Page 20 of Passionate Defense

“Steven. He can hardly wait. If he doesn’t come to a complete stop in your driveway, be prepared to tuck and roll.”

The two friends burst into gales of silly laughter, drawing more curious looks and some amused smiles from the other patrons. They were still giddy when Steven collected them ten minutes later.

Chapter 5

WITH HER BOX OF BELONGINGSin hand, which was appallingly small after four years in the same office, Lanie punched the elevator button for the third time. While waiting for the exceptionally slow car, she impatiently tapped her foot. Her gaze kept shifting to the door leading to the stairwell. She considered taking them briefly but quickly discarded the notion. Fourteen floors in heels—uh, maybe not.

She stabbed at the button once more, eager to see the last of Wolfe, Williams, and Simons—most especially Simons. While outwardly displaying a stoic demeanor, inwardly she grappled with a rising tide of emotions. Her rage tasted bitter on her tongue, burning her throat like acid, and she had half-moons in her palms from her nails and clenched fists. Just once, she’d like to let one fly into the nasty leering face of Walt Simons.

She’d had her chance when he called her into his office twenty minutes ago. Instead, when the meeting had quickly gone south, she’d ground her pointed heel into his hand-tooled Italian loafer, enjoying his yelp of pain as she flung off his groping hand on her ass.

“Don’t leave angry, sexy Lanie,” he’d called as she strode for the door. “If you’re nice to me, I’ll see what I can do about a nice severance package.”

With her hand on the knob, she turned and let her eyes dip down his body, stopping below his belt with a smirk. “Trust me, Walt. Whatever meager package you could offer wouldn’t be worth my attention.” With that set down leveled, his round face turned beefy red, and a vein popped out on his forehead. Not a good look for him.

Dismissing him, she flung the door wide.

“Frigid bitch,” he called after her. “Your husband’s dick must get frostbite when he fucks you.”

Lanie laughed, genuinely amused for the first time that day. “That’s rich. Ethan Fischer is a god compared to you, and his dick makes me melt like honey from the comb. He’s the kind of man who doesn’t have to threaten and manipulate women to sleep with him.” She threw one last remark over her shoulder. “See you in court, Walt. I’ll be the frigid bitch kicking your ass.”

Having purged a small fraction of her anger, she sedately walked out. Seeing two of the legal secretaries huddled by the door, she smiled. Good, that exit line deserved an audience. Moreover, Walt the Pig deserved to be grist for the office gossip mill for days to come.

A voice calling her name yanked her back to the present. She ignored whoever it was, shifted her purse to the other shoulder, and punched the button yet again. The freaking elevator seemed to be stuck on the ninth floor and the stairs were looking better by the minute.

“Lanie, wait a sec.”

Looking up, she saw Beth, also an associate at the firm, and Trudy Blakely, the office manager, heading her way.

“Holy Shih Tzu, girl,” her friend exclaimed. “I can’t believe they let you go!”

“The partners are idiots,” Trudy hissed, clearly pissed on her behalf. “You’re the only one winning cases. If they’d give you ones that actually paid, they wouldn’t have had to cut the staff’s Christmas bonuses.”

“I’m furious and ready to walk out in solidarity,” Beth declared.

“That goes for a bunch of us,” Trudy disclosed.

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