Page 37 of Stalked By Pestilence

I didn’t respond. I wouldn’t. I’d been around him enough to know nothing I said would get me any place important. He’d batany attempt to get what I wanted, and I wasn’t in any mood to humor a verbal battle with him when I had the partners to slay.

He leaned in closer, but Ginny stood up with a smile and waved me over. “They’ll see you now, Ems.”

I was on my feet and leaving him in the waiting room without a backward glance.

Chapter Sixteen

Emily

Steven Banks, a fifty-something thrice divorced narcissist, and Tyson Thomas, who the staff loved to tease as the man with two first names and couldn’t remember a single name of the people he actually should, like his many hookups, stood to greet me. It wasn’t normal for either of them. They never deigned a reason to stand for someone they saw as beneath them, but both had.

“Emily! It’s so good to see you.” Steven gestured to the chair in front of his desk, professional smile slated into place and Armani suit without wrinkle or imperfection.

Doubtthat.

I took my seat anyway. I’d wait out the niceties and see first what I was dealing with. I refused to finish any work I left behind in the wake of my resignation. It wouldn’t matter if I did it or not. They’d toss it off to some overwhelmed junior associate to finish regardless, and I really hoped it wasn’t Brandy. She’d been through enough.

“Coffee, tea—”

“What’s this about?” I interjected, already over the grandstanding attempts to make me feel comfortable. “I tendered my resignation and never asked for recommendations because it’s my intention to leave this field of work. So whatever you might try, it won’t work. You won’t keep me from employment anywhere else.”

Both men quieted, having not expected me to go for the jugular right out of the gate. But they would’ve if they paid even the slightest bit of attention to me in a courtroom.

Steven glanced at Tyson before speaking again, “That wasn’t our intention at all, Emily. If anything, you’re right to have left. You deserved better from this firm.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, detecting the lies he was weaving. The ones who became partners always got cozy in their finances and power, so they lost touch with their inner shark. Or rather, their ability to conceal their flat-out lies.

“Uh-huh,” was all I said.

“And we think it’s about time that changes. We have a proposition for you. A substantial promotion package as a non-equity partner.”

I wasn’t buying it. Why now? I doubt my absence would have that much impact. I smelled a rat. They moved too fast on offering a promotion they hadn’t even tossed Darcy’s way.

“In exchange for what?” I pried.

“That you also work exclusively with our VIP client along with your responsibilities as a partner,” was the blow they came out with.

I laughed and crossed my arms. “No.”

A voice was suddenly coming through the receiver on the desk. One I hadn’t been aware was on. “Review the terms before you give your answer, Emily. And if even then you’re not open to it, I’d love a chance to meet with you myself to see what arrangement we can come to.”

The only word that came to mind for his voice was sinful. Absolute sex to the ears. It made me forget myself for a second.

“What terms?”

As if he’d been waiting for it, Tyson slid a packet over to me, his dark hair swept back from equally dark eyes.

Had he not been an absolute douche, I might’ve found him pretty. But that ship had long sailed after he spent the first year of me working at this firm calling me Evelyn or sweetheart and staring at my ass or boobs whenever he thought I wasn’t looking.

I peeked at the packet, unable to hold back my curiosity. I lifted the top page, and it sliced into my finger. I hissed and sucked on the cut. I wouldn’t miss the endless papercuts in this line of work. But I was distracted by what was on the page rather than what it’d done to my finger.

On top of it was a number not fit for a firm of this size. That many zeroes might not even be common for the Big Four. I’d seen plenty of red flags in my life, but that was the most blatant.

I stared at it. “This has to be a joke.”

“I assure you it isn’t,” the voice said from the phone on the desk. “Let me take you to dinner, and we can discuss it in greater detail.”

After regaining my wits, I shook my head. “My answer is still no. Not interested.”