Read Lawfully Yours for Free Online

argued.
    “We’re paying you very good money. Don’t you think so, Pat?”
    “Very good money,” Pat echoed.
    The United States’ Synchronized Torture Team. If I were one of the sport’s judges, I would have given them the gold. Very good money? Were they kidding? With the increased schedule I re-calculated my per hour wage. Work until eleven or twelve at night? I don’t think so.
    “Pat, Helen,” I heard myself saying, “I quit.”
    Not thinking of the subsequent consequences, it felt good.
    I walked out of the office. The firm was physically small so I was sure the staff heard everything. They didn’t say anything to me, so I left without a single good-bye.
    I had already left one bad situation. Am I in another? Grovas & Cleval is better, yes. At least Jordan Grant pays me well and attempts pleasantries on occasion. I don’t have to deal too much with his staff. I’m left alone to do my work. The isolation is the same, but at least the situation is professionally better.
    I have to speak with Jordan. I dread our meetings because it’s always an uncomfortable situation for me. He never looks at me when we’re talking. His eyes stay glued to his computer, smart phone, or whatever document he’s working on. I tried not taking it personally. Not much luck with that. Am I really that bad to deal with? Was my last firm right about me? Taking a deep breath, I knock on his door and walk into his office.
    “Hi, Jordan. You said for me to come talk to you.”
    “Yeah. A minute,” he says blandly without looking up.
    It’s true—he doesn’t think I’m worth his time or attention. My hands quiver as I try to control my temper. What I’m about to do is going to be harmful to my professional health. But I have to stand up for myself, just like I did when I quit Stone & Sommers.
    God, I am going to regret this. Pride should not override one’s natural instinct to protect against poverty.
    I hesitate long enough to cool down—at least a smidgen. “You know, Jordan, I really go out of my way not to bother you. I don’t ask you a bunch of stupid questions. I figure out almost everything myself. So when you ask for a meeting but you don’t want to give me your attention, I get frustrated.”
    “You don’t hold back on saying what you feel, do you?”
    Believe me, I am holding back. I just look at him. At least one of us has no problem making eye contact.
    “Okay,” he says. He puts down his pen, folds his arms, and looks directly at me. “I’m listening.”
    This catches me off guard. Pleasantly. “When I was at town hall, I heard the P & Z clerk say our proposal will be rejected because the homes are too close together.”
    “Are you sure they were talking about our proposal?”
    “I saw our plans on the counter while they were discussing it.”
    “Okay, that is very critical information.” He pauses. “Really, I’m sorry. I should act better. In fact, I’ll start now. Let’s get out of the office for a few minutes. I’ll buy you a coffee.”
    “But we have coffee in the break room.”
    “We have iced mocha in our break room? Really? I didn’t know that.”
    I smile. Amazing—he looks even more attractive when he’s being sociable. The warm look on his face suddenly makes me feel hot in places I don’t want to think about. Shit. “Er, where are we going?” I ask, forcing my mind to stay focused. And my body to stay celibate.
    “Around the block to the schmancy new coffee joint that opened up, Java Mama.”
    “It’s Java Lava.”
    “Whatever. I hear it’s a cool place to get coffee. Do you need your coat?” When I shake my head he chuckles and says, “Right. We’ll be brave against the elements.”
    So he really does have the ability to be personable. I follow him downstairs and out of the building. The weather outside is frosty but tolerable. Trotting after him, my breath forms foggy clouds. “You’ve got long legs. Wait for me!” I laugh, despite the awkwardness of now having a