Page 60 of Worth the Wait

"If you'll excuse me," I say to Christine, setting down my untouched coffee. "I have a client call in five minutes."

My office provides little sanctuary from my turbulent thoughts. And beneath it all runs the constant, pulsing awareness of Tarryn—her proximity in the adjacent office, thelingering scent of her perfume from when she leaned over my desk earlier, the memory of her confession in the speakeasy.

Because he wasn't you.

A knock interrupts my thoughts. Christine enters without waiting for a response. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she says, closing the door with deliberate slowness. "I wanted to discuss your presentation strategy for Westfield."

"I appreciate the offer,but I have my approach well in hand. Was there something specific you needed?"

She moves fartherinto my office, fingertips trailing along the edge of my desk. The predatory grace of her movements reminds me of a jungle cat sizing up potential prey.

"I couldn't help noticingyour… connection with Tarryn seems to have deepened recently."

The direct approach surprises me—Christinetypically favors innuendo over confrontation.

"Tarrynand I work well together professionally. Our different approaches complement each other."

"Please."She dismisses the explanation with a single word, her manicured hand slicing through the air. "I've been practicing law longer than you've been shaving, Jackson. I know the difference between professional synergy and whatever is happening between you two."

My expression remainsneutral despite the internal alarms her statement triggers. "Is there a point to this conversation, Christine?"

"I'm concerned about office dynamics."She adjusts a pen on my desk, aligning it perfectly perpendicular to the edge. The precision of the movement carries its own quiet threat. "Particularly how they might affect certain… career trajectories."

"Miguel seemssatisfied with our work product. I don't see the issue."

Her smile turns predatory,a shark scenting blood in water. "The issue is that I'm aware of your relationship with Tarryn, and I'm concerned about how it might be perceived by the executive committee. Office romances rarely end well for the parties involved—particularly female attorneys with promising futures."

The thinly veiledthreat hangs between us, its implications unmistakable. I feel my jaw tighten but force my voice to remain even. "Are you suggesting you would use personal information to influence professional evaluations? That seems ethically questionable at best."

She laughs softly,the sound carrying no warmth. "Actually, I'm here to offer you an opportunity."

"An opportunity,"I repeat, instantly wary.

Christine leans forward,her voice dropping conspiratorially. "Miguel is on his way out. The partners are looking to restructure leadership, and I'm positioning myself to take over his role."

The revelation hitslike a physical blow. Miguel—our mentor, the steady presence who's guided both Tarryn and me since we arrived—being pushed out? And Christine gunning for his position? I struggle to keep shock from registering on my face.

"That seems… ambitious,"I manage, carefully choosing my words.

Her eyes flashwith something dangerous. "I've been passed over too many times, Jackson. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. The partners keep promising advancement that never materializes. I'm done waiting for what I deserve."

I make a noncommittal sound,mind racing through implications. Christine supervising both Tarryn and me would be a nightmare scenario.

"This is where you come in,"she continues, studying my face with unsettling intensity. "The partners value your opinion. You've made quite an impression in your short time here." Her voice drops lower, intimate in a way that makes my skin crawl. "A word from you about my leadership capabilities would carry significant weight."

The manipulation is soblatant it's almost laughable. Almost. "And in exchange?"

"I ensureyou get the junior counsel position instead of Tarryn." She delivers the proposition with casual cruelty, as if offering to pick up coffee. "Your talent deserves recognition, Jackson. Why let personal entanglements hold you back?"

Heat rises from my collar,anger burning through my veins. Not just at the suggestion, but at how casually she assumes I'd sacrifice Tarryn for professional advancement.

"That's quite an offer,"I say, my voice deceptively calm while rage builds beneath the surface.

She smiles,taking my response as encouragement. "I know talent when I see it. You and I could reshape this department together." Her fingertips brush my desk again, the gesture suddenly taking on a different, more intimate implication. "There are many forms of… productive partnership."

The suggestion ignitessomething fierce within me. Not just for myself, but for how she's attempting to use Tarryn as disposable collateral.

"Let me be perfectly clear, Christine,"I say, each word precise as a scalpel. "Whatever you think you know about my personal life is irrelevant to professional evaluations. And if you attempt to use speculation or innuendo to influence firm decisions—or Miguel's position—I'll ensure the ethics committee understands exactly what kind of 'leadership' you're offering."

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