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“I was fired.”

Three shocked faces stared at her, and Jessica braced herself for the strained dam of tears she’d held back all day to burst. But instead she was dry-eyed, wary.

“Why?” Sarah surprised her by being the first to speak. “Is the firm in trouble? Do they need to downsize?”

Was it? Jessica hadn’t considered that, but no, the life jacket Sarah had floated her way wouldn’t hold her up.

“I don’t know.” Jessica slowly sat down on the banquette in the kitchen nook.

Chloe, still holding the champagne, sat on the other side of her and squished over until they were thigh to thigh, just like she always had as a kid.

“They treated me like a criminal,” she said hollowly, the disbelief rising back up like fog. “I was escorted out by security. Daniel and Bill. They acted like they didn’t know me. Like I was an intruder.”

“What the…? They have to have a reason.” Meghan’s lawyer voice came out. “In writing. Where’s the paperwork? What is the stated reason? Where are your biannual reviews? Where’s the written-up concerns about your performance? Eight years. They can’t fire you without cause, without notification. Did they offer you a severance package? You have a right to consult an attorney.”

Jessica stared at her sister, admiration growing. None of them looked like they thought it was her fault.

“I…my boss is out with a scheduled hip replacement surgery and the associate he works closely with was in a car accident Friday at lunch—he’ll be okay but is out for a few weeks. One of his longtime clients had called with some questions and concerns as he’d missed a meeting, so I looked into it Friday afternoon so he wouldn’t worry, but—” She broke off, making a face, not sure if she should share the beginnings of her suspicions even with her sisters.

“There were some…unusual numbers, so I logged the information out and took it home over the weekend. I wanted to wait to talk to my boss before contacting the client, but this morning as soon as I arrived, I was called into one of the newer partner’s offices—Drew Whittaker III…” She had to swallow the rising bile. “He never gets in before nine, but he was there at six forty-five.” She still remembered the shock, and the first inkling of nerves when he’d closed his office door, trapping her. “I never…liked him. He always seemed…”

“Slimy. Misogynistic. Entitled. Smooth brain, smoother smarmy tongue,” Meghan slotted in.

“Meghan,” Sarah admonished softly even as Jessica bit back an unexpected urge to laugh.

“Oh, you’ve met him.”

“Know the type. Work with them. Slay them like the dragon I am.” Meghan danced around the kitchen like she had a sword in her hand.

“If you were a dragon you’d crisp them by breathing fire. They’d have the sword, but they’d be bacon you’d eat if you weren’t worried about cholesterol and clogged arteries,” Chloe said practically. “Can you appeal the decision? Talk to your boss when he gets back?”

“Of course,” Meghan answered. “I want to see what you have. Go over everything that happened. Tell me what you learned about the client because that sounds suss AF.”

“Meghan.” Jessica was still shocked by Meghan’s potty mouth even when she abbreviated her shocking swear words. But of course Meghan would read between the lines. The client’s file, and the one she’d uncovered when digging, were suspicious, worrying—and then her quick firing. “I can’t share client information with you.”

“Attorney-client privilege, and when we slap a lawsuit with a deposition, nepo baby the trey will have to comply, and I don’t think Daddy and Granddaddy’s little boy will like that one little bit. Isn’t he the hole who asked you out more than once when he graduated and hop-skipped his nepo baby butt to the top floor near the corner office?”

Jessica winced at the awkward memory. She cited company policy to soften the rejection, but he’d laughed throatily, veneers blindingly white and said ‘rules were meant to be broken,’ and that it was ‘more fun to sneak around.’

Maybe she had stumbled into something illegal. But instead of feeling indignant and ready to fight as Meghan clearly was, since she’d pulled up a chair, and turned on the voice memo app of her phone, a wave of warm calm rolled over her for the first time in months.

“Actually,” Jessica said, placing her hand over Meghan’s phone. “I don’t want to fight it.”

“What? You were fired unjustly. It’s a cover-up of something, and you’re the scapegoat.”

“Actually,” she repeated the word, “I’m relieved a little,” she qualified, as again she had all three of her sisters’ intense attention. “I haven’t been happy there for…for a long time,” she admitted for the first time even as the word ‘forever’ played in her mind.

“I took the job because it was so prestigious. One of the top firms in the southeast. My classmates were all gunning for the same firm, and I got the job.” Her pride had definitely been a big part of her decision. “The job was challenging. There would be opportunities to travel, and I wanted to live in Charlotte, not come back to Belmont.”

“And not join the family firm and be gulped down,” Meghan slotted in. “But we’re still going to fight your dismissal.”

“I don’t want my job back,” Jessica said, shocked that after only one day of processing, she knew that in her bones. She was nervous. Not fully prepared with a business plan, but she’d dug deep in the earth today, worked hard, and it was for her.

“What are you going to do?” Sarah asked.

“If you love Charlotte so much, why did you rent your condo and move here?” Chloe looked around the once rustic kitchen that Grandma Millie had started—with all of their input and their father’s remonstrations that they were wasting money and resources—remodeled over the past few years into a bit of a French country vibe. “Not that I’m not happy that you’re closer and we can hang more when I come up to take care of the cats. Hey, maybe we could get some goats.”

“Even if you don’t want your job back, you need to fight,” said Meghan, who never once walked away from an argument with a truce in the offering.