Bad Boy's Honor: An MMA Bad Boy Romance (32 page)

“Ah. That would certainly be a problem. Do you want to work for the Department of Justice then? I assume that’s why you called out of the blue for a meeting? Not that it’s not great to see you of course.”    

“I’ll be honest, at this point I would take anything. I don’t mean that to sound rude or ungrateful, but it’s the truth.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Bryan said unenthusiastically, “but I don’t fancy your chances. This year’s summer intake was sorted a long time ago. They’re already reviewing resumes for the next summer.”

I sighed, but just managed to resist the urge to bang my head on the table like I did at home when frustration got the better of me. “I figured as much. Thanks anyway.”

“How’re things with your dad? Last time we spoke you said things were a little awkward.”

“They’re okay,” I replied. “He’s dating someone and he wants me to go home for the summer and meet her. That’s another reason why I want to get a job.” My phone vibrated on the table with an incoming message. “Speak of the devil.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Bryan said. “I’d better be getting back to the office anyway. I’ll keep an ear to the ground, see if anything comes up.”

“Thanks Bryan.”

Dad wanted me to call him. That meant another lecture about spending more time with him and meeting his new girlfriend. God, it felt weird to even say that. My dad was officially doing better at this whole dating thing than I was.    

I knew I should be more grateful for him. He wasn’t trying to shove a new mom in my face; he just wanted me to meet the woman who was making him happy. Losing Mom should have meant I cherished Dad even more, but all it taught me was that even those who love you unconditionally can still disappear from your life at a moment’s notice. It had been a brutal life lesson.

I picked up my phone and called Dad while I still had the energy to argue with him if need be.    

“Hey, Dad,” I said cheerfully. “What was it you wanted?”    

“Just wanted to see if you could come home next weekend?”    

“I’m still looking for a job. I can’t afford to take the weekend off from my job hunt.”

That was true enough. Applying to the big firms was the easy part, but none of them had even responded with a form rejection letter. Now I was hunting around looking for jobs with smaller firms.    

They didn’t have dedicated human resources departments and navigating their websites to figure out the application process took a lot longer than tailoring my resume and cover letter to whatever practice area they covered.

“So, if you were to get a job in, say, the next week, you would be able to come home for the weekend?”

“Well… yeah, I guess so. But I don’t even have an interview lined up at the moment, so that’s not likely.”

“I have a feeling things are going to turn around for you real soon,” Dad said, with his typical optimism.    

As far as Dad was concerned, I could do no wrong. He was also convinced that I would get a great job because “what firm wouldn’t be lucky to have you?” He didn’t know how badly I’d messed up last summer, and no matter how many times I’d told him the legal market sucked right now he wouldn’t listen.    

“If a miracle happens and I get a job then I will definitely travel home and meet this new lady friend of yours.”

I’d have to meet her at some point, but I’d rather do it when I had a decent job in place. The way Dad described her, she sounded like a successful businesswoman, and I didn’t want her looking down on me as a failure.

“I’ll see you next week then, sweetie,” Dad said confidently.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Dad.”    

“What can I say? I just have a feeling that things are going to work out.”

“Bye, Dad.”

I placed my phone back down on the table. Barely a minute passed before it vibrated again, this time with an email. I almost ignored it—assuming Dad was emailing me a job posting that he thought I was suitable for—but I hated having unread email messages. The little red circle on my email app drove me absolutely nuts.

The email wasn’t from Dad. It was from an administrator at the law firm of Arrington & Hedges.

Dear Ms. Rhodes,

Thank you for your interest in a summer associate position at Arrington & Hedges. Your resume was of interest to a number of the attorneys here, and we would therefore like to invite you to have a formal interview.

As I’m sure you can appreciate, time is of the essence, so please give me a call at the number below and we can arrange a time that is convenient for both of us.

Regards,

Melissa

I immediately called Melissa and arranged an interview for Friday afternoon. She gave me a list of the three partners I would be interviewing with and that was it. Just like that, my mood had gone from miserable to jubilant.

For once, Dad’s confidence in me hadn’t been misplaced. There was just one thing that didn’t sit right with me. I started browsing the website for Arrington & Hedges to get a better idea what areas the firm practiced in—mainly corporate law with some tax and litigation work—and then it hit me.

I’d never applied to Arrington & Hedges.

Over the last six months, I’d given my contact details out to upwards of one hundred attorneys, so it was possible I had met a lawyer from Arrington & Hedges at some point and just forgotten about it. However, a firm like that would never take a summer associate on just because I happened to meet one of their lawyers at a networking event.  

There could be no doubt about it; I had been blessed with some phenomenal good luck. Now I just had to get through the interview. Or rather
interviews
.

I’d been given twenty minute slots with three different partners at the firm, one right after the other with no time to stop and collect my thoughts between them. That was probably for the best. My thoughts were a mess of nerves, with an unhealthy dose of fear. The less time I had to think the better.

Two of the partners were corporate focused, while the third was an employment litigator. I could impress the corporate partners easily enough with my background of doing similar work last summer and the corporate law classes I took in school.  

The other partner would be harder work. I had to pretend to be interested in employment litigation so as not to appear rude, while also making it clear that I didn’t want to do that kind of work long term. Most lawyers were cool with that, but you always got the odd one who took it as a personal attack if you didn’t want to follow in their footsteps.

Arrington & Hedges’ office took up the top three floors of a large building just a block from where I’d been working last summer. There weren’t many firms that were more prestigious than Cooper & Cooper, but this was one of them. They didn’t even bother with a summer associate program, which was why I’d never formally applied there in the first place. I guess this year they were making an exception.

I smiled as I walked past the comparatively dingy building that housed Cooper & Cooper, and strolled into the Arrington & Hedges’ building, hoping against hope that Zach happened to be looking out of his office window at just that precise moment.  

I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. The job wasn’t mine yet, but I knew I had a good shot. Big firms didn’t let law students take up an hour of time from three partners unless they had a shot at a job. An hour of partner time at this place was worth nearly a thousand dollars. I was costing them money just by being there.

The receptionist greeted me with a smile and told me to take a seat. The career office at law school always hammered home the importance of leaving a good impression on everyone at the office, and that very much included the receptionists. It’s not like I’d planned to be nasty to her, but apparently some students walked into law firms with a self-important attitude, and job opportunities had been lost after bad reports from office staff. I knew a fair few students like that. In fact, most of the students I knew had that kind of attitude.  

Not all lawyers were bad. My mom had been a perfect example of that. She’d been a hot-shot partner at a law firm in New York, but she’d never let it get to her head or affect her relationship with me and Dad. She’d come home late quite a lot, but she’d always found time to put me to bed or just chill out for some mother-daughter chats when I was older.  

I’d taken her for granted, as all kids did with their parents, but now that I’d started law school I had a better idea of how difficult it had been for her. She’d been the breadwinner. Dad earned money, but not a lot. He worked hard, but a security guard’s wages didn’t go far. Mom had been the one to buy the house in upstate New York, and pay for me to got to private school.  

The reception area had recently been remodeled to have a minimalistic and modern look to it, however that was par for the course in large law firms these days. Each firm had to look the part, and expensive artwork helped justify the massive fees these places charged.  

As with Cooper & Cooper’s offices, only the reception area and meeting rooms looked glamorous. An assistant collected me and led me to the first partner’s office. Last year I’d been surprised at how low-key all the offices where, but now I knew what to expect. Office space was expensive in D.C., and there wasn’t a lot of it. You took what you could get.  

The partners earned millions a year, but the three that I met didn’t have large corner offices, and judging by the files and books piled up everywhere it looked like they could have done with the extra space.

I found the mess relaxing. It was good to know that the people interviewing me were human as well. I didn’t trust people who claimed to be busy while keeping an immaculate and tidy office. There was something highly suspicious about that. Even when I just had one project on the go at a time, I still filled out all the space I had with legal textbooks, printed out cases, and client files. At least that way no one questioned whether or not I was working.

Each of the three interviews followed a similar pattern. After some basic pleasantries, the partners had started to appear disinterested and one of them admitted that hiring a summer associate was unusual for the firm. An exception was being made just for me, and I had no idea why.

When things threatened to get awkward, I used the research I had done on my interviewers to ask them pertinent questions about recent cases they had worked on. Even though every law student did the same thing before interviews, the tactic never failed to impress, and the partners took the bait, talking about themselves until well past the twenty minutes of allocated time.

I didn’t relax until I was out of the third and final office, and heading back to reception. I felt like I was walking on air, and not some thin, worn-down carpet. Even though the offices themselves weren’t impressive to look at, I found it impossible to imagine I would be back here in a few weeks for a summer associate position. This place was too good for someone like me.

I was nearly out the door when the receptionist called me back. “Ms. Rhodes, there’s been a late addition to the interview list. You’re to meet with Mr. Foster Arrington as well.”

Arrington
? He was a named partner, so he must be important. I wouldn’t be meeting with him unless I had a decent shot at the job, but I had to make a good impression.  

“Do I have time to do some quick research?” I asked the receptionist. I figured she wouldn’t mind me being honest about why I needed the extra time, and that way I might be able to do it on the spare computer next to her instead of on my phone.

“Actually, you’re to go through straight away,” she said. “Mr. Arrington has a meeting in fifteen minutes, so it needs to be quick.” It
would
be quick if we didn’t have anything to talk about. “Just take a right and go all the way down to the end of the hall.”

“Thanks,” I said, forcing a smile. This is where everything had the potential to go dramatically wrong. Some people could just wing it in interviews and sound impressive. I was not one of those people. I needed notes—bullet points of what to say beforehand. Without them, I was just a law student sitting there like a deer in the headlights.  

No one paid any attention to the stranger wandering down the hall. Mr. Arrington’s door was closed. I pressed my ear to the door to make sure he wasn’t on a call, but I couldn’t hear anything. I knocked gently, but didn’t get a response.  

I knocked louder, but managed to sound angry and aggressive. Not quite the impression I was going for.

“Yeah,” the voice said from the other side of the door. “Come in.”

I straightened my skirt, and made sure my blouse was still tucked in. I didn’t feel as fresh as I had done before the three interviews, but I told myself that he wouldn’t notice any difference. Besides, the managing partner was a guy, he’d only notice my outfit if one of my nipples was showing.

I walked in and shut the door behind me. Mr. Arrington didn’t even bother looking up from his monitor. He didn’t need to.

I’d recognize that body anywhere. Those shoulders were unmistakable. I’d seen them every night when I closed my eyes for the last eight months.  

“It’s you,” I said, dropping all pretense as he looked up at me with those deep green eyes.  

“Hello April,” he said grinning. “How lovely to see you again.”

It’s her.

She must have tracked me down. I never gave her my name, but my photo was on the law firm website. She must have looked up every lawyer in D.C. until she found me. I had myself a stalker.

A beautiful stalker.  

A beautiful stalker who’d been the best sex I’d ever had.

April stood there in a skirt and blouse exactly as she’d done that night at the networking event eight months ago. She looked professional—like a law student dressing as an attorney—but I knew what lay underneath that blouse and skirt.

The blouse was tight enough to show the outline of her chest, but it didn’t do justice to what lie beneath. I could still picture those perfect, small—but firm—breasts in my mind as clearly as the night I had held them and sucked greedily on the teats.