Page 69 of Hula Girl

“Yes,” he finally says. “Shall we?” He holds out one arm to gesture toward the door and uses his other to guide me by the small of my back.

His presumptuous touch puts a pep in my step, and I move through the expansive office space to create some distance between us. I don’t know where I’m going as I pass by rows of secretaries directly outside of glass offices, none of which contain Ford.

“Why don’t we step in here,” he says, stopping at an empty conference room.

Before I can question why we’d make this detour, he pulls open the glass door and steers me inside. It’s a mid-size space with an oblong table large enough for ten padded-leather chairs. There are two seventy-inch plasma screens on the wall at one end of the room and what appears to be a catering spread of sandwiches and beverages leftover from an earlier meeting on a built-in countertop at the opposite side of the room.

“I’m glad we have a minute here, Ava,” he says.

I’ve turned my eyes to the view of the city through the floor to ceiling windows. It’s an impressive sight. I’d guess that’s at least part of why we’ve ducked into this space. He wants to show me his success. But he wasn’t counting on the sour smell of the roast beef sandwiches in the corner. The contrast feels very like my understanding of who he is through Ford’s description. He’s preoccupied with appearances, and yet refuses to acknowledge what’s right under his nose.

“You went to Southwestern, is that right?” he continues.

Turning to him, I fix a blank expression on my face. His knowing which law school I went to is probably only the tip of the iceberg. He’s probably done more research on me than that. I keep my own counsel, as the expression goes, by remaining silent.

“Yes, well, that’s what I hear anyway,” he continues. “It’s a nice success story for a disadvantaged girl from Boyle Heights.” He tries for an amiable smile, but it does nothing to offset the condescending remark he tried to pass off as a compliment.

There’s nothingdisadvantagedabout me. I didn’t grow up with the wealth he has, but I had what matters—a loving, supportive family. Still, I don’t strike back. Instead, I keep biting my tongue, letting him reveal more of his motives in diverting me to this meeting room.

“Randall sure speaks highly of you.” He chuckles. “And he’s tickled that it seems he’s to thank for you and my boy getting together. I mean, if you hadn’t tripped up in that deposition, you’d never have even gone to Maui.”

Wow. He went right for my weak spot.

Or at least, that’s what he thinks my weak spot is. That I made one error—and not even a significant error in the grand scheme of things—at work is not something he can hurt me with. What kind of lawyer would I be, after all, if I wasn’t able to recover from that?

“It was definitely … fortuitous,” I say.

He raises his eyebrows at my choice of words. And it was a deliberate choice. He thinks he has the upper hand here, but I can see where he’s going. I can see it a mile away.

“You do know about Ford’s plan to resign, don’t you?” he asks.

I nod.

“So, then you know that the very generous paychecks of this firm will cease.”

And there it is, just as I suspected. He thinks adisadvantagedgirl like me can only want one thing from his son: money. Never mind the fact that I have my own successful career.

“I don’t want or need his paycheck,” I say.

“Is that so?”

“Not that I need to share this with you, but I make a good living.”

“I’m sure you do … fine.” He says the word “fine” as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “But he will soon have nothing from this firm. No income, just so we’re clear.”

I’ve had enough of his emphasis on this point. Time to disabuse him of the antiquated, sexist notion that all I’m after is landing a rich husband.

Just then, Ford—myFord—pulls open the door and steps in, eyeing us both warily as he tries to assess what he’s interrupted. But I don’t let that stop me from what I say next.

“It’s okay if he’s penniless,” I say. “I’m not after his money, after all.”

“No?” Senior looks skeptical.

“Nope.” I shrug. “I’m after his phenomenal legal mind. You’re really going to miss his skills once he and I partner up.”

“Partner up?” he asks with an arched brow.

“Marriage is a partnership, isn’t it?”

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