up on it. That’s why Maxwell called me this morning.”

Heat crept beneath my jacket. I adjusted it, hoping to catch some of the cool air circulating through the room. Then I willed my blood to stay clear of my face. Adrian was still talking, and the whole silent shark and guppy soliloquy dissolved.

“We have a potential weakness in our case. I’ll explain it, and then I want everyone's thoughts on how we address it.”

He looked at me, his hand out.

“Let me review the case file again.”

I lifted my hand and reached over the desk. Ten inches between us, and I expected him to make up the difference. I swear I heard a bomb ticking in the background from the other attorneys, and I lifted myself from my seat, pretending that my purse had been in the way, as I placed it on the floor before leaning over and making up for the ten inches that were too much for Mr. Perfect, with that angular face and square jaw, to make up for.

“I thought there was only one file.”

He saw the other file, the one with the case law that I’d researched. Of course I brought it with me. But I hadn’t planned on it coming out like this. God, no. Please don't—

“Is that related to the case?” He looked from the folder to me, his expression sharpening.

I licked my lips before folding them inward. Those two seconds before I answered him? The world came to an end. And a second later, the Big Bang started everything all over again.

“Sort of… yes. Something I… if it seemed appropriate.” I hoped that sounded garbled enough for him to pass over it.

He didn’t look away.

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still trained on me. “I’ll review…” He lowered his gaze to the folder he'd just opened and began reading.

I gripped the other folder in my lap, my eyes scanning the faces around me. Several attorneys leaned toward one another, talking quietly. Kaliqua was scribbling on a notepad, and Craig was scrolling through his phone, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose, looking for all the world like he was researching something important to the case.

Ten minutes passed before Adrian rubbed his hands over his face.

Not good.

“Yeah, this case law won’t help.” He reached toward me again. “Let’s see what you have.”

I stood this time and passed him the folder, my chest burning with resentment.

“Maxwell doesn’t want us to cross-examine Georgiana along the lines Kaliqua proposed to him,” Adrian continued, looking toward Kaliqua and then Craig. “He says Georgiana invited him to her hotel room for a nightcap. They were prevented from having sex because Maxwell hadn’t brought any protection with him. They argued.”

“Over what?” one of the attorneys asked.

“He’s a playboy. Of course he had protection on him. He was just being polite.”

Kaliqua and another female attorney glared at the man as though wondering whether he'd ever played that same adolescent card.

Adrian cut in, and the room fell quiet. “Georgiana didn’t believe him.”

A few chuckles sounded around the room.

“She thought he was making it up.” Adrian looked toward the male attorney who’d apparently hit the nail on the head. “But of course, there are cameras that would show him entering her hotel room.”

“They’re two adults. What’s the problem with the case?”

“Maxwell is concerned that if we question Georgiana about Italy, she'll claim he raped her.”

He opened my folder. His brows pinched together for a moment. Then he slowly raised his eyes to mine.

“Nora, these are relevant authorities.”

I almost breathed.

“But they're addressing the same issues Craig researched.”

The breath froze inside my chest.

“Why did you prepare a second set?”

Be the shark, not the guppy. I heard Marty in my ear. “Well, I’m sure the paralegal was trying to save time by using AI for the research, but when I looked it over and checked for additional case law to build on it…” I hesitated. “I found that…”

I swallowed. “It was fabricated. Those cases don’t exist.”

Adrian studied me for a moment. Then he closed the folder.

“Craig?”

He didn’t raise his voice. Somehow, that made it worse. 

 

                                                                    ***

 

The meeting stayed with me all day. And it was Monday, which meant Marty would be playing poker with his old law firm buddies until late. I was on my own, just me and my cat, Zoe.

I’d ordered chicken fettuccine and a house salad from Di’Nardo’s and was on my second glass of wine as I stood at the window of my condo, staring out at the Philadelphia skyline.

What a day.

I cringed at the memory of Craig finally admitting he’d done the research himself. No paralegal. No misunderstanding. He’d used AI, failed to verify the citations, and handed the results over as legitimate case law.

The temperature in that room had fallen to arctic levels.

Adrian hadn’t flinched an inch as he listened to Craig’s explanation. He hadn’t needed to. He was cool. But like an iceberg, I suspected there were miles of thoughts and emotions beneath the surface.

I wouldn’t want to be Craig.

But Adrian? That was another story.

The look he gave me when he ended the meeting almost made me feel like he did more than respect me. There was actually a hint of admiration in his eyes.

But men don’t demean women they admire, do they?

I wished tonight hadn’t been Marty’s poker night. But I was sure Marty would’ve agreed. Sure, men can make mistakes. No one is perfect. But a mistake is temporary. An attitude is permanent. And Adrian had an attitude issue that was as easy to spot as a face tattoo.

Then I remembered Adrian sitting behind his desk, waiting for me to place that folder in his hand. Those last ten inches. I felt fiery all over again.

“He’s a blatant, modern-day male chauvinist,” I said aloud. “It’s the last straw!”

I chugged the rest of my wine, thinking that the next time another incident happened between us, I would call him out on it.

 

Chapter Five

The Last Straw

 

Tuesday morning, I’d barely passed Victoria’s desk when she called out, “Oh, and Mr. Fox asked me to let you know he’d like to see you!”

I thanked her, but all I’d wanted that morning was a fresh start. After the tension that had accumulated over the weekend leading up to the Maxwell meeting, I was ready to put it behind me.

Instead, as I walked to my office, all I could think about was that Adrian wanted to see me because something had happened after the rest of us left. And whatever it was, it involved me.

I removed my coat and thought about making a cup of tea, but headed back out into the hall.

I heard my breath softly exhale after Adrian told me to enter, but the moment I stepped inside, my eyes went straight to his expression and body language.

Steam drifted from his coffee mug. His cell phone lay face down, Craig’s file within reach. But there was a small smile on his face.

“You look… concerned, Nora,” he said, raking a hand through his dark hair and sitting back in his chair.

“Do I? Maybe it was traffic. Especially annoying this morning,” I said, recalling that traffic had been unusually light. Maybe he didn’t know what route I took. Ugh. He probably did. I didn’t even live far from Center City. Some people in my building actually rode bikes to work.

“It can have an effect,” he said, but I could tell he was being polite. His eyes lingered on me a breath longer than usual.

His landline rang. He glanced, but didn’t answer it. Then he asked if I’d mind looking up some case law for our new strategy. I said I’d be happy to, wondering why he was being so… so nice.

His phone rang again. I waved goodbye and spun around, feeling stupid for waving as I closed the door behind me.

He trusted me to do the research for the new angle we’d settled on in the meeting. That was a compliment, I thought, noticing Craig and Cathy, another attorney at Fox & Colletti, walking toward me from the opposite direction.

My stomach tightened.

“How’s everything?” Craig asked, looking like his world hadn’t been crushed during yesterday’s meeting. He really missed his calling by not working for the CIA. His expression was perfectly calm.

“Good,” I breathed. “Still trying to get the hang of things.”

“You’ll be fine,” Cathy said, touching my arm. She looked like she meant it. “The whole office is bowling next Friday for our annual fundraiser.”

“Oh, right, I meant to tell you about that,” Craig chimed in, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you going?” Cathy asked.

I was about to say I wasn’t very good at bowling when Craig explained that it was to raise money for underprivileged kids.

“Adrian and John have pledged twenty thousand dollars to the Save Philadelphia Kids fund and made a friendly wager with Boyd & Boyd.”

“If Fox & Colletti wins, Boyd & Boyd will match their donation,” Cathy finished for Craig.

Boyd & Boyd. I’d dated an attorney who used to work there. It hadn’t ended well. Suddenly, winning the tournament sounded appealing.

“Wow, thanks for telling me. Yes. I’m all in.” I laughed, loosening some of the tension inside me. “Hopefully my bowling won’t disappoint.”

They laughed.

“Don’t worry. Craig here bowls like a pro.”

“And John’s not bad,” Craig added, the smile not reaching his eyes.

We exchanged a few more words about bowling before going our separate ways.

I researched the case law like my life depended on it. Double-checked my resources and printed everything out. After placing the documents in a folder and slipping it inside my desk drawer, I grabbed a late lunch. Afterward, I headed up the quiet, softly lit hall to Adrian’s office so he could review the research.

Adrian was on the phone when he told me to enter. I stood there as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line, the back of his chair facing me as he looked out over the city.

“Well, the tests don’t have to be perfect to be promising,” he said, reaching back to grab the edge of his desk and turn his chair around. “I’ll take what I can get and remain hopeful.”

I’d seen a few of Adrian’s expressions, but I couldn’t quite make out what this one meant.

“Goodbye, Dr. Anabi.” His chest rose and fell, but his breath came out silently. “What can I do for you?”

I handed him the folder. “The case law you asked for.”

He frowned. “That was fast. What brand of coffee do you drink?” He chuckled.

“Whatever everyone else is drinking,” I answered, watching him read the papers.

“Cathy told me about the fundraiser.”

He nodded, preoccupied. “Yes…”

“I think it’s wonderful what you and John are doing. So, you’ll be bowling too?”

He looked up from the folder. “Only by some miracle of God,” he said, and returned to his reading.

My mouth parted. I couldn’t believe what he’d said. Worse, how he’d said it. Only by some miracle of God! So, he could donate money, but not his precious time? Not even for kids—kids who could likely never afford to go to Princeton the way he did? What a royal asshole. What a…

Everything I’d wanted to say to him Monday night came rushing back.

Where would I even begin?

I took a breath, my mouth parting and then closing. No. I’d think about it again. I wanted to get it right. I wanted it to come out calmly. Not like this, while I was heated. “Well, if you have any questions…” Disgusted, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

He looked up again. “So far, this looks good. Really good.”

I know your game, Mr. Fox. Your charm doesn’t impress me anymore. “Okay, well, I’ll be in my office if you need me,” I said, and left quickly.

I marched to my office; my brain was on fire. I passed Victoria, vaguely noticing mild horror on her face at the look of me. I could barely think, and I didn’t care what she was thinking, either. This was it. I wouldn’t quit. No. I respected what the law firm stood for. Helping kids, saving the art world in Philadelphia—hopefully. But he needed to know how he came across. This was 2026. Men weren’t superior to women. No one was inherently superior to anyone.

I closed the door and stared out at the view until my emotions cooled. Then I started organizing my thoughts. I wouldn’t be insubordinate. I’d be restrained, level-headed, and cite the offenses, generously giving him an out for each one.

After I did that, I’d say:

But in case I’m not wrong, and you really do believe women are beneath you, I want you to understand something. We’re human too. And we deserve at least an ounce of respect.

I tweaked that a few times until it was crystal clear, fair, without a hole the weasel could squeeze into and bring it all down. I took a deep breath and looked out at the skyline again. There was one more thing I needed to do. Compose a resignation letter. Just in case he threatened to fire me. Ha!

Ten minutes later, resignation letter in hand, I headed up the hall. The fire inside me was contained behind an impenetrable wall. I’d let it loose later, when Marty and I were having drinks and I could finally tell him about all the indignities I’d endured. I kept my eyes down as I marched up the ramp and entered the reception room where Adrian and John’s offices were.

My heart jumped to my throat when his door opened.

I saw Adrian—rolling out of his office…in a wheelchair.

“Nora, is everything okay?”

I opened my mouth, hiding my hands and the resignation letter behind my back as nothing came out.

“Nora?”

I swallowed.

“No. Not at all. I’d just forgotten to tell you…that you can count on me—and that we’ll bring back that championship trophy for the kids.”

He gave me an easy smile. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less of you.” I watched him wheel down the hall, his strong arms turning the wheels as he disappeared around the corner.

The speech I’d rehearsed dissolving to dust, my fingers crumpling the resignation letter behind my back.

                             

                                                           The End

 

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