“I’m ready. This is so cool. I’ve always wanted to learn how to surf.”
Granger headed to his SUV with Landry chattering non-stop beside him. Some days were good days. This was going to be one of them.
This was the worst day ever and it was never going to end. It was only ten in the morning and she was in New York City fighting an inane motion by opposing counsel instead of being in the Charleston office. However, Olivia Townsend didn’t ever give opposing counsel the satisfaction of seeing how pissed off she was. She had the best poker face in the business for good reason. This case should have been over and done with but Robert Whitehall, the opposing counsel, was intent on dragging it out until the cows came home. His client was the CEO who’d been embezzling from a troubled company her client, Ryker Faulkner, was buying. The embezzlement came to light when Ryker’s interest in the firm led to Olivia’s review of the company’s financials. Her initial review was unsatisfactory so she started digging and exposed the CEO’s theft in short order. The company’s board would rather sell privately and quietly to Ryker than engage in a public firing that would tank business. However, the CEO didn’t want to let go of his golden eggs without a fight.
“I know the nuance of the case is hard to grasp for someone who only attended State Law School, but Miss Townsend’s lack of experience in finance law shouldn’t result in the undue burden she’s trying to impose on my client by demanding he produce seven years of documentation.”
Oh, that was it. Olivia stood as she addressed the court in her crisp, professional way. “What Mr. Whitehall has apparently failed to learn from his overpriced law school education is to always double-check the case law searches your paralegal performs for you. If he had, he’d have seen that last week an appellate court upheld the Misner case, ruling that seven years of personal financial statements from the CEO of a company accused of embezzlement is not an undue burden, but, in fact, required. A case whose facts are shockingly similar to Mr. Whitehall’s client, don’t you think?” Olivia asked Robert instead of the judge. “My client requires those documents to determine the full financial impact of damage done to the company he’s purchasing before the board and Mr. Faulkner can settle on a purchase price.”
“Your Honor,” Robert said, rolling his eyes at Olivia. “The board is illegally conspiring with Miss Townsend’s client and withholding my client’s salary and his bonus. Now forcing him to turn over records of this duration is, by law, an undue burden.”
“Mr. Whitehall,” the judge began, “in accordance with Misner, which this State Law grad read myself just last week, your client has two weeks to produce seven years of personal financial statements or be held in contempt.”
The gavel sounded and Olivia could finally head back to Charleston. It was Friday and all she wanted to do was go home and get to Shadows Landing for the weekend. She needed it. Nasty emails had been coming to her inbox for the past three weeks. They’d started off simple. I like watching you in court and then thinking of me dominating you in every way. Then they’d progressed when she hadn’t replied. You can’t ignore me forever. I’ll enjoy training you how to show me the respect I deserve. You think you’re so powerful, but you’re not. You’ll learn that soon enough.
When Olivia went to the small town of Shadows Landing, she could disconnect. She’d bought a cottage that backed up to the river just north of Charleston. It was her oasis in this crazy legal world. She felt safe there, even if she still got the emails.
“You think you won this, but you’re too stupid to realize it’s already over,” Robert sneered.
“Over like your position on the top lawyers in New York City list that came out yesterday?” Olivia asked with a sweet smile. “I didn’t see where you were on that list since I stopped reading after my name.” Olivia took no crap from anyone but her brothers, but even they knew when to stop pushing her. This was one of those times. She’d flown to New York at five in the morning just for this completely pointless hearing. A hearing that lasted two hours when it should have lasted ten minutes. She had two busy billionaires on her client list who had flown her all over the country this week on business and now she was tired and had been called in on her one day off to put up with this asshole.
“You’re a fucking cu—”
“Cunning lawyer, yes, I am. Thank you.” Olivia turned on her high heels and strode from the courtroom.
Come to the office ASAP. Something’s happening.
Olivia groaned as she read the text from her New York assistant. Olivia hated dramatics. And vague texting. However, after sending six different assistants running from the building in tears, Olivia found her match in Imani. The woman was only in her early twenties but took no crap from anyone. She didn’t cower when Olivia handed her a stack of things to do or when she had to deal with the Robert Whitehalls of the world. She took the feedback Olivia gave her, not as a personal insult but as constructive ways to improve her job. That meant Olivia was willing to put up with the occasional vague text.
Leaving court now. What’s going on?
Olivia’s private car was waiting for her at the curb. After being attacked in New York City by a man pretending to be a company driver, the firm had hired a full-time driver just for her whenever she was in the city.
“Apparently we need to get to the office ASAP,” Olivia said with a roll of her eyes to Eric, her driver. Eric was in his fifties, but, if not for the graying dark-brown hair and slightly gray scruff hiding some wrinkles, he would look thirty. A veteran, he’d retired after a thirty-year career in the military. Olivia was his only client. He said it gave him something to do while still allowing time off when she was in Charleston.
“What now?” he asked after he closed her door, settled himself behind the wheel, and pulled into traffic.
“No idea. Imani vague texted again.”
Girl followed by the big-eyed emoji began Imani’s latest text. I’ll meet you out front. I’m tracking you.
Normally that would be creepy, but all the corporate cars had GPS so the firm would know exactly when lawyers left meetings, court, and so on so that everything was ready for them when they arrived at the office.
“Did you make another paralegal quit?” Eric asked with a chuckle. “What number are you up to?”
“Seven, but it’s not as bad as it sounds,” Olivia said defensively.
Eric just laughed harder.
“Fine, it’s bad. But I thought Mateo was working out. He only cried the first week of work,” Olivia admitted.
“You should have been a drill sergeant. The military would love you.” Eric turned toward the law office as he grinned.
“The military already has a Townsend. Trust me, there’s not enough room for two of us,” Olivia looked out the window and saw Imani practically jumping up and down and waving her arms as if Olivia didn’t see her on the sidewalk.
Olivia didn’t wait for Eric to open her door, which earned her a glare from him when he caught up to her on the sidewalk, but Imani was already in full OMG mode. Her long black braids swung back and forth and her tawny brown skin seemed to glow with energy. Her deep brown eyes were alive with excitement and her perfectly manicured nails flashed as she waved them around, talking a mile a minute.