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Catherine Bybee,
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Cindi Madsen,
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are members of the PTA, they’re church or Scout leaders. And with these community connections, these same attorneys can bring in business. A lot of business.” He paused to level those piercing blue eyes on her.
Contacts. Social connections. Family. Did it always come down to that? Instead of plain old hard work and dedication? But she only nodded.
“You’re single, no children, and from what I’ve seen, no visible ties to any outside organization, which in the past when the topic of making you partner was broached has been a point of discussion. Until now.”
She blinked. Until now? What had changed?
Tim actually cracked a smile. “Word is that you’ve recently become involved with someone. Something pretty serious.”
How on earth did this kind of information spread? She said one little word to Michael and suddenly she’s the latest gossip. Typical.
Before she could comment on the truth or fiction of this latest tidbit, Tim continued, “I think that’s great news. You’re not getting any younger and, truthfully, your lack of male companionship has been noted and commented on.” He actually chuckled and Kate had an image of the eight stuffy male attorneys who made up the senior partners, sitting around the conference board trying to determine her sexuality.
“And now with this McKenna case, you’ll have that extra boost to send you over the top. You know, Mark McKenna and his family have been clients since this firm originated. You’d do well to bring your best game. Anyway, I just wanted to share the good news with you.” Tim stood. “Well, I look forward to meeting the guy. He’ll be coming to the fall retreat with you, right?”
She coughed, trying to find her voice. “We’re still working the details out, but I’ll do my best.”
He stared at her. Hard, with a penetrating, laser-like focus. “You do that. Just remember everything I said.”
Kate stared at the open door long after Tim left.
To think. Four years as an undergraduate in the top 10 percent while working full-time to pay the bills. Three years of painstaking, competitive work in law school and two grueling summer clerkships. Five years of burning the midnight oil at the firm to be number one in billable hours among the other associates. But all of that, apparently, wasn’t what might be the clincher to her getting that promotion.
This was the twenty-first century. How could one’s marital status still be so pivotal?
And what would the senior partners say if they discovered she was actually single? Without the impending social connections a marriage and kids and family might bring with it…
She risked losing it all.
Which meant, for the time being, she’d play along. Keep up the pretense that she had some guy devoted to her who might even now be checking out engagement rings. As to the retreat…she’d come up with something. Heck, half of the spouses usually stayed home for some reason or another. She’d be no different. Yes. She could make this work and, in the meantime, win the McKenna case, making it easier for everyone to overlook the tragic news when her “boyfriend” dumped her. Or she dumped him—whichever.
She just needed to buy time.
…
It was like a warehouse. One large, endless warehouse that—she inhaled deeply—smelled funny.
It was also packed. Who knew so many people would have the urgent need to purchase rakes and paint and God knew what else on a brisk Saturday morning when they could be at home enjoying coffee and a good book—or, in her case, a brief?
“You’ll definitely want to have this socket wrench set in your tool box,” Dominic said and dropped the item next to the hammer, drill, picture hanging kit, and a bunch of other items of which she’d already forgotten the names. She liked to think it was just the overwhelming amount of stuff she’d never heard of before that had her mind drawing a blank.
But that was only half of it.
As Dominic bent down on his haunches to stare at
David Cook, Walter (CON) Velez