wedding? She’d rather be downstairs preparing for her deposition. Hiding her irritation, she followed him into his plush office. He shut the door behind her, and she walked toward his desk, taking in his gorgeous view of the Country Club Plaza.
“Thanks for fitting me in,” he said as he gestured for her to sit in one of two leather chairs in front of his desk. “I thought you’d want to hear this.”
Now she was curious. She’d rather stand, but she was on Ben’s turf, and she suspected he was right; she wanted to hear whatever he had to tell her. She settled into a leather wingback chair while he perched on the edge of his desk.
“We’re voting on a new partner next week.”
She should have been happy to hear this, but something in his voice was off. “Why am I worried this is bad news?”
He grimaced and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Listen, you have to swear to me that you’ll never say you heard this from me.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“It’s between you and York.”
“George York?” He’d been at the firm longer than she had, but he brought in fewer billable hours. “Why would they choose him over me?”
“Look,” he stalled. “This is the sticky part that you can’t let on that you know. I’m only warning you because this affects Neil too, but I’ll get canned if they find out I said anything.”
“I won’t tell. I swear. What is it?” How bad could this be?
“Some of the partners are concerned that you’re too blunt and direct.”
She shook her head in confusion. “How is that possible? Why wouldn’t they want me to be blunt and direct?”
He shifted on the desk, looking uncomfortable. “Some of them were born before dinosaurs roamed the earth. Given the choice between a confrontational woman and a mediocre guy, they’ll pick the guy.” He shrugged. “You know how it is.”
She stood, her anger rising. “No. I don ’ t know how it is.”
He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”
He was right, but it didn’t ease her anger. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Would they rather I play nice and lose cases?”
“No, I think they just want to see you’re capable of having a softer side.”
“So they want me to bake some cookies and bring them in?” she asked, her voice rising.
“No. I’ve convinced them to hold off the vote until next week.” He paused for a moment. “Until after your wedding.”
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“The fact you’re getting married is in your favor. They want a married partner, and it’s seen as a plus that Neil’s a doctor.” He cringed. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “You already said that, and I won’t tell anyone, I swear. But if they want a married partner, why not go with me? George York isn’t married, and if the office rumor mill is to be believed, he isn’t even dating anyone.”
“Like I said, a few old—but influential—coots are worried you’re not feminine enough.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me. That’s sexist, not to mention illegal.”
His eyes hardened. “I swear to God, Blair, if you file a suit, I’ll lie through my teeth and deny it all. You’ll lose the case and your career.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Stop being such a drama king. I wouldn’t do that.” She knew it would be career suicide, but it didn’t mean she didn’t wish she could make them pay.
“Listen, it’s not all of them, and they can be swayed. All you have to do is show up at your wedding in a pretty dress and smile like a demure blushing bride. Then you’ll check the marriage box while being sweet and covered in white lace or taffeta or whatever the hell your dress is made from. You’ll be a shoo-in. I’ll make sure of it.”
She had to wonder if she wanted to be a partner. She already knew from personal past experience that some of the partners were sexist, so if the others were really