The author retains all rights to this original work of fiction.

Last Updated: 2/23/2024 to smooth out portions of the story.

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March 13th, 2:35 PM
“I’ll come by your room at 7, okay?” I nodded and opened the door of the rental to get out, but Paul reached over and caught my arm. “We good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” I smiled back at him, leaning over to give him a quick peck, and then swung my legs out of the car. I smiled as best I could again at him as I closed the door and watched him drive away.

Paul had gotten two text messages that brought our lunch date to an end quicker than I’d hoped. They both hit his phone right after I’d shared what I thought we were getting into as far as a relationship went. I had his full attention during that part of lunch, but the text messages seemed to take his attention away from our conversation about ‘us’ after I’d shared my feelings on the matter.

I’ll give him credit though; he tried valiantly to smooth the transition back to the subject at hand, but it was obvious something was up, and I could tell his wheels were turning behind his smile across the table from me. When I pressed about him being distracted, he said the first text was from Jacob, and he’d asked him to call when he was free. He didn’t offer anything more than, “I’m not sure what that is about.”

Sure, it could have been anything, but I was no less curious and wished he’d shared more about what was going on regarding the firm and whatever he was doing for Jacob. Maybe I should have pressed, but then maybe he wasn’t at liberty to say? It was too late now to overthink that one; maybe over dinner tonight I’d try to inquire subtly.

The other message he had gotten was from Tim at the bureau, and all Paul would say about that was that he needed to show him something. When I asked if it was related to Amber, he said, “No. He’s going to show me a few tricks regarding the software I was using to backup data to the cloud.”

He seemed excited about that. I just smiled in support while he rattled off some tech stuff that was way over my head, and I didn’t get or care to get it. I wish there was more substance than tech talk—like, what data are you trying to back up? Was it the Amber investigation stuff, and if so, why? Maybe it was the data from the firm?

Oh well, another lost opportunity to find out what was really going on behind the scenes. Two opportunities were missed at lunch to get clued into what he was doing. I would absolutely try to fix that over dinner.

My immediate plans, however, were to get back to my room and get checked in for my flight tomorrow morning at 7:58 AM. After that, pack, and then burn off some excess stress by going out for a run. When I get back from that, I'll shower, maybe get a nap, and then get ready for our last dinner together in Arizona.

March 13th, 3:04 PM
Done! I checked in and confirmed seat assignment for 3A, a window seat in First Class. Kendal had arranged it all, even transportation from the hotel to the airport in the morning. A car would be here at 5:45 AM – Augh! At lunch, Paul said he would take me, but I mentioned the firm had already set that up, and I think he was disappointed I didn’t try to get out of the car service in the morning. In Seattle, there would be a car waiting to get me to my apartment in Kent.

I’d be in familiar surroundings in just a little under twenty hours. Part of me was looking forward to that, but there was, of course, the ‘Paul’ factor. I was still trying to get my head around. Would we be different on our home turfs? Would things change? Of course there would be change—everything changes! What am I doing? Augh… Don’t overthink this, just pack your stuff up already!

I looked around the room and gathered up a few things I’d laid out this morning to wear until I’d decided on what I ended up wearing for the Amber interview. I hated every indecision I had with my ability to coordinate my clothing choices and wished I could just pick something out and be happy with it. I blamed HRT, and I’m positive all those chemicals made me scatter-brained and unable to make a decision on something as simple as a blouse at times. Certainly, HRT had an effect on my mood and emotional balance—why not my ability to choose and stick with an outfit selected? Right… I’m sure that’s the root of my clothing issues—hormones! Geesh!

I took the trashcan liners from the bathroom and from under the desk area in the living room, and tossed my dirty clothes in them. When I picked up my running gear from yesterday, I was none too impressed with the stink of stale sweat. Good thing I was bagging my dirty clothes. I chose what I intended to wear tonight: a cute linen skirt, blouse, slip I was still wearing, bra, panties, and flip-flops that didn’t exactly go with the outfit, but it’s the best I could do. For tomorrow’s flight, I laid out a pair of jeans, an Old Navy-branded t-shirt, a bra, underwear, socks, and my sketchers. Oh, and a light jacket because the Seattle weather was about forty degrees cooler.

Okay, that should do it. I arranged the outfits on the dresser and looked everything over at least three times with a critical eye. Augh… Can I just move on?!

Time to get out of here and run! I undid my blouse and stuffed it in one of the trash bags. I slipped out of my Calvin Klein skirt, which Agent Carr had said she had; I’m still not sure I bought that. I put my slip on the pile of clothes I was wearing for dinner tonight with Paul. Bras, panties, and gaff joined tonight’s clothes pile; if I were staying any longer in Arizona, I would have either hit a laundromat or gone out and bought some new clothes.

I caught my naked form in the mirror across the room. Don’t go there. No time for put-downs! Run! Go for a run!

I grabbed a pair of boy short panties and slid them on, followed by my last clean pair of compression shorts, and then my last clean pair of loose-fitting running shorts. I checked the mirror again. Okay, that’s better. I did have long legs, and it was interesting that Paul had mentioned them, even admiring them in a non-pervy way. I smiled at that, and then frowned, catching a glimpse of my shoulders.

No! Get dressed, get running!

Sports bra pulled on, loose-fitting tank top after that. Running shoes were next. I was ready to go, and it only took about two minutes. I so needed to get my head in a different space right now.

Bottle of water, key to the room in the phone case, phone in its armband, headphones... I jumped when my phone began ringing on my arm. I fumbled to get the earbuds in and pressed the mic/volume button to answer, “Hello.”

“Elizabeth… Hello. You sound like I caught you in the middle of something.”

“Oh, a… Hello, Ms. Larson. No, I… I’m just hanging out,” my heart was racing. Why was she calling me?

“Excellent, so you’re set to return tomorrow? Anything you need?”

“Ah, no, I think I’m all ready,” I replied. She sounded like she needed something; get ahead of it by asking. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

If she didn’t need something, was it creepy that she was checking to see if I needed anything?

“I’m trying to get a hold of Jacob. He’s pretty good about answering his phone, but I’ve called twice now and he’s not answering. Have you seen him today?”

Oh crap! I wasn’t going to lie, but should I tell her everything that had transpired today? I stopped giving updates after she said I was free to unwind over the past two days since Amber was recovered. Did she already know about the interview with Amber today?

“Yes, we were, the FBI conducted an interview with Amber this morning to get some additional information regarding David Lafleur.”

“Did she know anything that could help them?” she asked.

Ah! What do I tell her? If I try to guess what she knows and withhold that and she already knows, that isn’t going to look good! Crap! She likely knows about the email from Lisa with the rumor about the firm being split up. What do I say? Shit! Shit! Shit! I didn’t like the position the partners had put me in!

“No, she didn’t have anything that would put them on the right track. At least that’s what the agent interviewing her told everyone.”

That was the truth. I wasn’t going to mention I was in the interview. God, I hoped she didn’t know that.

“That’s too bad; I’m sure the Carson’s are frustrated that this thing can’t be put completely behind them with the conviction of those involved. As a sex trafficking case, the extradition of David Lafleur would have been difficult for the State Department to attain. It is best that this situation has some permanence they can be comforted by,” she said, as if not all that interested.

She knew about Lafleur; she had too, or she wouldn’t be referring to him in the past tense! Permanence? That’s an odd way to describe Lafleur having been murdered. Sex trafficking?! I never mentioned that to her! She knows as much as I know, I’ll bet! What crumbs had Jacob left in emails for Janet and Martin to find?

“Yes, I guess... There's still a lot of healing needed for the entire family. I can’t imagine what that is going to be like,” I said, praying she wouldn’t ask me any other questions about Amber.

“Oh, of course. What time did you last see Jacob, Elizabeth?”

I told her and mentioned he had stayed behind to talk with Director Keith. Did she know that already? Did she know they were friends? Would she be worried about that? The call ended with her thanking me for being here to help Jacob and the Carson's, and finally her saying, “We’re looking forward to having you back Monday.”

No mention of changes coming, the email from Lisa, or whether I had mentioned it to anyone—nothing! She was cool, calm, and, matter of fact, the entire call. Was something waiting for me Monday? Where was Jacob? What did he need to talk to Paul about? Augh! There are too many questions!

I looked around the room. Do I even want to run now? No! Wait, yes, go for a fucking run! I pulled the door to my room open and headed for the nearest exit. When I popped through the doorway, the sky was still ablaze in a beautiful shade of blue, with the occasional pillow-like cloud slowly making its way across the sky. I hit my music, then got going at a faster pace than I expected.

March 13th, 5:18 p.m.
There was nothing like taking a long shower after a good run. Since I wasn’t responsible for the heating of the water, that’s exactly what I intended on doing. I let the water flow and roll over my twenty months of chemically produced hips, that giggly ass due to generous fat redistribution, and, of course, my perky small breasts. I had hopes they would naturally be larger, but it wasn’t to be. Whatever, at least they were real!

I had to be pushing the thirty-minute mark under this powerful stream of hot water. My fingers were starting to show those water-logged wrinkles. I needed to get a move on it and quickly shaved my legs, rinsed a second round of conditioner through my hair, and finally called it good.

I reached for a towel and began patting my face on it gently when my phone began to buzz and ring on the vanity. I pulled open the shower stall door, got the towel wedged under my arms, and looked at the number—it was Paul.

“Hey you,” I said, cheery and happy to be talking to him.

“Hey yourself… What are you doing?” He asked, sounding like he was in a good mood.

I hoped he was going to want to meet early for dinner because I wanted to see him; maybe I’d missed him. Okay, that sounds sappy and needy! Geesh!

“Just getting out of the shower after getting in about seven miles, I think. Now, just get ready for later. What’s up?”

There was a pause, “Yeah... Well, it's going to be a little later. Any chance we can do dinner at 8?”

Okay, at least he wasn’t interested in being late and was warning me. I wondered what was going on, though.

“Sure, that’ll work. What are you doing?” I tried making that sound as if I wasn’t probing.

“Ran long with Tim, having problems with my backup, actually,” he replied.

“I saw some wonderful clouds out there while running today. They didn’t look to be having backup problems.”

“Ha ha… Very cute. I need this stuff done before I can unplug for the evening. Are you sure you’re good with an hour delay?”

Jacob MIA, help from Tim at the bureau with some cloud computing stuff. What are you up to too?

“Sure, let’s play it by ear—come get me when you can,” I said, wondering if I could loosen his lips anymore. “I got an interesting call before going out for a run.”

“Janet?”

“And you knew that, how?”

“I just pulled the entire stack from the firm’s network and am in the process of backing it up to the cloud. Tim got me pointed in the right direction after a failed attempt yesterday. Jacob is avoiding contact with Janet and Martin in case Blass has told them the network has been compromised—there’s no way that message hasn’t reached them though, Blass isn’t an idiot and he knows someone’s pulled a copy of every file,” he’d just outlined what he had been doing. “Figures she would try hitting you up looking for Jacob. Things are going to be coming to a head pretty quickly, I think,” a chime in the background caused him to pause, “Hey, gotta go... See you at 8.”

“Sure, but I want details.”

“I figured you would. I’ll come clean, I promise. Gotta go…”

March 13th, 7:39 p.m.
Getting ready was the typical struggle. I hated my body, and I hated the way the blouse I had picked out looked with this skirt, but I had only one other choice and it totally wouldn’t have worked. I thought about just wearing my outfit for the flight home tomorrow instead, but jeans weren’t going to make the lasting impression I wanted on Paul. The skirt showed off my legs, which he liked; I had more of a love-hate relationship with them, but I wanted to leave him to remember them regardless.

In the scope of it all, I just didn’t have a wide breadth of clothing options that were clean, or, well, I just didn’t have a lot of clothes, period. I certainly didn’t plan my wardrobe options very well for this trip. I should have packed more, even if I didn’t have a chance to wear what I packed – at least I’d have options. Likely no better if I was being honest with myself.

I had been watching a ‘Reload’ version of the TV show ‘Live PD’ since the top of the hour. It was interesting and even had police action from right here in Phoenix, though from a couple months ago. Some of these people captured on the show were none too bright. When there was a lull in the action, I reached for my Android tablet and checked my work email—nothing new.

I thought about replying to Lisa’s email about the firm but held off; hoping Paul was going to shine some light on things over dinner. Plus, Lisa wasn’t likely to see it until Monday morning, and I would be back to work then anyway. That was my...

A knock at the door, and I jumped. Shit! What am I nervous about? I closed up the tablet and went to the door, opening it to see Paul’s smiling face.

“Whoa… You look nice,” he said.

“Thanks… You’re early.”

“I caught a break; things just fell into place. You ready?”

“I’m starving; let’s go.” I grabbed a small clutch from the kitchen counter that had some basics in it: my phone, wallet, and, of course, the corporate credit card.

March 13th, 8:13 p.m.
The drive to the Brazilian steakhouse we’d decided to try didn’t take much time—maybe ten minutes. Paul had made a reservation for 7:15 PM but was able to change it to 8:15 PM when he knew he was going to be late. There wasn’t a wait when we got to the hostess stand, and we were seated right away. Drinks pretty much arrived within a few minutes of sitting and ordering them.

Paul was drinking a true IPA imported from Brazil, and to be different, I ordered a Caipirinha after the server described its distilling process as being similar to rum but the fermentation process being done with fresh sugarcane juice. The first sip was interesting; I could see liking these on a hot day out by a pool—not something you’d probably drink often in Seattle due to the weather.

We perused the menu, settling on two different cuts of steak, and agreed to share. To this point, not much had been said about Paul’s afternoon. I was getting impatient—do your mind reading thing, dude! You know what I want to hear about.

“You all packed?” he asked.

“I am,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. “This is interesting; you want to try it?”

“I’m not a connoisseur of alcohol like you, but I’ll try it.” He sipped the drink, made a little face, and handed it back. “Think I’ll stick to the beer. Brazilian beer, not bad actually.” He raised his glass, and we clinked our drinks together.

“You look tired,” I commented when it took him a second to recover from the sip we’d both just taken from our respective drinks.

“Yeah, been an interesting couple of weeks—months, actually,” he said, rubbing his neck.

“Tell me about it.” Double meaning, Mr. Kline, double meaning! Spill it before I ask you straight up.

“So, you know the score—Janet and Martin are making a play for the firm. They offered to buy Jacob out yesterday for fifty million dollars; the terms are five years for the full payment.”

I gasped, “OMG!”

“Terms are pretty basic; everything stays the same in regard to the staff of seventy-six lawyers; twenty-one of those are partners; fifty-two support personnel; the book of business; and a long list of other pieces that make up the firm. The real change is in the name; they’d be dropping Jacob’s name.” He took a sip of his beer, put it down, and then picked it up to take another.

“How does he feel about that?”

“Not so good. He started the firm twenty-nine years ago, and he’s not ready for retirement. I can certainly think of plenty of things to do with ten million dollars a year for five years.”

“But I don’t understand why they want him out.”

“Money… They want to restructure the firm to increase profit, and to do that, they need to realign staff. There’s talk about expanding to other metropolitan markets even.”

“They want to get rid of partners?”

“No, just the opposite. Look, from everything I can piece together, each lawyer in this firm generates on average about seven hundred fifty thousand dollars in revenues annually. Hack out twenty million for overhead, office space, and support staff—that’s sixty-seven million in gross profit—before paying those generating those revenues for the firm. The math is funky, but for reporting purposes or the public’s perception of profitability, the profit margin runs over 70%. If you’re trying to bring in new clients, you want to look like you’re doing a better job than others.”

Numbers, okay I get that those are big numbers, but I don’t understand the motivation yet. Add partners? Wait… Add partners; their salaries aren’t considered in the profit margin percentage calculation, but their generated revenue certainly looks more profitable to potential clients. Shit… What the hell is going on?

“You in there,” he waved a hand over the table.

I’d spent more time than I thought trying to understand what Paul was telling me.

“I’m getting it, but it’s not making sense yet. Look more profitable?”

"Well, don’t feel bad; I’ve been doing this for Jacob for seven months, and it was only through repetition that I began to get it,” he said thoughtfully. “Yes, look more profitable, so if you want to expand, you bring in more partners, more revenue, and the bank accounts keep growing.”

Expand the firm?

“So, Jacob doesn’t want to expand the firm?”

“Correct… He’s happy with the little kingdom he’s built in Seattle; he says he doesn’t need the added stress.”

“But they’re all managing partners; two to one vote against Jacob, and they're in expansion mode, right?”

“Generally, yes, but when Janet and Martin were brought on as managing partners, they split forty-nine percent of the firm's voting power. Jacob holds fifty-one percent.”

Partner, managing partner, associate—all titles that dictate your compensation package as a lawyer, including salary, bonus, and profit sharing. Our seventy lawyers, not counting the managing partners, make on average two hundred thousand a year in salary, plus—for giggles—half their salary in bonuses, a little thrown in for profit sharing, and that sixty-seven million in gross profit really shrinks to about eighteen million to share among the three managing partners. Jacob getting 51 percent of that is around nine million...

“They low-balled him,” I muttered aloud finally.

Paul was staring at me. “You’re better at math in your head than I am. I’d be like, ‘carry the seven, divided by zero’ and still be way off.”

His joke was lost on me; I was thinking too hard about the numbers.

“The Port of Seattle contract alone generates $10 million annually, I would bet. Expansion, I don’t get it.

Then it hit me! Crap! Martin is always traveling and speaking abroad at various colleges! There would be plenty of newly minted lawyer grads for him to cherry pick from if the idea was to expand the firm. The markets he’s probably researched are likely all over the country, and any city with port activities and a union could look attractive too given our firms work with the Seattle port union.

“Wow! Show some success negotiating with the new city council, which you helped get elected through generous donations, to circumvent the new mayor's desire for a better contract with the union favoring the city. This would be one way you could pick up new clients. Likely pretty easily…”

“It’s a game within a game, Liz,” he said.

I was about to speak, but our server was setting down a plate in front of me, then placing one in front of Paul. The smell wafting from the beautiful steaks on our plates was intoxicating, and being as hungry as I was, it was hard not to switch my focus. We were asked if we wanted to refresh our drinks, and after questioning looks at each other we decided we did.

“Let’s eat; we’ve got plenty of time to talk business later, deal?” Paul asked.

I agreed… Little did he know the break in talking about the firm only gave me time to organize the things I knew to this point. I had so many more questions I wanted to ask.

March 13th, 9:37 p.m.
The walk from our table to the exit was nice, as Paul had his hand on the small of my back the entire way, and once out the door, he took my hand as we walked to the car. It felt unusual holding someone’s hand, but also comforting in a stomach fluttering, joy-inspiring, whatever kind of way. I’m probably just feeling that second drink with dinner, right? No… I think I like this guy.

When we got to the hotel, Paul ran around and opened the car door for me, which made me giggle a bit. It was special, and I was having all kinds of lustful thoughts concerning this man. As I got out, I had an urge to kiss him, and as I turned into him, I put a hand on his chest and leaned in to satisfy that want. He wasted no time reciprocating—our tongues telegraphing those urges we both had.

Telegraph? Does that even exist anymore? Wait… Oh, God… I felt him wrap his arms around me, and I was melting, my knees weakening. He pulled away and was looking into my eyes.

“Where’d that come from?” he asked.

“I don’t... I...”

“It’s OK,” he said, kissing me briefly. “I wanted to kiss you when I picked you up,” he said slyly.

“Well, then you should have,” I said, bolder than I felt.

“Next time, I will.”

We decided to get a last drink at the hotel bar before calling it a night. I tallied up the number of drinks I’d had on this trip, and they were more than I had consumed in total over the last three years combined. Mostly because I was perpetually broke and just didn’t have money to blow on alcohol or a host of other frivolities. I did enjoy the effects of the alcohol, the buzz, and feeling more relaxed. I just needed to keep my tongue from getting me in trouble.

March 13th, 9:56 p.m.
On a Saturday night, there wasn’t much of a crowd in the hotel bar, which is odd since the restaurant on site had a Michelin star and was seating its last guests at 10 p.m. No matter, we found a booth and caught the eye of the bartender, who came over to take our drink order. Paul stuck with beer; I did the rum and Coke standard.

“Alright, I’ve had an awesome evening, but it’s time to get back to some questions,” I said with a pouty-faced smile, but full of playfulness in my tone.

“Oh, really? What do you want to know?” Paul asked.

What did I want to know?

“What have you been doing with all this cloud stuff? Oh, and no tech talk, please.”

He chuckled, “Fine, ruin my whole answer. No, actually, I’ve been gathering evidence of misconduct. Mostly emails between Martin and a couple of the players within the union.”

“Evidence for what? Is Jacob filing a complaint with the state board? Ethics violation?”

“Yeah, it’s a ‘Cover his ass’ move. Between the campaign contributions and positioning Martin has made via email with union representatives, Jacob feels there have been some ethics violations. Strike first, be transparent, and hopefully save the union representation contract and any public backlash.”

Whoa! That meant a disciplinary board would convene, review the information, and hand down a ruling. Martin could be made to attend judicial classes at the low end of the punishment scale, all the way to being suspended or disbarred. Jacob’s move kept the firm above board but made Martin look a little dirty. Throw in any of the city council or union representative connections, and this was a serious play to save the firm.

“So, he’s not selling out. Did he make an offer to buy Janet and Martin out?” I asked.

“Exactly…”

What? What ‘exactly’?

“And?”

“He did that this morning, via courier. He basically rejected their offer and is offering them the same deal they offered him.”

“Did he tell them about filing with the state board?”

Paul smiled, “He didn’t have too; the pulling of all the data today caught them off guard. Blass has since shut down the network—parts of it at least. He’ll be let go tomorrow when Jacob gets back to Seattle. Jacob had me send an email request to the firm’s offsite data repository company for some specific periods—some of the Exchange email server data has gone missing. I’ll be able to get anything deleted back. Oh, and Landon sent an email to Jacob offering assistance with the state attorney general—pretty sure everyone knows there’s a fight coming.”

“Janet?”

“She chooses her side; she’ll be facing the same disciplinary board charges as Martin; though her work with the union is minimal, the city council's contributions don’t shine the best light on her.”

“Do I still... The firm will continue to function then; I just go to work Monday and pick up where I left off.”

“I'm pretty sure that’s what Jacob expects from you. Look, nothing is going to change overnight. The big dogs have all postured up. Janet and Martin might not even show up for a few days while they try to figure out their next moves. My money is on Jacob. I pretty much think they are on their way out, though. The firm has plenty of clients and work going on that can’t just stop.”

Of course, Paul was right; the business couldn’t just shut its doors without hosing hundreds of clients and jeopardizing cases in progress, but... Oh shit!

“Where does that leave you?” I asked, concerned.

"Well, I guess you get to see a little more of me than you might like.”

“Huh? You taking over for Blass?”

He smiled and said, “Temporarily, but I’ll be heading up a search for a new CIO. There are a couple guys there who work as network administrators and do basic support, so I won’t be alone trying to keep the lid on the firm’s network.”

“But, you said... You’re cluster-phobic. How are you going to make it up to the office?”

Why the heck did I bring that up? I shook my head, annoyed at myself. No more alcohol for me!

He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

“Guess you’ll have to help me with that.”

March 13th, 11:21 p.m.
The walk back to my room was nice—no handholding—but there was a calming, connected feeling I had about being with Paul. At my door, he said he had to get back to work; his kiss goodnight and firm grasp on my ass during that kiss said he wished he could stay. I had to be up in like four hours, so while it might have been fun to do a ‘Netflix and chill’ kind of end to the night, I was good with how it ended. Alone in a quiet room with just the AC humming away, I did feel a little lonely.

There was no time to pout though as I needed to get my face ready for bed. When that was done, I did one last check to make sure everything was set for tomorrow: teeth were brushed, two alarms set, and t-shirt-only sleeping attire. My mind was spinning from all that had happened today. I hoped I could get to sleep before the alarms went off.

Phone on charger, ‘click’ the light out, very quiet in here, very…

March 14th, 12:55 p.m.
My apartment was cold; more to the fact of it the general Seattle area was cold. I’d been up since 4 AM, and pretty much to this point, the day had gone exactly as expected. The surprise of the day was not getting any additional screening at the airport full-body scan machine. Granted, my jeans were maybe a little too tight, and being tucked in tight jeans, while not comfortable, must have been what the TSA agent expected since I’d warned the agent at the scanner. I’m sure my little boobs helped get the ‘Transgendered Woman’ alarms from going off given my crotch area was a muddle of my junk.

Here and now, though, it was quiet in the apartment complex and like a tomb in my unit. I’d picked up my mail—mostly junk, unpacked, and changed into a tattered pair of sweat pants and a Pink! branded sweatshirt. I texted Paul when I had landed and was getting ready to call him after he texted back that he missed me. I was soaring from something as simple as that! It really was a boost to my psyche.

I pulled up his number and hit ‘Dial’.

On the third ring, I got a hearty, “Hey! You all settled?”

It was nice to hear his voice and the cheer in his voice directed at me.

“Yup, I look like a slob, and I really don’t care. I'll probably take a nap after this; I’m wasted. I think that’s the most booze I’ve drank in a very long time. My body isn’t used to the poisoning. I can feel it coming out of my pores.” I heard him chuckle at my complaining.

“I have a beer every couple days; it takes the edge off.”

“Well, back to the real world for me, and no disposable cash for that stuff.”

"Seriously, the real world, I’m ready to get out of here and back to some norm.”

Did your norm include me? I hoped things hadn’t changed in the past twelve hours.

“You done at the Carson’s’?”

“Mmhuh, ‘little’ icy while I was there. I saw Amber once when she went to the kitchen for something and Stephanie was a ghost, I didn’t see her at all. The boys must have spent the night at a friend's. Gary looked pissed and acted that way towards me. I got what I needed done though, explained it, and got out of there pretty quickly.”

“Honestly, gonna be a while before that family see’s eye to eye. I hope they get the help they need and Amber gives up her porn star ambitions,” I added.

We talked for ten minutes more and I learned Jacob was probably just now getting to Seattle about now. That meant the Blass issue would be taken care of shortly. Paul said he would likely be in the office tomorrow late afternoon and hoped he’d see me. I was disappointed he didn’t ask about maybe having dinner, but as he talked about all he needed to do it sounded like he was going to busy into the late evening.

He asked if I was running later. I said I was taking the day off. And after that the conversation seemed to peter out... I knew he was busy, but I missed him. Did he know that?

“Okay… Well, gotta go finish up some things before Jacob cans Blass. Not the same around her without you kid…”

“Yeah… I wish we were hanging out – with less drama swirling around us of course,” I replied and couldn’t help but smile.

“Me too… See you tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yup… Call me if you have elevator troubles, I’d be happy to hold your hand,” I got out quickly and felt flush, maybe a little embarrassed with offering that.

“Will do and I’d happily take the assistance… Catch ya tomorrow Liz.”

“’bye, Paul…”

March 15th, 9:07 a.m.
I’d gone to bed early last night, having forgone the nap I thought I was going to take due to vegging on the couch and zoning out in front of the TV. Now I felt sluggish, like I’d slept too much. I should have gone for a run last night instead of wasting my evening away; I would be running tonight for sure.

The bus commute to the office was as it always was: long and uneventful. I wasn’t sure what to expect when walking into the office, so it was comforting to see everything appear to be ‘business as usual’. I went to my office, got my coat off, put my purse in my desk drawer, and jiggled the mouse to wake up my PC. I entered my credentials and was presented with my desktop.

I guess our systems are still up. I started the Outlook email program and was greeted by a handful of unread items in my inbox. All their titles led me to believe they were work-related, so I could stop worrying about needing to look for another job for the time being. Guess it’s really back to reality time...

March 15th, 10:26 a.m.
As the morning progressed I saw plenty of people walking past my office, got a few head nods and waves. I thought about stopping by Lisa’s office, but I knew we’d be doing coffee about now.

“Hey,” I said, looking up when she finally got around to poking her head in my door.

“Where’s the tan?” she asked.

“No time… I get out for a run every day, though. The weather was amazing down there.”

“Do you see my email?”

“Mmhuh, not until Friday night though, and I knew you wouldn’t see a reply until today. I thought I’d save the internet the trouble.”

“You heard Bill was let go yesterday?”

“Bill?” I knew who she was talking about, but I wanted to make it look like I didn’t know much of anything.

“Bill Blass, IT Director, server God,” she rattled off rolling her eyes.

"Oh, did they say why that happened?”

“No, but it probably has something to do with the partners fighting. I saw Jacob earlier, but no Janet or Martin yet.”

"Sure, it seems like a lot of drama has been going on since I left.”

“Are we getting coffee or what? Pretty sure Bryant’s been missing me,” she said with a wolfish smile.

“Let’s go, girl,” I chuckled.

March 15th, 11:06 a.m.
It was good to see Bryant; I guess I did kind of miss their bantering while I was away. They were sort of cute together, but I still didn’t think they had the chemistry to last if it ever progressed beyond the espresso stand.

While we stood at a table in the atrium, drinking our lattes, Lisa grilled me about what I was doing in Phoenix. I told her I was helping Jacob with a case he was consulting on that involved the potential extradition of someone from Canada. I cut her off from asking any more questions with the “The case is confidential...” line twice before she got the message. I probably shouldn’t have said what I said about it, and I made her promise she wouldn’t say anything to anyone. She happily agreed.

The rest of our break was pretty tame; there was some talk about the partners, but nothing I didn’t already know. When I got back to my desk, there was a meeting request in my email: All-hands Support Staff, Cascade Conference Room, First Floor, 2:00 PM. Here we go I thought. This will be the defining moment for the firm and likely all of our employment.

I checked the participant list—no attorneys, but Jacob would be attending. I had gotten a text from Paul when he got to the airport in Phoenix; it was likely he would be here for this meeting. I was excited, and I hoped how I was dressed caught his attention. Lisa had mentioned I looked nice and then asked if I had an interview. We both got a good giggle out of that one! I had worn this skirt today to accentuate my legs for Paul - in case I got to see him and to keep him interested. Was I pushing it? I hoped not.

One plus to the coffee break with Lisa - she hadn’t brought up her ‘Get laid’ comment from her email telling me about Janet and Martin. I’m not sure I could lie my way out of answering her without a smile I couldn’t suppress when I thought about Paul.

March 15th, 1:54 PM
Lisa and I rode down the elevator to the first floor together, and not knowing where the Cascade Conference Room was, we just followed the herd of other support staff. A couple times Lisa would have brief conversations with others from the office, and I pretty much smiled a lot and stuck to her hip. Inside the theater-sized auditorium-like conference room, we were able to get seats near the middle of the crowd of others attending. There looked to be about forty-five support staff gathered and wondered if I was the only one worried about their job.

Augh! Let it go! Think about something else! I looked toward the stage and could see Jacob, Gillian, the office manager, and a few of the supervisors.

“Oh my,” Lisa leaned over and said in my ear, “Stage left... Guy in the suit. Mmm…”

I looked to the left and saw Paul. I know my pulse rate increased a bit, and a little nervous energy began to flow. He was looking around the room, and when he saw me, he smiled. I felt flush, like a spot light had been turned on me from the stage area. He had looked for me and I felt…

“Now that’s a good-looking guy... I'm a little older than I care for, but I might make an exception,” Lisa said.

Her comment made me bristled a little.

“Really? You think he looks old?” I asked.

“Mmm, maybe mid-thirties. I think five years on either side of my age is the right spread.”

“Really? Why do you think that?” I asked.

“Five years and you’re dealing with someone who can’t name a song you used to jam to in your high school years, hasn’t seen a movie you love, and just is not in the same headspace, know what I mean?”

She said all that with so much matter-of-fact confidence it made me wonder if I should be worried about the age gap between us. Paul was almost thirteen years older than I was—was he in a different headspace? What did that even mean?

“What do you think?” Lisa asked, breaking my train of thought.

“I… I don’t know... I really haven’t given it a lot of thought. What if he was really nice and supportive?” I asked.

“Look, the man is certainly good-looking. He’s probably married or gay. No, married for sure.”

Lisa was annoying me pretty good right now—did she have no filter? Was this ‘girl talk’?

“I think he’s cute,” I finally replied, to see if that might shut her up.

“Okay… When this is over, I’m introducing you.”

“No… No, that’s okay. Thanks anyway, I can manage,” I said nervously, not wanting some awkward moment with Paul in front of Lisa or anyone else for that matter. Grrr!!!

Jacob was climbing up the stairs near where Paul was standing and walking to the center of the stage. The room’s volume went from loud to nearly silent.

“Good afternoon. I wanted to have a quick meeting with everyone to set things straight with some rumors you may have heard floating around the office this past week. The firm is going to be transitioning over the next couple of months. Janet Larson and Martin Brandt have decided to pursue opportunities outside of the firm."

There were murmurs throughout the conference room theater.

"I want to assure you that nothing we are doing today—be it the clients we represent or the day-to-day operation—is going to change much. There will be a few new partners brought on board to take Janet and Martin’s places and likely some other staff additions," Jacob paused, and the tension felt less suffocating.

"Everyone will be gainfully employed for as long as you continue to perform at the levels you’ve exhibited since you’ve joined the firm. No one is being let go, and no reductions in staff are expected for the Seattle or Bellevue offices."

You could feel the room finally take a much-needed breath before Jacob continued.

"We did let Bill Blass go, but that was part of the management change needed to move forward. His position as IT Director will be temporarily held by Paul Kline.” Jacob waved a hand toward Paul, who raised his hand for everyone to see.

“If you have questions or concerns, please start by requesting a meeting from your supervisor or Gillian. Thank you for your continued support.”

The hush in the theater went on for a good twenty seconds before the first groups of people stood after realizing Jacob was done speaking to state of the firm. People began to exit the conference room and head back to work.

Lisa was looking at me. "I wonder how sudden Janet and Martin's exit really were."

I just shrugged and made my way with Lisa in tow to the aisle, then joined the line of people exiting. Ahead at the exit I could see Jacob, Gillian, and Paul had gathered. Jacob was occasionally shaking someone's hand, offering a smile or head nod, or a greeting of some type. I hoped we could skate right by without being noticed, but I couldn’t help but look at Paul.

And I noticed he was watching, no staring at me! When I was just about to squeeze by the gauntlet of power players I felt Lisa brush past me, and posting up in front of him,

"Mr. Kline," she said with an embarrassing amount of cheer, "I'm Lisa Scott, and this is Elizabeth Gallagher. We wanted to welcome you."

I know my mouth dropped, and if there was a rock nearby, I would have made an attempt to get under it.

Paul was all smiles and said, "The Elizabeth Gallagher?" He stuck out his hand towards me, and instinctively, I reached for it to shake it. "I've heard a lot about you from Jacob. I look forward to working with you, even if it's just temporary."

I was flush, and I could feel my body shiver slightly. There was an air void in my throat and every thought I was having was making it hard to hear any sound other than a dull ringing in my ears. I couldn't speak, so I just smiled. Paul let my hand loose after a longer than comfortable handshake, and Lisa and I made our way out of the conference room theater towards the elevators.

"What was that?" Lisa asked.

I shrugged, still not sure I could speak. I was smiling broadly, though; I couldn't help it.

"Oh my God, you know him! You know him, right?" she asked.

::: --- :::

I would like to acknowledge the assistance of Bronwen Welsh in proofreading and giving me insightful advice. She is an accomplished author in her own right and I appreciate her time more than I can say...

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R