Page 75 of Worth the Wait

Forty minutes later, we stride through Blake Financial's eerily quiet Saturday morning lobby. The elevator ride is silent, her hand finding mine for a brief, reassuring squeeze before the doors open on our floor. Miguel is waiting in his office, expression unreadable as we enter.

"Tarryn, Jackson," he greets us with a nod, gesturing to the chairs across from his desk. "Thank you for coming in on a Saturday."

"Of course," Tarryn replies, sliding into her seat. "You mentioned something about Christine?"

Miguel leans back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "Yes. After our conversation the other day, I received someinterestinginformation. So, like a good lawyer, I conducted some additional investigation into Christine's past."

My stomach tightens, unsure where this is heading. Beside me, Tarryn sits perfectly still, only the slight whitening of her knuckles against the chair arm revealing her tension.

"What I found was concerning," Miguel continues. “Beyond some pretty damning lies that were swept under the rug by her former firm, which I plan to address with them later, apparently she’s had some blackmail accusations made against her.”

"That matches our experience," I confirm, careful to keep accusation from my tone.

Miguel nods. "I confronted Christine with this evidence last night. After a lengthy discussion, I not only fired her, but I reported her to the bar and filed a complaint against Miller & Walsh.”

“Holy shit,” Tarryn blurts out, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. She glances over at me and I shake my head as if to say,it wasn’t me who said anything.

“Yeah, exactly.” He exhales loudly. “I feel like an idiot for not seeing it sooner, but the fact her firm covered up her affair with a managing partner really fucking threw me off.”

“I—wow,” is all I can say.

“For the sake of gossip,” Miguel adds, running his hand down his sleep-deprived face, “let’s just keep this all between us okay? If anyone asks about her, direct them to me. Understood?”

“Understood,” we say simultaneously, nodding our heads.

“There's something else I want to discuss with both of you. I hadn’t planned to yet, but in light of everything…”

Tarryn straightens slightly beside me, professional alertness replacing relief. "Oh?"

Miguel's expression shifts to something more positive as he reaches for two folders on his desk. "The partners met last night to discuss the junior counsel position, along with several other strategic appointments."

My pulse quickens. This is it. I find myself reaching for Tarryn's hand without conscious thought, offering silent support for whatever comes next.

"Tarryn," Miguel says, sliding one folder toward her. "The partners have unanimously approved your appointment as junior counsel for the Chicago office, effective immediately."

Her intake of breath is sharp, genuine surprise lighting her features. "Thank you,” is all she can manage.

"Your work on the Westfield contract has been exemplary," Miguel continues.

Pride swells in my chest as I squeeze her hand. She deserves this recognition. She has worked tirelessly for it since long before I arrived at Blake Financial. Her accomplishment feels like my own, any competitive instinct completely dissolved in the face of her well-earned success.

"Jackson." Miguel turns to me, sliding the second folder across his desk. "The partners are creating a new division focused specifically on international clients, building on the framework you and Tarryn developed for Westfield's global expansion."

I accept the folder, curiosity mixing with anticipation. "A new division?"

"With you as division lead," Miguel confirms. "Initially operating from Chicago, but with eventual relocation to our New York office as the practice expands. We need someone withyour strategic vision and negotiation skills to build something substantial."

The opportunity is extraordinary—career-defining in ways I couldn't have anticipated. A leadership position with international focus, the chance to build something from the ground up.

Yet even as excitement builds, reality intrudes. New York. Relocation. Away from Chicago. Away from Tarryn, just when we've found our way back to each other.

Miguel must read my hesitation. "The timeline is flexible," he adds. "We'd anticipate the full transition happening within twelve to eighteen months, allowing adequate time for establishing foundations here before building the New York presence."

I nod, mind racing through implications, possibilities, complications. "This is an incredible opportunity, Miguel. Thank you."

"You've both earned these advancements," he says simply. "The partners and I have complete confidence in your abilities to excel in these roles."

As we leave his office, I notice Tarryn's expression has shifted from initial excitement to something more troubled.

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