Last Updated: 3/28/2024 Last of the additional chapters written for this story.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

March 22nd, 8:13 PM
The day had gone by in a blur, and I was mentally drained but happy to be heading home with Paul rather than back to my place on the bus. Getting out of work two hours earlier than I expected was certainly a bonus, though I'd fully expected another 9 p.m. exit given the prep Gina and I needed to get done before Thursday. Gina had knocked off at 7 PM due to needing to attend a family function and told me to wrap it up also; she didn't get any arguments from me!

She and I had been pretty much attached at the hip all day except for bathroom breaks. Gina ordered lunch in for us, which was a relief because I hadn't packed anything to bring after staying at Paul's last night. We ate in silence, not even talking about something as generic as the weather, before we were back to work. I felt like I’d been a prisoner most of the day in her office. And as usual, she was tough, stern, and prickly, but I admitted to Paul as we made our way out of the Seattle, I was actually learning a lot.

As a mentor, and I doubt she knew I saw her that way, she was very good about explaining her thought process for solving the legal challenges of this ethics case. I told Paul I could see why Jacob put so much trust in her. She was still a bit scary to me, but I was getting used to her gruffness.

On the way home, we stopped for dinner at a teriyaki restaurant down the street from Paul’s place. I got spicy chicken teriyaki, and he ordered Kung Po chicken with spicy crispy noodles. I might have insisted on sharing after he offered me a taste. He was a good sport about it, and I might have eaten more of his meal than my own, which was decent, but his Kung Po with those spicy noodles! Lordy! It was so damn good, or maybe I was just really hungry?!

I did have another hunger I was hoping he'd help satisfy. Let’s call that dessert, I thought smiling, taking a quick peek in his direction as he drove the last block.

"You going to want to go out for a run tonight," he asked as we were turning onto the street he lived.

"I should, but I'm..."

"Oh crap," he interrupted me, the concern heavy in his voice.

He'd startled me, and my head snapped back towards him.

"What! What is it?!" I couldn't see anything on the road or...

"Look, ah... That's my mom's car in my driveway." He said as he pulled over to the curb about half way down the block from his townhouse.

"Your mom?!" I barked with more force in the ask than intended.

He was looking at me, "I was not expecting her to be here. My dad might even be with her, I’m not sure."

He sounded even more concerned now and I didn't know what to say, so just stared at him blankly. This is not what I wanted to be doing tonight after a brutal day mentally, and my mind resigned to a long hot shower, maybe a little extracurricular activity, and crashing hard to do it all over again tomorrow.

And besides that, his mom and possibly his dad might be in his townhouse?!! No, not what I wanted to be dealing with right now!

"This is unplanned, right? Like, do they drop in often without warning?" I know I sounded like I was complaining, but I was really beginning to feel panicky. Then I thought what if I had been here alone and they had come over and just walked in?

"Liz, I did not ask her to come over. If she's here, she's just checking up on me or dropping something off."

"Like what, your laundry?" I asked, trying to chuckle and make light of what I'd quipped.

"Of course not! I have no idea what she's doing here. This is a complete and total surprise to me too. I can't even fathom what or why she'd be here right now."

"They have a key to your place?" I asked and realized how stupid that question was.

"Yeah, but it's not like they drop in unannounced or barge in very often," he said, chuckling.

"Very often?" I asked, concerned.

"Look, stay here; I'll walk up and see what's up," he finally said, a little exasperated that this was happening.

"And if they don't see your car? Then what?"

"Shit... Okay, good point; I'll just call her," he said, reaching for his phone.

Ah!

"Just go... I was bound to meet them sooner or later, right?" I wasn't too sure I should have asked that question, and it seemed to hang longer out there than I thought it should.

Paul took my hand, "Of course, but this wasn't how I envisioned that happening."

Nice save, I thought.

"Promise me, this is a quick, 'Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Kline, I'm Elizabeth, and I work with Paul' kind of meeting. Promise me," I pleaded.

"I promise..."

March 22nd, 8:22 PM
The introductions were pleasant but awkward for all parties loitering in Paul's living room after we’d entered through his garage. His parents were a bit embarrassed to be there unannounced; though his mom said she'd texted Paul they were stopping by. He told her he hadn't gotten any text messages from her, so she checked and showed us she'd typed it out, but forgot to hit send.

Of course, Paul and I were doing our best to make it look like their being here wasn't a big deal and we had nothing to hide—like the fact I was staying with him or maybe we were an item. That last point might be kind of a gray area yet, but after last night, I had better be considered more than a fling! Augh!

According to his dad, they'd just come over to drop something off and were just leaving. His mom piped up to expand on that, saying they were here to drop off a book of family recipes she had compiled for Paul and got the idea for that after he'd ask for his Nana's lasagna recipe. We watched her go to the kitchen to retrieve it, and she proudly handed it to Paul.

He flipped a few pages with her looking over his shoulder, and she commented about the various recipes, pointing out tips she'd written in the margins. It was all very sweet, and I could see the love she poured into the book, her son, and maybe more impressively, his love for his mom. They hugged, and she returned to her husband's side after a couple minutes of page flipping.

She was certainly excited about this compilation of recipes, getting them compiled, notated, and the book completed. She apologized for wanting to deliver it tonight, saying again that she thought she'd texted that they were coming by and how embarrassed she was. She added that she was not tech-savvy in the slightest, which got a round of polite chuckles from everyone. She assured me they didn't just 'pop in' unannounced and that they weren't overbearing nosy parents or whatever.

All that came out as a rambling run-on sentence, and Paul's dad, Adam, had to slow her roll—politely, but with enough oomph—to get her rambling under control.

To his credit, Paul did his best to keep her in check too, right up until his dad asked to borrow back a tool Paul had borrowed from him. I watched in horror as the men walked out to the garage without giving his mom or me a second thought! I was barely able to contain my shock that Paul was leaving me alone with his mother! What the...

"We're really sorry to have intruded on you two tonight, Elizabeth," his mom said after the door to the garage clunked shut.

"Oh, that's alright. We'd just come back to pick something up, and Paul was going to run me home."

It was a lie, but what was I supposed to say? 'We're about to jump into bed together because I'm staying here temporarily?'

"Where do you live?" she asked.

"In Kent, an apartment on the east hill, nothing fancy," I squeaked, trying to sound confident but likely failing miserably. I heard a clanging noise coming from the garage and hoped that meant the men were soon to return. It had only been fifteen, twenty seconds, so that hope was likely unrealistic.

"He seems," she stopped speaking, studying my face, "Happier of late. I hope that's because of you."

I felt my throat tighten and my chest constricting. Where was this going?! Is this the beginning of an interrogation or grilling? Where the hell was Paul? I tried my best to smile and replied, "I'm... I really like your son, Mrs. Kline."

"Melissa, please. Mrs. Kline sounds so formal," she said soothingly. "She really did a number on him; I'm glad to see he's finally able to put that behind him."

Okay, this wasn't in the scope of how I thought this evening was going to go and certainly not where I thought any conversation between Paul's mom, Melissa, and I was going to take shape. I'd just met the woman, and she was bringing up Paul's ex-wife?! Paul was out of earshot for 35 seconds, and she's laying that on me?!

"I'm," I tried to organize a response, "We really just work together, and..."

She stepped closer to me and put a hand on my shoulder as voices from the garage got louder. "He's told me about you and how happy you make..."

The door to the garage was opening and Paul and his dad, seeing us standing there as we were, stopped talking to try to understand what might have been going on since they’d left us alone. Adam spoke first, saying to his wife they needed to get going, thanking Paul for the return of whatever tool he was holding, and ending that by saying it was nice to meet me. His mom got in line quickly with the exit protocol he'd just implemented, saying it was nice meeting me too and even gave me a little kiss on the cheek, which shocked me and Paul, judging by the look on his face.

Paul walked them out after that, and I just stood there alone in the living room, baffled by what had transpired over the last couple of minutes.

March 22nd, 8:39 p.m.
"Well, that went better than I expected," Paul said as he came back in through the garage.

I could only stare at him. Was he crazy?! Seriously, 'Better than I expected'?!! Did he not think his mom was going to grill me or whatever that was?! What had he told her about me?

When I didn't say anything, he looked worried and asked, "Are you okay?"

"How much have you told your mom about me?" I asked. My tone was borderline challenging; there was an edge to it, and I felt bad for not being able to control myself.

"Nothing really... I told you, she grilled me when I asked about the lasagna recipe. All I said was that I'd met someone, and it was going really well. Nothing else, nothing, and I mean that. I promise," he said, looking uncomfortable.

Paul hadn't told me much about his ex-wife, and I didn't want to rehash the little he had told me or pass on that his mom had made it sound like there was a lot worse that went on between them prior to the divorce. Had he really moved on? Did I make him happy?

"Liz?"

Shit!

"I believe you... Your mom was very sweet; she loves you, and I love that you've got that kind of relationship with your parents."

"But?" he asked, knowing there was probably some other concern I had yet to spit out.

"No but... I mean, this, us... It's new, and we're." I stopped speaking as he came over to me and put his hands on my hips. "This is good, right?" I asked.

He smiled and said, "Yes, it's very good, and I'm very happy. What did my mom say something about me being 'happier' lately?"

I nodded, she had.

"Well, I can't help she picked up on that. She knows me; she's seen me in a darkened state for a while, and well, she's a mom, and it's her job to worry. I'm fine though; I know what I want, and I want to be happy with someone who makes me happy."

He was watching for a reaction, but I could barely breathe. Slowly, his lips were on mine, and the kiss was what I needed to feel, as though everything he'd said had come from his heart. He was happy; I made him happy, and I couldn't be happier with that.

March 22nd, 10:02 PM
It was late, but something had clicked and comfortably seated itself between us tonight. More than likely an understanding and a deep assurance that whatever we were doing together was viable and this relationship was meaningful. I didn’t think I’d misread what he’d told me, which was he wanted this to grow into something to be cherished—to be something more.

I couldn’t get his mom's words from replaying in my head about how Paul seemed: 'happier of late'. With as much crazy as I brought to the table I wondered if that would last. Could I ever just be a normal woman? With Paul by my side I’d bet I could…

Much as last night had gone, after all my various routines for getting ready for bed were completed, I was in bed first again, but this time completely naked. Paul exited the bathroom wearing only a towel and a smile, maybe ten minutes after entering to take a shower. I could see that smile in my mind even after he turned the light off and joined me in bed.

Tonight there was a difference—a mutual urgency to give of ourselves to the other and greedily take that which we desired in return. There was no slow spooning and gently working into the union of our bodies as last night had started. Instead, as soon as Paul had slid under the sheets, I was pulling him on top of me, spreading my legs in acceptance of his position, and stating my want through a kiss that was pure undeniably lust driven. I felt starved for the passions I’d experienced last night and was anxious to feel those sensations build and move me again to my core.

When he broke our kiss and his lips found my breast I shuddered.

"Paul..." I whispered.

He stopped for a moment to look up at me in the darkened room; he resumed what he had been doing slowly, glacially, and I began to squirm beneath him.
.
"Paul..." I ventured again softly. I wanted him to know I was...

He replied softly, "I know..."

Did he? Did he know I was happy, I was his, and I wanted him?

March 25th, 11:18 AM
Up until this point, my week could be classified as 'rinse, wash, and repeat'. I would absolutely describe work that way, but add in late nights of preparation with Gina to that laundry list. Tuesday night we knocked off at 9:30 PM, and last night it was just after 10 PM when she declared we were ready for today’s hearing.

The last two nights, I'd told Paul to go home and ended up taking an Uber to his place. Gina approved the expense, which I was thankful for since it meant I didn't have to endure an hour-long commute on public transportation to get within a couple blocks of Paul's townhouse.

Gina and I were now in the conference room at the appellate courthouse for the ethics hearing, sitting across from Janet and Martin. I felt a little nervous and anxious, but things were under control due to the Xanax I'd taken before Gina and I left the office. Paul wished us luck, while I prayed we had enough to screw them both over good.

Janet had barely looked at me as she arrived and sat opposite us. Martin, on the other hand, had stared, but he was an odd man anyway. I just ignored his gaze, but began to wonder if he was staring because he knew about my past. Had he seen my... FUCKING LEAVE IT! Don't go there, focus! Screw them both – that’s the mandate! We're here to bury them in ethics violations that should hurt their careers going forward!

Martin eventually gave up ogling me and got into a quiet sidebar with Janet just before the presiding State Bar Association representative called the proceedings to order. This wasn't a legal court case, but the implications could be huge for them both, depending on this guy's ruling. They could lose their licenses to practice; there could be fines; and I knew Gina was gunning for the worst-case scenario for both of them. While it didn't appear the two sitting across from us were taking this lightly, something felt off, and I just couldn't put my finger on it.

After introductions and the laying of ground rules were done by the retired State Supreme Court Judge, Walter Milton, Gina was given the green light to begin, which required that I pass out documents detailing the scope of the firm's ethics case against Janet and Martin, including all the reference material she’d be citing and the evidence of wrongdoing—everyone got an inch-thick binder. We were loaded and ready!

Everyone appeared to be looking at the information as Gina began her introduction of the six ethics violations we were accusing them of while employed at Brandt, Wentz, and Larson. She hadn't said two-hundred words when Martin raised his hand.

"I'd like to skip some of this posturing preamble, Mrs. Barnes, and ask for an expedited ruling based on one count of failure to declare a political contribution I did not know was in excess of state-defined maximums. These other items are frivolous and outright insulting. I expected you'd know better than to go tabloid legal here today."

No sooner had he said that, Janet recited nearly the exact same line as Martin had—minus the 'posturing' and 'tabloid' digs.

Gina wasn't fazed by any of it and was quick to object: "I believe we have more than the financial contribution issue on the table. I'm happy to let this information become public knowledge or supply it to the tabloids of your choice, Mr. Brandt."

Milton shut the barbs down and asked for a moment to review our list of claimed violations. He flipped several pages back and forth in the binder, closed it three minutes later, and said, "I am quite familiar with the points you're trying to make in your presentation Mrs. Barnes, and while I've only skimmed your supporting documentation, I'm inclined to consider Mr. Brandt and Ms. Larson's requests for the benefit of all parties concerned in this matter."

It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room! Gina began to protest, but Milton cut her off.

"My ruling is for a thirty-day suspension of each of your licenses, a fine of $10,000, and forty hours of legal counseling to be provided to residents in underserved or impoverished communities when your licenses are reinstated. Thank you for your efforts, Mrs. Barnes; this hearing is adjourned."

What the fuck just happened?! I looked at Gina; she smiled, picked up her phone, and looked to be texting someone.

"Are we done?" I asked quietly. I noticed Janet and Martin had pushed their chairs back and were gathering up their briefcases.

Gina was smiling at me. Okay, something is very wrong. There was a knock on the conference door, followed by its opening and a man's head poking through the door. Oh shit! I recognized him…
.
"Ms. Larson," he asked, speaking in Janet's direction.

She acknowledged him, and he entered the room, followed by two other people. He posted up in front of Janet, pulling his leather-bound credentials from his pocket and showing them to her. By the look on her face, she had no idea who this man was or what he was doing here.

"Ms. Larson, I'm Special Agent Timothy Warren of the FBI on loan to the Seattle office via Phoenix. This is Inspector Carlton Hale of the RCMP and Belinda Compton from the Criminal Intelligence Service Canada. We'd like to speak with you for a moment if you don't mind."

Janet looked pale, and any smug look she might have had while gathering her things up was now long gone. Martin looked uncomfortable, but since he wasn't spoken to, he figured he wasn't who any of these people wanted and proceeded to walk around the small group and exit the conference room. Former State Supreme Court Judge Milton also didn't waste any time packing up and heading toward the door either.

Who wasn't in a hurry to get out of the room? Gina... She was packing up her materials into her briefcase slowly, smiling even more broadly while doing so, and watching the group gathered in front of Janet with glee. I was supremely confused, but I did my best to just pack up the items we had brought and try to stay out of the line of fire.

"I'm not sure I have time for this right now, Special Agent," Janet started to say.

"I apologize for that, but both Inspector Hale and CISC Compton have made the trip down from Vancouver to specifically meet with you. You certainly don't have to speak with us without representation," he said, interrupting her, "But I could escalate this inquiry and do have the authority to detain you. Since your meeting appears to be over and likely sooner than the opposing council expected, you might want to reconsider my request."

It took a full minute for her to reply.

"Alright, and what is this in regards to?"

Tim looked over at Gina and me and said, "I'll get into that in a moment; let's wait for the room to clear."

March 25th, 11:52 AM
I'd pulled the conference room door shut, and when I turned around, Gina was already a few steps down the hall. I quickly caught up to her as she got to the elevator and pressed the down button.

She turned to look at me and said, "That felt good."

"But... they barely got a slap on the wrist. And all that work we did," I complained.

"Rule one for any case; never under-prepare. You do that, and you are screwed. We prepared for war, and what the State Bar Association sent was an inside man for both Janet and Martin set on making a mockery of the judicial system in this state. He basically made this a water balloon fight, not a legal proceeding."

She paused to think about something and then continued, "I got a call from a friend this morning, and they pretty much told me what was coming. So, while I'm pissed, there's not much I can do about it. The ruling is the ruling, and it's not without consequences for either of them. I'll be filing a grievance against that idiot who oversaw this hearing, and hopefully he doesn't get to pull this shit with another lawyer's review in the future. Who knows, maybe this becomes a news item later today," she finished with a wolfish grin.

I knew there was no appeal process, but I was still pissed.

"All that work we did!" I chirped louder than I expected.

"Let it go... Did you learn anything?" she asked.

"Of course I did, and I'm... I want to thank you for the opportunity and…"

"For being a first class bitch," she said, smiling as the elevator door opened and she entered.

I watched her enter and just stood there shocked she’d said that. As the doors started to close, my brain engaged, and I scooted in, which caused them to reopen momentarily.

I looked at her and said, "No, you're tough, you've got high expectations, and you're damn good at what you do. You're the type of strong woman I want to be."

She cocked her head at me, the smile fading a little.

"Let's put a pin in that idea for later."

"Okay," I replied, now thoroughly confused. Then it hit me—the text message—she knew! She knew more about the investigation into Amber; she knew Tim was...

"Jacob and Paul set that up," she said as if knowing exactly what I was thinking.

"But... Jacob had said all along that there wasn't enough evidence we'd found to even shine a light on her."

"There wasn't, until the FBI looked into an international bank transfer to Vincent Jones of CLogistic’s from Janet. They could do that without probable cause or a warrant given the beefed-up terrorism laws since 9/11, especially with money flowing in and out of countries that paid for 9/11. It was enough of a hook to convince the RCMP and their version of the FBI to play ball. I guess Jones may have incriminated Janet; that's my guess as to why they are here."

I'm sure my mouth flopped open, and try as I might I couldn’t speak. Then it hit me - Paul! Why hadn't he said anything to me about this!? All he'd said was that he had talked to Tim last week...

March 25th, 1:52 PM
"Hey..."

I looked up to see Paul standing in my office doorway and just stared at him. I had gone looking for him when Gina and I returned to the office, but he was interviewing a candidate for the firm's CIO position. Then it was lunch time, and Lisa wanted to know how the ethics case panned out, so we got lunch and ended up talking more about Paul and me than the case. Go figure!

I got busy after lunch and hadn't gone looking for him, but I had questions, and he was going to come clean! He knew stuff I wasn’t privy too and I was going to get that out of him today!

When I didn't immediately say anything, he came in and shut the door, walked to the corner of my desk and sat.

"Look, I couldn't say anything about this morning. I told Tim you'd confronted Janet, and then 'by chance' some idiot tried kicking your door down later that night. He asked me not to say anything about today. It was killing me. But look, here's what I know: they dug and found a possible link to Janet and Lafleur via Vincent Jones. From what I understand, Jones couldn't speak fast enough to avoid legal troubles. Oh, and I didn't even know this was for sure coming until yesterday. So it's not like I've been hiding information from you for very long... I'm sorry."

I wasn't sure I liked that excuse, but I was a realist, and I got it. He was trying to protect me, and...

He reached out a hand and asked, "Still friends?"

I studied his face.

"Is that all we are?"

His hand dropped, and a hurt look overtook his face.

"No, Jesus, no!" He looked behind him towards the glass wall that enclosed my office, then back at me. "Weren't you that amazing, sexy woman in bed with me last night?"

I smiled, and his hand popped back up, the hurt gone from his face and eyes. I took it, we shook, and he kissed my hand before letting it go.

"Much better... I heard the ethics case was screwed from the beginning anyway with whom they assigned to mediate."

"Yeah, Gina sort of knew that going in, I guess. I'm not a fan of being kept in the dark; are you hearing me?"

"Gotcha... After today, if I know something, you'll know it. I feel bad for you both; you poured a lot of effort into that. I'm sure people noticed."

"Yeah, I'd have liked Gina to have been given a fair shot at screwing Janet. The Tim thing was a pretty nice ending too, though," I said, smiling. "Has he given any indication where it might lead?"

"Full disclosure?"

I snapped his knee and he barked a complaint, acting as if I'd injured him, but he was smiling the whole time.

"It kind of depends whether they can make any connection stick. She could certainly say she doesn't know what they are talking about; say the money she transferred was for hockey tickets or whatever. Jones admitted to a crypto transfer of the money to Lafleur. Oh, and he's got an alibi for when they think Lafleur was murdered, so that’s yet to be figured out. Tim said the trail runs cold there, but the Canadians are looking into an organized crime link for the possible sex trafficking of Amber. Wonder where that idea came from?" he said, smiling.

I'm sure I was blushing a little. Then I thought about Janet: "She was so calculating, you know?"

"I think maybe she wanted to be removed from the dirty details and just didn't remember the terrorism thing giving away her possible involvement. She should have made a crypto payment to either Jones or directly to Lafleur. They'd never have been able to make a connection, even with Jones singing. What they have is probably thin on her right now... Time will tell, though with the Canadian’s investigating it from their side and likely Tim digging into it more they might be able to pin something on her."

I studied him for a few seconds. I didn't want to think about Janet, Amber, or anyone else, for that matter.

"You find your replacement," I asked, half dreading the answer.

"Actually, I did," he said happily. "Guy has a ton of experience and is all about transparency, protecting the firm, clients, and sensitive information. I think Jacob likes him. Finding someone with skill was my assignment and they’re going to make an offer to him tomorrow, pending a background check."

I made a face and said, "As long as I'm not the one being checked out."

"I wouldn't mind checking you out if you're up to it later," he chuckled.

"Might be worth...," I caught the time and panicked. "Crap, I'm supposed to be in a meeting with Gina in three minutes!"

I stood, grabbed my usual bundle of supplies, the ethics folder, which I assumed this meeting was going to be about—maybe a shut-down or lessons learned kind of thing. I wanted to give Paul a kiss but settled for a quick squeeze of his leg, getting a knowing smile in return.

He had a 'look' on his face, though. I'd have stayed to question him what was up, but I didn't do LATE!

March 25th, 1:59 PM
I was later than I'd intended to report for my meeting with Gina. When I rounded the corner to where her office was, I could see her door was open. I hoped she wasn't in there and that maybe she’d gone for a bathroom break before we dove into whatever it was we were going to be doing? Then she'd come back, and I'd be standing there, appearing to be early.

Wishful thinking! As I got closer to her office, I could see she wasn't alone. Jacob was talking to her and stopped speaking as she waved me in. I hadn't seen Jacob, let alone spoken to him, since Paul had spilled a reportedly G-rated version of my past life to him. I was instantly on edge. Augh...

"Hello Elizabeth. I was just going over the ethics case with Gina. It sounds like your team produced some excellent supporting data," Jacob said politely.

He wasn't looking at me any differently than all the other times we'd spoken—that meant something, right?

"Thank you, Mr. Wentz... It would have been nice to get a fair shot at presenting our case this morning," I replied, trying to keep my nerves from showing through.

"That's our Bar Association for you," he chuckled, and then looked towards Gina. "I think her being confronted by the FBI was a nice ending to that farce of a hearing."

Gina was smiling back at him. I hoped her mood held when it came to whatever I was doing after Jacob left us.

"I'll leave it to you to get things implemented," he said to Gina. "Thank you, thank you both, for all your efforts.”

He saw himself out after saying that, closing the door behind him. Gina waved me to a chair and jumped right in after I was seated. I had my pen and paper ready to go.

"Let's discuss that 'pin' I'd mentioned in the elevator as we were leaving court."

I knew what 'pin' she was talking about; I just wasn't sure what it had to do with my statement about her being a strong woman. I nodded, and she continued.

"I've worked for Jacob for seventeen years. He's not only a competent litigator, but someone I trust completely - unlike his former partners Janet or Martin." She let that sink in a moment and could see I'd caught the inference—‘former' partners.

"As of thirty minutes ago, both former partners agreed verbally to the purchase of their interests in the firm. Last week Jacob asked if I would be interested in becoming a partner, and I accepted." She thought for a moment, "This, of course, is sensitive information still and not for dissemination beyond this office. By the end of the month it’ll be old news and I hope received well."

"I understand, Mrs. Barnes... And congratulations, I'm excited for you and for the firm's future."

My mind was absolutely reeling, though. I was happy to be rid of Janet and Martin and, oddly, excited for Gina. She was...

"I didn't get to where I am today by taking 'No' for an answer or letting someone detour me from my intended career goals. My priorities are my family, this firm, and the clients I represent. It would have been much easier to roll over and take the easy way out over the years. Men, society, and workplaces tend to like women who fall in line. I'm wired differently, and it's rubbed people wrong over the years. I always knew what I wanted; I had the drive and the passion to succeed through whatever was thrown at me. Those I work with and that I want to work with tend to have that same drive."

I nodded. I understood.

"You mentioned in the elevator that I'm tough and have high expectations. You're correct. I know my reputation for chewing through Para's and junior lawyers within the firm. And I'm going to tell you that anyone who works for me either raises their game or cries foul and runs for the exit. That's their choice; I'm not their mother or babysitter, and my end goal or beliefs in what I do or can accomplish won't be denied or slowed by those that can't pull their weight. I will not apologize for what I do and do well for this firm to anyone, including Jacob, though we'd talk through my being difficult civilly and have several times over the years."

Fuck! Where is this going? Is she about to tell me I didn't measure up?! The last thing Jacob said was to get 'things implemented'. Had I screwed something up and not kept up with her wants? Had they, the new managing partners, considered my past as a problem moving forward for the firm?

"Is there a question?" she asked, seeing I was trying to keep up.

Huh? Questions? Yeah! Like a hundred of them! Okay, get a fucking grip! Push back!

"I, I'm just trying to understand the direction of this meeting, Mrs. Barnes." I could feel my hands going numb and cold; could she tell?

"Excellent question, Elizabeth. Let's 'pin' that for a moment. I'd like to ask you a question first. Do you believe you are, as you described me, a strong and tough woman?"

What the hell?! Was I now an issue for the firm because I was a Trans woman? Where was she going with this line of questioning? What do I say?

"Mrs. Barnes, I realize you might not know that much about someone being..." I stopped speaking because she'd raised her hand.

"It's a simple question; please don't over think it," she stated, almost as if she were challenging me to think past being Trans or being Trans was an issue.

I felt a pulse of anger, followed by fear, and tried to shake it off as best I could before stating, "Yes, I believe I'm a woman."

"Not the question I asked. I think you're most definitely a woman, but I want to know if you're hardened in your belief that you belong here and if you are both strong-willed and tough. That you can do any job thrown at you and manage expectations that may not seem realistic in the scope of an assignment with the same energy you put into the ethics case we just wrapped up?"

The fuck!? Was that a partial compliment?! A kick of adrenaline shot through me, and I sat up a little straighter, looked her square in the eyes, and said, "There is no job or task you could give me that I won't complete... And yes, I'm a strong and tough woman, but I'm still learning my way."

And for the first time since entering her office—since being assigned to work with her on the ethics case—I felt like I'd exuded enough confidence to match hers.

"That's what I was hoping you would say. All pins and cards on the table—three of the staff members working for Martin on the Port of Seattle Union representation team will be let go at the end of business today," she paused to see if I had any reaction, which I didn't, so she continued.

"I'll be taking on the roll of lead council for their legal representation, and that will span everything from contract negations to labor and industry claims to a whole host of legal minutia that's not relevant at this moment. Six of the firm's lawyers will be solely focused on that arm of our business. And as I get my head around where we're at to keep this contract, there's a lot of work we need to do, a few messes to clean up, and we're going to be very busy over the next couple months heading into their contract negotiations with the city."

"I understand, Mrs. Barnes; how can I help?"

"Good, again, what I was hoping to hear from you," she said, smiling as if seeing my head finally got seated in what this meeting was. "After talking with Jacob and laying out my vision for how I want my team to function, I asked that you be assigned to me. I've spoken to Alicia, and she's already begun reassigning your work load, though those taking on some of those assignments may have questions or need guidance."

I was in a state of shock and could only nod that I understood.

"What we're offering you is a bit more than just joining my team. What I would like is for you to lead the team of support staff for the Port of Seattle Union representation. It would ultimately entail five Para's, including yourself. As it stands, you currently have a staff of three. I won't tell you how to fill those two additional positions, but I might suggest cherry-picking from the pool of talent we already have, or we can try to hire from outside. That's your call; I'll support your decision."

Okay, had I heard her correctly?! She wanted me to work for her, offering me a job overseeing the support team! I couldn't help but smile.

"I appreciate yours and Jacob's faith in me, Mrs. Barnes."

"We've got high hopes for your continued growth here. This position comes with a number of responsibilities, which I'll outline in a moment. I discussed what I feel is an appropriate salary increase with Jacob, and we've approved a new base salary of $92,650. You’ll have a performance review in six months and could be eligible for a small increase at that time. There will be clearly defined performance goals and a bonus structure – which I’m still working on. Lastly as the lead of the support team you’ll perform many of the managerial duties for your team, though I expect you to continue to contribute to our efforts."

I wasn't sure why, but I was solely focused on getting a raise! And not just a tiny bump, but a third more than what I was currently making. I could pay my mom off finally. I could probably even buy a car! I knew my mind was going in twenty different directions and I’d tuned Gina out for a moment, but recovered by saying, "Thank you."

"The last part of this new position I negotiated on your behalf. We, the firm, will pay for continuing education up to a maximum of $15,000 per year. You will be working heavily in contract law, and I need you to be proficient in dealing with the city’s legal team as these contract negotiations progress. I'd like you to register for the summer session at the UW Law School as soon as possible. I think that's about it. Do you have any questions or anything you would like to discuss?"

March 25th, 2:26 PM
I tried my best to not rush out of Gina's office, but it was almost impossible to not look as though I was in a hurry to get somewhere quickly. She'd dumped a twenty-point list of things I needed to get organized by next Wednesday—six days from now if I worked over the weekend.

But my mind was somewhere else, on someone else...

I needed to see Paul, to share the news, and to be with him. As I approached his office, he was just hanging up the phone, smiling at my approach, and stood behind his desk. I headed straight towards him; tears began to flow, my face contorted and hanging low, visibly aching from the heart outwards. I dumped the crap I'd been carrying on his desk unceremoniously; a folder went sliding over the edge and hit the floor as I was reaching out to gather him in my arms.

When he returned my hug, I began full-on sobbing. He just held me silently like that for a couple minutes while I cried. I didn't care if people walked by his office and saw us. I needed to release, to soak up that I was wanted by Gina and Jacob, and... My body racked uncontrollably as I thought about him leaving, about not seeing him daily, and about us possibly growing apart.

"I'm so happy for you, Liz," he whispered.

I smashed my face into his chest even harder, hugging him tighter, and I cried even more deeply and freely.

"That's the last of it; no more secrets. Told you after today you get whatever I know when I know it," he cooed soothingly.

I croaked into his shoulder, "You... you knew?"

"Yeah, I don't think you realize what the right people think about you."

That brought on another short sobbing fit he just let me get through in my own time, holding me, kissing the side of my head once, and letting me nuzzle close to him. I did my best to recover and pushed back from him slightly.

"Thank you... Thank you for being there for me, understanding..." I barely got that out without losing it again.

He was looking at me oddly. I raised my hands to wipe my eyes, and he let me go to open a desk drawer, pulling out a box of tissues. I took a couple and tried to dab carefully, though I knew my face was a mess.

"I'm happy you let me in, Liz... I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I hope you know that we’re not done," he said softly.

"I hope not, but my life is... You know what a mess my life has been."

"None of that matters," he said, looking very serious.

"Why, how can’t it?"

"Because," he paused to focus on my face while searching for something in my eyes, "I know who you really are Liz, and I'm in love with you..."

FIN

::: --- :::

Don't be afraid to click the "Kudos" (Thumbs Up) icon for this short story if it's done anything for you (you don't have to have an account to do so, and there are no prizes for most likes or payouts for that matter (I’d have bot’ed that bitch long ago if there was)). If you comment, I will reply, so let’s chat or not or whatever floats your noodle.

If there are problems or you have criticisms you'd like to share privately, feel free to message me on the site (you’ll need an account) or via email ([email protected]) - I'd love to address them if I can.

I'm trying to grow as a storyteller; I'm far from perfect, so any help is much appreciated and valued. Thanks for reading...

Rachel M. Moore