Page 79 of Just A Little Fling

“You don’t fit in, and you’ve never understood the firm’s culture or our clients.”

Weatherly hefted himself from the chair and headed to my office door. When he reached the door, I finally got an answer. “Peterson will be taking over as firm contact for Mrs. Wellington-Chaumont. Submit her name as new counsel and close it out. The rest of your cases will be divided up by the end of the week. You’ll need to notify me by the end of the day if there are any cases you can’t be substituted on and prepare your briefs on how to address the issues. Submit continuances as needed.”

The meaning of his words stung regardless of my previous realization. The ultimatum was a rebuke, and I was now gainfully unemployed.

“I’ll apologize on your behalf for not finding a way to make that happen.”

“Do what you need to do.”Goddammit.“What about Jack?”

Weatherly’s eyes narrowed before he answered, “His services won’t be needed anymore.”

“He gets a twelve-month severance in advance and an excellent reference. It’s nonnegotiable.”

“That’s fucking ridiculous. And if we refuse?”

“Then I air the firm’s dirty laundry. Your bullshit might not be illegal, but you’ll be tied up by ethics complaints and dirty laundry gossip.”

“This spine would’ve been more useful to you years ago.”

With that, Weatherly opened the door and slammed it behind him on the way out. I intended to begin drafting motions to withdraw, but I got sidetracked with unhelpful thoughts about what the fuck I was going to do with the rest of my life. Take up yoga? Sail around the world? Move back to Yakima and annoy my mother because I had, quite literally, nothing better to do? All viable options.

The only pressing issue I truly had was whether the entire firm needed to be told to go fuck themselves. Sadly, there were some pretty significant drawbacks to my plan. The first was that not all my clients were assholes, so I wanted their transition to a new attorney to be as painless as possible. Second, if I told them to get fucked, Jack would most certainly get screwed in the process, and I refused to let him be collateral damage. And three, I’d be in a metric shit-ton of trouble with my license. Unfortunately, I wasn’t burning down the world today. Since there wouldn’t be any dramatic blow-ups on my part, I grabbed my jacket and headed for my office door.

“Hey, Jack, it’s take your assistant to lunch day. Are you up for it?”

“Free food? Free is my favorite price.”

“Any preferences on where you want to go? I would suggest someplace a little farther away from the office.” Jack looked at me with discerning eyes. I couldn’t tell if he’d actually figured out what was happening or if he just knew me well enough to know I was pissed. It was probably a combination of the two.

“I never eat around here, so I have no preferences.”

“How about Stone and Vine then? My friend Owen’s…you’ve met him…boyfriend owns it.”

“I’ve never been there, but if you like it, then it’s fine with me.”

“It’s fantastic. You’re gonna love it.”

“There’s worse places to get bad news than over good food.”

Goddammit.

* * *

When in doubt, I always worked in my garden. In the name of modesty, I downplayed the extent of puttering, but I’d poured blood, sweat, and tears into every square inch of my garden. Toxic masculinity could fuck right off because I loved my bright, colorful flowers.

The new roses by the front walkway were growing nicely, and I’d added a few hostas to cover the roots. My perennial daisies were getting bigger every year, but I needed to find some space for the sunflowers I was going to add for Nico. When he brought Nonna over for a visit, I thought she might like to sit back there and enjoy them.

Telling Jack he’d been fired had gutted me. The twelve-month severance helped, but that wasn’t a job and wouldn’t last forever. It also wasn’t guaranteed until the check was in his hand. With no spouse or kids, I’d squirreled away plenty of money since leaving law school, so I wasn’t concerned about myself. My savings would last me well over a year if I drained the account to nothing. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but my cushion was enough that I could think about the next steps without too much urgency.

“Babbo, you’re home early.” I’d been so lost in thought about my garden planning and the rest of my life that I hadn’t noticed Nico’s car pull into the driveway.

“Yeah, I didn’t have a reason to stay at work today, so I cut out early.”

“Does that mean the case that’s been bothering you got worked out?” I appreciated the look of excitement Nico gave me, even if it was unfounded. Nico sat next to me on the grass—his lavender suit be damned—and started pulling weeds with me.

“Unfortunately, no. But it’s not my problem anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t it be your problem anymore?” he asked, clearly confused.

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