Page 50 of Master Debater

Until the phone on my desk rang. Not a transferred call either, so Madison must’ve gone home. Usually, she checked in before heading out, but I’m sure she hadn’t wanted to interrupt. I appreciated that too, even if it left me to answer the phones. If I hadn’t cast a wide net in hopes for help with one of my cases, I would’ve let it roll to voicemail, but since I was the one requesting information, I sighed and picked up the call.

“Fox, Hollis, and Associates. This is Nate.”

“Ah, I was prepared to leave a message. I like that you work late hours, though. That makes me think I’ve called the right attorney for the job.” The man went on to introduce himself, and I worked to hide my overeager surprise when it ended up being the chairman and CEO of one of the biggest biotech companies, not just in the state but the nation.

I launched into salesman mode, where my firm and I were the commodity, rattling off stats and assuring him my team and I could handle the case for the Fortune 500 company. We set up a meeting, and by the end of the call, my body was buzzing with the enormity of everything a client like them could mean.

“Good news?” Willa asked, and for a second, I got distracted at the way her lips were wrapped around the straw of her drink.

“Beyond good. I can’t go into details, but it’s possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me and the firm. If they hire me to represent them—and they will once they meet with me—it’ll land me so far above my uncles that they’ll need a telescope to see me.” I slapped a palm on the desk, victory flowing through my bloodstream in sublime bursts. “I can’t wait to shove this in their faces.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you’re happy.”

Why didn’t she sound happy? “I don’t think you understand what this means.”

“I get it, I do. As much as I can from an outside perspective anyway. I’m excited for you, and not surprised in the least a big important company wants you as their lawyer. It’s just that…” She reached up and fiddled with her earring, which she did when she was nervous, and that made me nervous. “Rylee was talking to me about your uncles the other day when she came over to talk about her breakup. I totally understand that what they did was super messed up, but she told me they kept trying to apologize, and I can tell that she misses them. I thought you might miss them too. And now I feel like I let my anger get the best of me that night at the exhibit. I shouldn’t have butted in. I should’ve allowed them to say their piece.”

Wait. What? Where was that coming from? “No way. There’s not a damn thing they could say to make me change my mind, and that spiel you gave was perfection. I couldn’t have said it better myself, and it was at that moment that I knew, without a doubt, that I’d never be able to let you go.”

She nodded, so much hesitation that it gave the gesture a different meaning. What, exactly, I wasn’t sure, besides the fact that it didn’t signify agreement of any kind. “Is that your primary goal for taking on another big case? To get one over on your uncles? You’re already so busy, and I worry you’re going to work yourself half to death, if not all the way.”

“I’ll be fine. This has been three years in the making, Willa. I vowed to show Gil and Bobby what they lost, and to make them pay for shitting on my dad’s legacy, and I’m so close to making it a reality I can taste it.”

Normally, I wouldn’t use the phrase “rue the day.” But for my uncles, I’d make an exception.

They’d rue the day. I guaran-fucking-teed it.

Chapter 28

Willa

Over the past week and a half, I’d been reduced to the nosy neighbor who peered out her blinds at the tiniest of sounds, desperate to see the comings and goings.

Mostly, the comings and goings of the man who lived in the other portion of the duplex. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet I swore all he ever did was the going part. Early in the morning, before I’d even had my coffee.

The man had basically turned me into a nymphomaniac and declared all my orgasms belonged to him, only to disappear for a few weeks after agreeing to give a relationship a shot. Unfair to say the least.

Hell, we’d had more sex before agreeing to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and wasn’t the entire point of that to prevent feelings of loneliness and frustration? I could fully admit the sexual frustration wasn’t exactly a picnic. There was no eating me out; no tasting him on my lips. No sprawling out on blankets, the afterglow of our steamy sessions feeling a hell of a lot like basking in the sunshine.

I’d been tempted to film myself with one of the toys that’d spilled onto the sidewalk the night we met and send it to him, just to see if that would be enough to incite him to return home at a decent time—if that’d be enough to awaken his domineering side so he’d rush over and spank me the way he used to before we were officially a couple.

A couple who rarely spent time together.

If it was only the lack of physical intimacy, I was fairly certain I could deal. Mostly, anyway. But as Nathan grew busier and busier and took longer and longer to return messages, I recognized myself veering into territory I promised myself I’d never go into again. The territory where I did all the messaging, nudging, and general effort involved in keeping the relationship going.

I’d received a few texts in the hours between one or two, with the words “You still up?” All that time waiting for a response, only to receive one during booty-call hours. If I had been awake for either one, I doubted I would’ve been strong enough to refrain from rushing over anyway.

When he texted me the third evening, it’d at least been at nine, and I took leftover stew to his place when he said he hadn’t had dinner yet. He gave me an update on Rylee—she’d taken a plea bargain—and told me that Doxon, the giant biopharmaceutical and biotech company, had hired him as their legal counsel.

No surprise that others wanted Nate as badly as I did, and I’d congratulated him, legitimately thrilled for his and his firm’s success. Then he’d gotten a phone call, and I lost him for another hour.

Not that I had any experience, but I assumed it felt like being the less-famous member in a band, where one person got all the lyrics and fame, and the other one—AKA, me—remained in the shadows, a gut feeling telling you that one day, they’d go solo and leave you in the dust. I’d always been of the opinion everyone who contributed was of equal importance, but the lead singers were the most renowned and got all the best lines. In this scenario, Nathan was definitely more of a Beyonce than I’d ever be.

But I digress…

The night I brought him dinner and sat by his side during his phone calls, stress had radiated off him in waves. When I asked if I could help, he’d replied with a curt “no” and the emptiness forming within me yawned wider.

After spending the night there, mostly silent until we’d had sex and fallen asleep, caused me to be so exhausted I’d slipped up at work. A student had to correct me in the middle of the class I’d been teaching, and while I would never claim to know everything, it’d been such a simple, basic term I still experienced residual embarrassment.

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