Page 32 of Hunt Me
“You’re a very intelligent woman, Ms. Rork. That’s clear to see. I do hope at some point you’ll learn and accept that looking the other way is often an excellent attribute.”
“I can’t do that.” At least I was being honest.
“Understood. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll?—”
“Let me stop you right there. You don’t think I’ll be the best fit for your organization. Right?”
His smirk pissed me off. “That is correct. However, I’m positive you’ll find the right firm, Ms. Rork. You’re highly intelligent and come from a very good family. You’ll just need to alter your standards to do so. The world wasn’t created in shades of black and white only. Understanding the world must be seen as gray will provide success. Anything else will spell failure. Perhaps that’s something your father didn’t teach you, which is sadly why he won’t be successful in this town.”
Alter my standards. I could take his comment in several ways and maybe I was wrong, but it seemed as if he was telling me that anyone could be bought for a price. Maybe I was doomed to remain an assistant for the rest of my life.
I also had a feeling he was directing his animosity toward my father. In the whirlwind of interviews, it seemed the perspective employers had simply wanted to provide a message I could relay to my father. My dad had a hardnose reputation, his attention to detail delaying several major developments for months. My mother had told me they’d received several anonymous threats, which hadn’t bothered my father in the least.
He thought he could take on Goliath and win.
“I’ll be happy to provide your… sentiment to my father, Mr. Jenkins. However, as far as losing my sense of the law and its intent, that’s not going to happen. I believe in the law. In right and wrong. Good versus evil. I refuse to lower my standards for anyone. Thank you for your time and I’m also certain you’ll find the right person to be your lackey. I’m just not that girl.”
Yep, burning bridges 101. When my feathers were ruffled, I didn’t care how many explosives I used.
As I walked out with my head held high, I had a strong and strange feeling the man had dropped a clue. Or maybe he’d been issuing a low-lying threat. Whatever the case, something was off with either my presentation or my values.
Which I refused to lower.
For anyone.
CHAPTER 8
Bristol
“Sweetheart. There you are. I’m so glad to see you.”
“Hi, Dad. Good to see you too.” I was weary from the interview, my stomach grumbling, and ready to chew nails given the conversation with Mr. Jenkins. What was wrong with everyone in this town?
“I understand you were in a wedding over the weekend.”
When he lifted his eyebrow, I sensed he was none too happy. I’d purposely not told him because my father had consistently challenged my friendships for as long as I could remember. “I was. Everything was magical.” My words dripped of disdain.
His sigh was heavier than normal. “I’ve never tried to steer you away from friendships before, Bristol, but I will this time. You should stay away from the Dmitriyev family.”
“And why is that?”
“Let’s just say they are dangerous people who’ve done some very bad things in their lives.”
“Lilia was my roommate.”
“Yes, I’m aware. I didn’t say anything at the time because I knew how you’d react.”
Cocking my head, I allowed him to see me rolling my eyes. “Lilia is going to be an attorney, Dad. Good versus evil? Are you feeding into the rumor they’re organized crime?”
“I was a prosecutor for years, my sweet child.”
“That was in Los Angeles.”
“Word gets around. I don’t think the Dmitriyev family appreciates my leadership style.”
“If they’re so bad, why aren’t they in prison?” I wasn’t going to burst his bubble by saying that he wasn’t particularly well liked in this town.
He nodded to a chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, Bristol.”
