Page 75 of Hula Girl

I’m laughing so hard that tears come to my eyes. At least, that’s what I tell myself—that the tears are from laughing. But a part of me knows this reaction is because I know that I’m going to miss him and that my life will be dimmer without him in it.

* * *

I wantedto spend the day with Ford, but he had to go back to his place where he has the proper clothes for tonight’s party and I need to spend an hour or so at the office since I have uncharacteristically neglected my work this week.

I’ve been at my desk for almost two hours when the rumbling of my stomach motivates me to get up and go to the communal kitchen. It’s always well stocked with fresh fruit, granola bars, nuts, crackers, and even assorted cheeses in the refrigerator. I make myself a plate that includes a sampling of all of these things, grab a bottle of Pellegrino, and am on my way back to my office when I hear rustling in Randall’s office.

“Couldn’t stay away, either, could you?” I ask, smiling as I push open the door.

I expect to see Randall, my mentor and boss. Instead, I see Manny Kahn.

I’m frozen in place as I take in the scene. He’s crouching down behind Randall’s big desk, almost completely hidden. Except I can see the top of his balding head, the long strips of hair that he combs back from his forehead greasy from product meant to stick it in place. And I can also see that he’s been rifling through the cabinet behind Randall’s desk.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Manny stiffens before slowly straightening up.

My hands are full of the snacks I’d helped myself to for brunch. His hands are full of papers he clearly shouldn’t have helped himself to.

“Oh, hi, Ava,” he says.

I arch a brow. “Seriously?”

“Don’t let your suspicious nature run wild,” he says with a breezy smile. “I was just retrieving some papers of mine.”

“Papers that were stored in Randall’s private cabinet?”

He takes a long moment to ignore me while he straightens the papers into a neat stack. Then he folds them in half and sticks them under his arm before kicking closed the cabinet door and heading toward me.

He stops when he’s just inches away. It’s uncomfortably close, but I don’t let him intimidate me. I stand my ground.

“I’ll be on my way now, and I’ll expect you to say no more of our little … meeting.”

I scoff. “That’s what you’llexpect?”

He had started to walk past, but now, he rears on his heel and stares daggers at me. “You would do well to remember your place, Ms. Ruiz,” he says. “An employee in your position should not question a partner as often as you do. Anyone else would see this as insubordination. It’s only because of Randall that I’m willing to let this go.”

“I am only ever looking out for Randall’s best interests,” I say. It’s the truth. When I go at Manny, I know that I’m teetering on the line of professionalism. Well, okay, I’m falling right over it. But it’s only because I have a fierce sense of wanting to protect Randall. Even if that ends up being to my detriment.

Manny studies me for a long moment. I lift my chin, waiting for him to tell me once more that I’m talking out of turn.

But he doesn’t admonish me. What he says instead takes things in a direction I hadn’t anticipated.

“Listen, I know you revere Randall.” He pauses, hesitating for a moment. “I want to be candid with you because of that. But in doing so, I need you to keep this in strict confidence.”

“Of course,” I say, snapping into professional mode.

“This may not even be news to you, I suppose. I’m sure you’ve noticed how he’s diminished in the last few months, right?” He doesn’t let me respond, which is probably good, because I would have rejected this and revealed my denial over the matter, which is not a good look for a lawyer who should be able to assess the facts of any given situation. “He’s been on a downward trajectory,” he continues. “I don’t like to see it. But it’s true. And if you want to help him, if you want to look out for his best interests, you’ll convince him to step down and let others carry this firm on in good stead.”

I can’t see past the logic in this, not when my instinct is to protect Randall. “Others? You meanyou. You’ve been gunning for power since before I started here.”

“Be that as it may,” he says, exasperated, “thisisn’thow I wanted it to end. Open your eyes and look at Randall’s recent history. He’s not himself.”

I still don’t want to accept what he’s saying. I’d rather deny it, or laugh it off, or accuse him of the lowest kind of subterfuge. I open my mouth, but Manny cuts me off.

“And don’t be naive about how others will use this against him.”

“What do you mean?”

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