Page 4 of Passionate Defense

Chapter 2

THREE MONTHS LATER...

“You need to take some deep breaths and calm down.”

“I can’t, Ethan. I know I shouldn’t let him get to me, but Walt Simons makes me so angry I’m actually shaking. See?” She stopped in the middle of their bedroom floor and held up her hands, which he could see from across the room were trembling.

Ethan watched in concern as she resumed pacing. It was becoming more common for her to come home in this agitated state. And it wasn’t only about the shit cases they kept piling on her, like the Deevers’ nightmare. From what he knew of the partners, and from the stories she’d told him, the working environment at her firm was toxic. He suggested several times it would be better for her peace of mind to find a less stressful position, but she’d put four years of her blood, sweat, and tears in at WW&S, and was on the brink of being offered a junior partnership. At least, that was the carrot they were using to get her to stay.

When she came to the end of the rug, she whirled to stride back the other way. “I know what you’re going to say. Cut my losses and get out, but I swear, Ethan, if I can get a seat at the table, I know I can make a difference.”

Ethan held his tongue and his skepticism. In his nearly two-decade-long career, he’d seen success-drunk, power-obsessed, money-hungry attorneys like Roger Wolfe, Arthur Williams, and Walt Simons before. Their kind didn’t change. And women might gain a seat at the table, but it was for appearances’ sake and to keep discrimination lawsuits to a minimum.

He didn’t like his wife working for a group of misogynist assholes. If she said the word, he’d have her packed up and moved out in a flash, but he felt strongly that it was her career and her decision. That didn’t mean he’d stand by and allow her to be abused or wouldn’t offer his opinion.

“My tolerance for their bullshit has a limit. I can’t stand seeing what working there is doing to you. If something doesn’t give to reduce the stress you’re under, it’s going to make you sick. Before that happens, I’ll step in. As your husband, I feel that is well within my rights under thein sickness and in healthclause.”

She veered off course and came toward him. It wasn’t to pull out her feminist card and tell him what he could do with his opinion. Instead, she framed his face with her hands, stood on her toes, and kissed him.

“I love how much you want to protect me, Ethan. But I need to see this through. If the day comes where their dip-shittery surpasses my naivete, I promise I’ll get out.”

He pulled her against him. Despite her reassurances, he could feel the hum of tension in her body. She had never been the Ice Queen with him—yeah, even ensconced in academia he’d heard the talk—but he suspected in their private moments together, she held back more than he would have preferred. The Massachusetts legal system and WW&S could have the Ice Queen; he wanted his wife without the mask.

But she’d given him her promise and had a real bitch of a week, so he didn’t push it further.

“How about a hot bath while I fix dinner?”

“I’m not very hungry, but the jacuzzi might bubble away some of my hostility.”

“You hop in, and I’ll bring up a glass of wine. That might help with the tension and your lack of appetite.”

Her arms encircled his neck, and she rested her cheek on his chest. “You always take such good care of me, Ethan. Thank you.”

***

THE FOLLOWING WEEK, he had an intense sense of déjà vu when he came home to find her pacing again. This time, she was wearing a rut in the den rug and shaking with anger all the same. She was also muttering to herself and hadn’t heard him come in.

“Lanie,” he called softly so as not to startle her. But she jumped and her head swung his way. “Sorry, love. You were absorbed in your solo argument. What happened now?”

“Same ole, same ole,” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “Walt Simons has it out for me, Ethan, I swear.”

“Of course he does. You turned down the opportunity to suck his illustrious dick and wouldn’t let him fuck you on his pretentious mahogany double pedestal desk. In doing so, you crushed his overinflated ego and derailed his power trip. He has made it his mission to make you pay.”

She stared at him in shock. “Professor Fischer, did you just utter the f- and d-words in the same sentence?”

---