“The last time they provided me with a quarterly report, the amount was $476,892,743.51.”
“Let’s not forget the fifty-one cents,” I drawl.
“Ward,” Carys tries again.
“Carrie, what the hell were they thinking not preparing us for this?” I shout.
“I don’t know!” she yells back.
That’s when I realize Carys has just as little of an idea of what to do as I do. I just assumed because she was older she had a better handle on things.
I should have known better. No one has any idea how to handle this.
I stride in her direction and haul her into my arms.
“We’ll get through this, Ward. We have to.”
“Yeah, we will.”
Though I have no idea how.
One
Angela
Some of your favorite celebs turn fashion into an art. Leading the fall list of best-dressed is genre-defiant singer, Erzulie. Her style is much like her vocal capability. Not everyone can mix fitted sequins, exaggerated oversized wool cardigans, and thigh-high leather boots together to make it trendy.
— Eva Henn, Fashion Blogger
This wasn’t the future I had planned for myself.
For just a moment, I let my mind wander away from calendars and phones. I tap my fingers against my desk agitatedly, hating I’m ruled by mandates of other people’s schedules. I had such amazing plans. I was going to explore every nook and corner of the world until I couldn’t absorb any more knowledge. Then, I’d figure out what I wanted to do with that knowledge.
Now, I’m too terrified to do more but trudge through each and every day.
“Angie? Did you arrange for the cake to be delivered?” My boss, Carys Burke, pops her head out of the inner sanctum of LLF, LLC, her entertainment law firm, to ask.
I plaster a smile on my face before turning around to face her. “I did. It should be here in about an hour.”
“Fantastic. If you could bring it back when it gets here, I’d appreciate it. You know I hate to use you for things like this.” Carys steps fully out of the office.
I wave off her concern. “It’s what some assistants do for their bosses.”
“It’s not what my legal assistant does,” she stresses. “And I want to let you know I appreciate it.”
“I know you do. You take care of all of the people who work for you.” Just as the words finish coming from my mouth, the frosted glass doors fly open with such force, I’m surprised they don’t shatter.
The wonder boy has arrived.
“Good morning, Ward.”
“Angie.” He nods
“Ward!” Carys beams up at her younger brother. Then again, if it’s a member of the LLF family, Carys always beams at them in greeting. My lips twitch. Definitely different than the early days when I worked for her.
“Not now, Carys. Do you know what your friend Beckett managed to get himself into this time?” He grabs her under the elbow and drags her away from my desk without a word to me, muttering under his breath.
Carys’s smile fades. “Oh, the hell he did!”
Ward’s grim “Exactly” is the last thing I hear before the heavy wood door closes on their conversation.
I’m not surprised by the siblings’ behavior, nor am I put off by Ward’s lack of greeting. Before Ward worked here, he would come to visit his sister, and his eyes would land upon me with something else that had nothing to do with business. He was effusive and sweet until one day he wasn’t. And so began the arctic freeze.
I never imagined someone like Ward would ever be interested in a person with my reputation, but it was nice just having someone to talk to for a few minutes who treated me with gentlemanly courtesy. His charm reminded me of the stories my grandmother would tell me about the way my grandfather wooed her. A brief smile flits across my lips. “Anyway, it was a nice time.”
I’m startled when the phone rings. “LLF, this is Angela. How may I direct your call?”
“Nowhere, you goose. Don’t you ever leave your cell phone on?” my best friend exclaims.
“Rarely, and only when I know you’re calling. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Angie,” Sula chides me.
“I can’t think about it,” comes my lightning-quick response. “And I sure as hell refuse to speak of it.”
“I’m not asking you to. I just want you to know you’re loved. That’s all.”
“Okay.”
“All right.” I can tell Sula’s gearing up to say more, but I’m rescued by the ringing of the office line.
“Have to go. We’ll talk more over the weekend.”
Even though I know she’s reluctant to let me go, Sula hangs up.
It’s a complete comfort to have my daily routine start the exact same way after so many years of battling to be normal. It’s just like when a piece of software reloads a file you’ve lost, I think with satisfaction. Feeling content, I swirl to face my computer and begin scanning the social media sites to determine if any of my boss’s clients will be calling to interrupt her already packed day.
Carys Burke might be diminutive in stature, but as a lawyer, she’s a barracuda. It’s why after striking out on her own only five short years ago—and stealing her now husband, David Lennan, and me from the company we all worked for prior—to start LLF, LLC, we represent some of the biggest musical names in the industry. When I came on board, Carys explained in addition to being legal assistant to both her and David, part of my job is to play watchdog to ensure their antics don’t require immediate legal services.
“Now, I get the fun of seeing Ward’s name pop up as much as our clients,” I mutter as I scroll through my RSS feed. The paparazzi can’t get enough of Carys’s brother, the man whose lukewarm greeting equates me to well-functioning office furniture. Then again, I’m not so certain what I feel about him either.
Carys would erect a shrine to her baby brother, given the opportunity. David has a much clearer impression of “Winsome Ward,” as the tabloids have dubbed him. “He’s not quite the man you think he is, Angie. Losing their parents affected both of them; Ward more so. I think he lost his ability to have fun,” David let slip one day after Ward snapped at me when one of our favorite clients engaged me in a paper airplane contest with Post-its. There was such disdain in the way Ward brushed aside the pink plane.
Ever since, there’s a small part of me that’s wanted to inform him that tiny little bit of fun —something I, myself, rarely indulge in— didn’t ruin his three-thousand-dollar suit.
Frowning at the screen, I mutter, “I don’t get it.” Of all of us who work here at the firm, I never expected Ward to be the most serious, especially considering how fierce Carys is and how efficient David is. Yet, Ward is the one people who saunter through our doors believe should smile, yet I rarely see one on his brooding face.
When I was forced to describe him to Sula after she realized I was now working with him, I begrudgingly said, “He’s a modern-day Heathcliff.” And it’s true, if that’s your type. Objectively, Ward Burke is a magnificent-looking man whose sheer masculinity is a magnet for men and women alike. Just not this woman.