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Story: Forever Love-Reimagined
Chapter Three
Blake - Monday
The meeting progressed smoothly, and the Harrises were happy with the will I had drawn up. They still had to look it over with their kids and would come back to have it notarized, but I didn’t have any issues other than Greg being there, acting like a babysitter.
After we wrapped up, I showed my clients out and turned to face him. “Hi, Greg. What can I help you with today?” Even though we both had the same equity in the firm, seniority still mattered, so I would play nice.
We didn’t get along too well because he never liked that I made senior partner at such a young age. In fact, he voted against me when I was up for the promotion, and I didn’t like him because he was arrogant.
He gave me a complete once-over before showing a disparaging smile. “Interesting style choice today, Blake. Not sure I’ve seen you with your hair down before.”
Nope. I liked to be in control, and that included taming my mane. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say, so I nodded. I didn’t want to prolong this conversation.
“Anyway, that all went better than expected, but I’m glad I sat in to see for myself. It’s important to monitor the younger partners. You understand, right?”
That was a lie. He was trying to assert dominance, but I stood there, unfazed, to see if he’d continue.
“But that’s not the only reason I’m here. I needed to talk to you about the upcoming office celebration.”
“Oh? What about it?”
“Well, we would like all of the senior partners to attend, and you’re the newest and youngest, so I wanted to make sure you put it on your calendar.” He pointed to my phone, but it would have been easier for him to email Ty since he was in charge of my schedule.
“Okay. I can do that. When is it?”
“Well, not so fast. I also need you to know what’s expected of you. People your age tend to imbibe a little too much at these things. But as partners, we have a level of professionalism to maintain, so please keep that in mind. We want to show the junior attorneys we have team spirit, but we’re not sloppy.” The way his eyes roamed my body, I wondered if that was a dig at me today.
Not that I could help it. I had to admit I felt reasonably good considering my circumstances.
“Right. Is that all?” I took his brief pause to cut him off to hopefully end this dreadful conversation. Did he honestly think I was that immature, or was he being a prick?
“You're welcome to bring a plus-one, but RSVP and inform Sheila so she can have an accurate head count. That will be all for now.” With that, he walked out, probably to make someone else’s day worse.
I stayed in the conference room until the lobby was Greg-free, and then headed to Ty’s desk. I needed to fill him in on my schedule updates and unwind a minute. I’d been on the go all morning, and now I could finally let myself process everything that had happened.
On my way to Ty, I stopped by the breakroom to grab coffee and a bagel. After everything that happened this morning, I hadn’t had a minute to enjoy breakfast, and my stomach was protesting.
As I approached his desk, I noticed he nervously ran a hand through his hair, making his curls stand up slightly higher. I wondered what was going on, and if it was work-related. My heart rate picked up, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
“Hey, buddy,” I said nonchalantly, but he was so jittery he almost fell out of his chair. “What’s up with you?”
“Blake! Why are you walking over here like a ninja? Usually, I can hear you coming a mile away.”
I tried not to take offense to that, especially since he seemed distraught.
“I’m sorry. My mistake for assuming saying hi was a good indicator I was here. Is everything okay?”
His eyes darted every which way except at my face. “Well…”
“Don’t start this again, Ty. I have had a rough morning. Let’s rip this Band-Aid off and get on with it.” I took a sip of my coffee and tried not to cringe at the bitterness of it.
It definitely couldn’t compare to the Viennese coffee that I ended up wearing.
“Your mom called and wants to do lunch this week. She put me on the spot, so…”
This time, I couldn’t hide my disgust. Moms were supposed to be those who loved you unconditionally and picked you up when you were down, but that was not Constance Flynn. In fact, she was more likely to be the one who knocked me down and then poked me with a stick to make sure I stayed there. Okay, that was a little dramatic, but it wasn’t entirely untrue.
Even though I exuded confidence now, it would only take minutes with my mom before she pointed out my flaws and shined a light on all my insecurities.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4 (Reading here)
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
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