Page 9 of Take the Bait

The raspy voice continued, “You’re the one we want. Screw her lights out if you feel like it. That’s why we hire females like her.”

4

Dani froze. She would never be able prove it in court. She had no recording of the conversation. Their word against hers.

Who belonged to that raspy voice?

She sidled around the palm trees and peeked around the corner, searching for the tall, sun-streaked locks of Cam Townsend, asshole extraordinaire, and whatever senior member of the firm was apparently trying to pimp her out to attorneys like Townsend whom they were hoping to hire.

Damn! No sign of Cam or his conversation partner. They must have moved off into the crowd while she’d been regaining the ability to breathe.

Eyes narrowed, she plowed into the crowd, a woman on a mission. She might be swimming in the big shark tank now, but she wasn’t entirely without teeth of her own. And hey, she could always screw Cam Townsend into telling who’d said he could have her.

There he was. Cam was holding court for some of the associates who’d survived their first year at the firm. For the first time, she registered that there were no women among them. Funny that.

In fact, now that she thought about it, there was a decided dearth of young female lawyers around here. Sure, there were a few gruff female battle axes in the mid-level offices, but that was about it. How come she hadn’t noticed that when she’d interviewed here? Probably because there were plenty of women legal secretaries and paralegals roaming the halls.

She reached for the top button of her silk blouse and undid it, pulling the neck open. What the hell. She undid the second button, too. So mad she could spit, she pulled her blouse to the side far enough for her lace trimming her bra cup to peek out. Too bad it was conservative white and not bright red.

She fluffed up her hair and bit her lips as she approached the cluster of laughing young men hanging on Cam’s every word.

“Hey, Dani,” one of her co-workers called out. “Have you met Cam Townsend? Avoid him like the plague in court if you want to keep your batting average up.”

Her gaze snapped to Cam’s, and on cue he smirked. She snapped, “My bat’s heavy and hard. Perfect for smashing balls.”

The crowd hooted, and she marched away from the sycophants. Badly in need of escape, she ducked down a long hallway and all but ran to the ladies’ rest room. She ducked into the plush washroom and leaned against the counter, fighting back tears of impotent rage. The bastards had hired her for her tits? And they planned to fire her in less than a year?

After all those years of grueling work, slogging through law school, working humiliating part-time jobs to cover what her student loans didn’t, barely sleeping, no time for any kind of social life, let alone dating…she’d given up everything to get herself through law school. Hell, she’d even turned down a couple decent offers from smaller law firms upstate to work at a big, prestigious one in New York City. And now this.

No way could she quit this job. Hiring season was over for this year’s crop of new law school grads, and jobs were super hard to come by with way too many new lawyers clawing their way into a tight job market.

Not to mention she had to start paying on her student loans now that she’d graduated, and no way could she cover her loan payments and, oh, rent, flipping burgers at a fast-food chain. She was well and truly trapped.

She would not cry. She was running with the big boys now, and girls didn’t get to act like girls.

Turning to the Italian marble sink, she splashed water on her face and rinsed out her mouth with the complimentary mouthwash sitting on the counter beside the expensive hand lotion. She was never drinking another martini as long as she lived. They were foul concoctions, and furthermore, she was fairly sure they would put hair on her chest if she kept drinking them.

She burped, and acidic booze burned the back of her throat as bad as if she’d sucked on a flamethrower. She swiped away the resulting tears of distress.

It turned out belching gin and vermouth through Kool-Aid sweet wine ethers was even more disgusting than downing one of the evil martinis neat. Her stomach heaved alarmingly.

She grabbed a big handful of pastel mints candies from the bowl on the counter and jammed them in her mouth. The sweet mints calmed her stomach and made the interior of her mouth tolerable. She swished water around in her mouth again and spit it out. Whew. Humanity restored.

The cherry wood ladies’ room door swung open and she pasted on a polite smile for whoever walked in—Cam.

She declared sharply, “This is the ladies’ room, Kemosabe.”

His baby blues narrowed in irritation. He must know that the word did not mean “friend” as the Lone Ranger had believed but had actually meant ‘horse’s rear end.’

Excellent. What was the point of insulting a person if it went right over their head?

“What the hell is your problem with me?” he demanded. “When did I piss in your Wheaties?”

She glared at him as he took an aggressive step toward her. “This is, in fact, the ladies’ room. You need to leave.”

“Is anyone else in here?” he demanded.

She glanced at the row of open stall doors. “No. Why?”

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