Page 71 of Not Mine to Rescue

Nothing on the page of lies hinted to that. Except that damn date. I almost removed it and put the second date in its place. It wasn’t as incriminating as the day before it. My sins were all right there in black and white.

And there was nothing that would hide them anymore. I jogged the pages together with a sharp tap against the desk. There was one way I could salvage my pride, and that would be a trial. Was I valuable enough to this firm to pull a power move? Perhaps. If Jim was going to delay, I had to strike first. I had to talk to Stephen and Bill.

Bill Walsh was the more approachable of the two, but in order to win, I needed the expertise of Stephen Poe. It would be his counsel that would save my career. If I couldn’t persuade him, my career was dead.

Both partners were in the small conference room when I entered. I laid down the copies of my statement in front of them.

They read the pages in silence.

I noted when Bill set his pointer finger on the first date. He glanced up.

I refused to feel shame. I met his gaze with my chin held steady.

Stephen flipped the page over and finished reading. He sat back in his chair with a louder than normal exhale. It wasn’t a sigh. Nor was it resignation. It was a calculated release of pressure to gather an argument which could not be unraveled. That’s why I worked for these men. Both were brilliant. But the founder was a legend.

Bill finished his reading and signaled that he was ready.

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Stephen didn’t mince words.

I should have. “It wasn’t official.”

Bill snorted. “You do realize that even going out to a dinner with a client needs to be reported when it happens. Having…”

“Sex,” I offered the word to the room clinically.

“That. It’s a much larger step I would think.”

“I’m not going to sugarcoat this. I had sex with my former client. I want to continue doing that. The question is, does this constitute a grave enough ethics breach or not?” I raised a finger because I wasn’t done. “And whether it creates a conflict of interest issue for the other, currently on leave, member of the firm’s team, who, I will remind you, is not having sex with anyone from his client, the Destroyers MC.”

Stephen laughed.

“I don’t think this is funny,” Bill said.

“No, it’s hilarious. Honey finally gets some, and Jim got mad. You see what this is, right?”

“Yes, a continuation of the Cold War he started when he began sleeping with that girl.”

Stephen was still chuckling. “A Cold War. That’s apt terminology. The trouble is, he forgot Honey held nukes the entire time.”

“It’s Honoria.”

He glanced away from Bill to see me. “And that’s a mouthful. What is a good way to shorten that?”

“Honor.”

The mirth in his tone died. With its death, something somber creeped into his eyes. “You tried to live up to that name, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

He flipped the page back over. “This Wombat, he’s thirteen years younger than you are.”

I’d lost him. “Yes.”

“Are you sure you’re not taking advantage of him?”

“It wasn’t like that. Read the notes again. He made the first move, and the second.” And probably a twentieth. I’d lost count.

“I don’t have to read the notes. I’m aware of what kind of boys Walt likes to recruit. And that’s what they are for the most part, overgrown boys. The ones who do grow up become dangerous men—the kind I know I wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of.” Stephen paused and glanced at the door. “Bill, tell the receptionist no one is allowed in for the next ten minutes.”