Her Holiday Fling. Jennifer Snow
was reading it.
She could come back later...or not.
“Come in, Hayley,” he said as she turned to escape.
She leaned around the door frame while staying in the safety of the hallway. “Oh, good morning, Marvin. You looked busy, so I didn’t want to...”
“Please tell me all of this was taken out of context, misquoted... Anything that we can use to sue for defamation of character.”
Hayley took a deep breath and tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear as she entered his office. “I’m sure some of it was.”
“How much of it?” He extended the magazine toward her.
She wanted to decline and say no, thanks, I’ve already read it. But the joke stuck in her throat. Taking the magazine, she scanned the article for anything that looked like an error. “Um...” There had to be a misprint somewhere. Of course there was the if-versus-when wording mix-up...but probably not useful to point out that one.
“Hayley...”
“Just give me a second.” She flipped the page. “Aha, this, right here. The part about prenuptial agreements being an early admission to failure in the marriage—that was totally off the record.” Even though it was true. Hayley didn’t believe in everlasting love, but if she could twist her mind around the fact that other people found themselves utterly and completely head over heels for someone else—enough to vow a lifetime together—why would the idea of a prenup even enter their minds? “So, we’re good, then?” she asked, forcing a smile.
Marvin stood and closed his office door.
Damn. “Marvin... Mr. Marshall...”
“Shh.”
She clamped her lips tightly together.
“Was the interview recorded?” He leaned his palms on the top of his oak desk and studied her, his hopeful expression fading by the second as she stalled.
“No?” Her shoulders sagged. “Yes, it was. Look, I’m really sorry. I did say some of those...”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, all of those things. Maybe it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“Do explain.” Marvin sat in his plush leather chair and waited.
“Well, the fact of the matter is, we are divorce attorneys. Clients want us to be ruthless...man haters—” she said the word carefully “—to a degree. At least the women clients.”
He closed his eyes, then, opening them, he spoke slowly. “Hayley, when you first came back from New York, I had my apprehensions about hiring you—despite your success record in court and your Harvard education. Do you remember why that was?”
She did. “You thought I had an edge.” It had been the first time she’d ever interviewed at a law firm where her perceived edge was a strike against her.
“Exactly. And what did you promise me?”
“That I could tone it down a notch.”
“I believe we’d agreed on a whole lot of notches.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry, Mr. Marshall. I promise this will not happen again. Next time I’m interviewed, I will avoid the tough questions and stick to the standard answers in our press kits.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “How about just staying away from the media altogether?”
She pointed at her boss. “Even better idea.” She wasn’t exactly in a hurry to humiliate herself further with a repeat of articles like this one anyway.
“In the meantime, I think we need to do some damage control.”
“I can release a statement or something. Maybe talk about my charity and pro bono cases...”
His face was stone cold. “What did I just say?”
“Staying away from the media—got it.” She sat on her hands and willed herself not to speak in the long silence that followed. She shifted in the seat and crossed one leg over the other. Sitting back, she switched legs.
Finally he spoke. “You have a boyfriend? Fiancé...right?”
No. Why was she nodding?
“Great. Make sure you bring your fiancé to the corporate retreat in Maui next week. We’ll show everyone that you are not a ‘man hater,’ that you have a solid relationship...”
She heard nothing after that. She just kept nodding. Bring her fiancé—oh, the man she’d broken up with at the first sign of commitment? No problem at all. She’d just call James and tell him she’d made a mistake and she really did want to get married. She shuddered at the thought.
“This company prides itself on strong family values. Just because we are divorce lawyers doesn’t mean we are anticommitment...” Her boss’s voice drifted into her already panicked thoughts.
She was. But if she wanted to keep her job she’d better pretend otherwise.
“Hayley, it’s important to us that everyone here at Marshall and Thompson Family Law shares a common core focus. Are you understanding my meaning?”
Too well. “Yes, of course. The corporate retreat—I’ll bring my fiancé.” She stumbled on the tan carpet as she stood. “I’ll make this right, sir.” Even if she had to beg a man she didn’t love to reconsider marrying her.
* * *
“MAN, WE REALLY need to find a new coffee shop. That place is always busy this time of morning,” Cooper Jennings said, climbing into the passenger seat of the police squad car. He placed the steaming drinks into the cup holders.
Chase reached for his and took a gulp, feeling his throat burn from the hot liquid. “That’s hot.”
Next to him, Cooper opened a paper bag and retrieved a Boston cream–filled donut.
Chase shook his head as the kid bit into the pastry. A month on the job and his new partner was already embracing the stereotype. Before long he’d look like one of the paper-pushing desk job guys if refined sugar and caffeine continued to be his breakfast after their long night shift. “You have to stop eating that crap. I want a partner who can run more than ten feet without gasping for air.”
“Don’t sweat it, man. I got you.”
He wouldn’t bet his life on that. Why had he agreed to train the new guy? Oh, right—Kate had begged him to.
Putting the car in Drive, he pulled out into traffic. He could barely keep his eyes open after the twelve-hour night shifts every day this week, and he was desperate to drop Cooper off at the station and get his ass home to a hot shower and his bed. In fact, even the shower might have to wait.
His cell phone rang at his side and, pulling the squad car into the police station, he reached for it and groaned. “Cooper, why is your fiancée calling me?” he asked, unbuckling his seat belt.
“Beats me, man. She’s your sister.”
“Not going to help me out here?”
The young cop who’d joined the force, against Chase’s advice, shook his head. “You’re on your own. Tell her I’ll be home in an hour,” he said, grabbing his coffee and getting out of the vehicle.
Chase tossed the ringing phone between his hands. If he didn’t answer now, she’d keep calling, interrupting his plans of sleeping the day away. “Hey, Kate,” he said a second later, resting the phone against his shoulder as he grabbed his bag from the backseat and got out of the car.
“Have you gone to Joseph’s to try on your tuxedo yet?” His sister’s voice was far too perky for 6:00 a.m.
He shot Cooper a questioning look as