Behave or you’ll pay.
Behave. Or. You. Will. Pay.
He can’t say things like that and then walk away—or more like kick me out—because I have questions. Lots of them. How am I going to pay? Why? Where? When?
So many questions.
Like everything when it comes to Nate, I guess. And I don’t know why I want to pay, or maybe I do know. Because I’m a masochist, in a way, and masochists like pain, especially when it’s a result of something we’ve done.
I think that’s why I kissed him back then, because my masochistic tendencies took hold of me and I couldn’t escape them. And God forbid I tell Dad about them, because what would I say? Dad, I think I have masochistic tendencies toward your friend and I’m unable to stop them. Yeah, I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye again.
Anyway, because of what Nate said, I’m unable to focus on the file. I read a few lines and then I go back to thinking about all the words he said to me.
Baby girl.
Behave.
Pay.
Oh, and truly fucked. That one is the most important.
They’re just measly words, but they’re digging beneath my skin and jamming themselves against my bones. Maybe I should make a list for them, too, like the negative words, because they’re triggering something a lot worse than my empathetic reactions.
“Hey, new girl.”
I lift my head abruptly and kind of bite my lip in the process. Ow.
But that’s not the issue here. It’s that someone called for me. I’m the only new girl in the intern area today and every single one of the other interns is avoiding me like the plague. That’s what happens when they know I’m Kingsley Shaw’s daughter. As in, the Shaw of Weaver & Shaw. They either kiss my ass or avoid me.
The ass-kissing isn’t necessary now that they have the internship and my dad is out of the picture. It’s the first time I’m glad no one knows about my marriage to Nate. That could get too complicated too fast.
Anyhow, the partners like me, but the interns don’t. I think they may even hate me because they don’t think I’ve worked as hard as they have to get the internship.
Try impressing Nate, assholes.
So being called out of nowhere and referred to as “new girl” instead of Ms. Shaw is coming out of left field. I look up and find the person behind the name-calling. A short woman who’s wearing khaki slacks and a shirt that are both maybe a few sizes too big. Her thick, black hair frames her small face and she’s wearing black-framed glasses. She must have bad eyesight, because I can barely see her eyes—they look like tiny brown dots.
And she’s looming over my desk, even though her height doesn’t really give her that luxury. Her aura does, though. It’s dark, like pitch-black. And her poker face doesn’t help.
“You called for me?” I ask.
“Yes. Follow me.”
“To where?”
“Less talking and more working, would you?”
I want to ask her who she is, but she’s already walking away and I have no choice but to go after her. What’s with people telling me to follow them today?
We take the elevator to the IT department. I squint, absolutely clueless about all the machines and things lying around. Jeez. If I get lost in this place, I’ll never find my way out.
There are a few guys typing away and staring at a million screens. I guess a big firm like W&S does need this much protection. I’m kind of impressed by their support work. The lawyers get all the credit, but without the IT techs, the firm will crumble.
The short girl leads me to a computer off to the side and sits in front of it, then motions at a chair beside her. “Sit down.”
I do, still unsure about what’s going on. Now that I study her closer, she looks younger than I thought. Maybe a few years older than me, but she’s definitely in her twenties.
She retrieves a log and drops it on the table in front of me. Despite her outside demeanor, she has a very soft, feminine voice. “Help me sort through those case dates. I’m creating a chart.”
“Uh, I think you got the wrong person. I’m interning for—”
She types away at rapid speed, her full attention on the screen. “I don’t care who you intern for. You’re interning, and that means you can help instead of daydreaming.”
She saw me daydreaming. Yikes. That must be why she picked me.
“I’m a pre-law, though. I really don’t know how I can help with IT.”
“They teach you how to read in college, right? The time you’ve spent complaining could’ve been used to get some work done.”
“Fine, you don’t have to be so snarky.” I open the log. “I’m Gwen. What’s your name?”
“Jane. Now, work.”
It’s actually a lot more fun than I thought. I help her in making lists of cases by year and she makes charts for them that can be sorted alphabetically, by lawyer, by nature, by docket number, and even by judge.
And she does it so fast that I’m a little ashamed it took me hours to go through the files Nate gave me. It was the hostile looks from the other interns, maybe. Jane, however, makes me motivated to work.
“That is so beautiful.” I motion at the result on the screen, but Jane doesn’t even crack a smile, just continues on as if her fingers are fluid and all they know is the colorful keyboard.
“Doing needless things again, Plain Jane?” a guy with frameless glasses asks as he stands beside us. He’s one of the techs who were sitting in front of the screens earlier.
His friend, who’s wearing a tacky flannel shirt, joins him, laughing.
“I get bored when I finish my tasks earlier than you, boys,” she says without looking at them, and I can tell it pisses them off, because they’re not smiling anymore.
“Screw you,” the flannel shirt guy says.
“You might want to pick your dignity up off the floor before you say that,” I say. Standing up for injustice is instinct for me. No clue who I take after for that. It sure as hell isn’t my dad, though, because he only believes in merciless justice. He thinks normal justice is weak and useless.
“And who the fuck are you?” frameless glasses guy asks.
I guess no one in IT really knows what’s going on in the rest of W&S. Because all the junior associates and interns recognized me. Or, at least, most of them did.
I lift my chin. “Jane’s friend.”
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes and leaves.
“Assholes.” I punch the air after them.
Jane’s manic tapping stops for a second and she tilts her head to stare at me. It’s a bit creepy with how her hair drops to one side as well. “Why did you say that?”
“Say what?”
“That I’m your friend.”
“Because they were being jerks. I’m allergic to those.” Even though I married one.
“I don’t need you to stand up for me.”
“Sorry, but I can’t stay quiet when things like that happen.”
“If you keep it up, you’ll end up getting hurt one day.”
“One day isn’t today.” I stand and twist my neck, then move my legs to get the blood circulating to my toes. “Let’s go get lunch.”
She opens a drawer and retrieves one of those sandwiches you get from the convenience store. “I have my lunch right here.”
“That’s not called lunch. Let’s get a real one.” I reach for it and she catches my hand so fast, I flinch.
“Don’t touch my computer.”
“I was going for the sandwich.”
Her hold slowly eases from around my wrist. I massage the skin as it quickly turns red.
“Wow, you guys are super possessive of your computers, huh?”
She pushes her glasses back with the heel of her palm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s fine.” I grin, even though it does really hurt. It’s as if she’s a trained ninja. “Lunch?”
She pushes the button on her screen, making it go black, and begrudgingly stands up. I intertwine my arm with hers, and she looks at me funny, but she doesn’t pull away as we head to the elevator and take it to the intern area.
“Do you like home-cooked food better? Because I can cook. I love it sometimes, though I love baking more. I brought cupcakes this morning, but I don’t think there will be any left, because Daniel stole them all. Do you know him? He’s funny and has a dreamy accent and dimples. Jeez, they shouldn’t be legal. Anyway, I’ll bring you new cupcakes tomorrow—”
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Lawyers aren’t usually this chatty.”
“But we’re supposed to be. Talking is what wins cases, Jane.”
“And here I thought it was actually studying law.”
“Hey! Rude.”
She lifts a shoulder as if she couldn’t care less.
I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips. “You’re funny.”
“I’m sarcastic. There’s a difference.”
“I’ll go with funny.” I grab my bag from my desk, trying to ignore the interns’ cutting gazes. Jane doesn’t even pay them any attention and keeps studying her black nails.
Soon after, we take the elevator to the parking garage. “Hey, Jane.”
“What?”
“You really don’t know who I am?”
“You said you were Gwen.”
“Yeah, right.” I don’t know why I feel giddy because someone actually doesn’t associate me with Dad, the firm, or anything.
I’m just Gwen. And that’s liberating.
The moment the elevator opens, my smile drops and so does my heart. Because Aspen is getting in Nate’s car and she’s smiling. No, she’s laughing, and he’s smiling.
Aspen is in Nate’s car and she’s happy and it’s lunchtime.
But that’s wrong.
Yes, I know they’re close, but she’s not supposed to be with him during lunch and be happy about it. Or maybe this is normal, but my head doesn’t understand that logic right now.
I’m not thinking as I let my legs take over and start walking toward the car. The same car he picked me up in on our wedding day. The same car that Aspen shouldn’t be getting into while she’s all smiles like that.
But I’m late, because the car has already left the parking garage. It’s already out and I’m standing here, staring at the exit with the sound of the tires and Aspen’s laugh echoing in my ears.
And I want to chop off my ears and feed them to the nearest dog.
“Gwen?”
I slowly look away from the exit to focus on Jane. For a second, I forgot she was there, that she almost saw me make a fool out of myself.
Because I shouldn’t. I’m fine, right? It doesn’t matter who Nate spends his lunch with or that he returns her smile or that she only laughs with him.
“Are you okay?” Jane runs a hand in front of my face. “You look like you’re having a stroke.”
“I’m fine. Fiiiine. Yeah, totally fine.”
“You don’t look fine. If you were a PC, I’d run a malware check. But I can’t, so I’m lost here.”
That earns a smile from me. “I don’t think any malware checks can fix me or what I saw.”
“What you saw? You mean Aspen?”
“You know her?”
“Who doesn’t? She’s the only woman around here with balls bigger than some men.”
“So you like her?”
“Not specifically. But I like what she does. We need more women like her.”
“I heard Kingsley Shaw hates her, like, loathes and despises her because she’s a witch.” God, I’m stooping so low, even using Dad like this—sorry, Dad—but it’s because of what I saw that I can’t help it.
“I heard he’s an egotistical jerk.”
“Hey!” My voice cracks, feeling the jab on behalf of my father.
She lifts a shoulder. “All I’m saying is there are always two sides to every story. Just because Kingsley hates her doesn’t mean she’s bad. Besides, Nathaniel is more important and he likes her.”
“He…doesn’t.”
“Of course, he does. I recently joined the firm and even I know that everyone is betting on when they’ll get married.”
They won’t, because he’s married to me. I want to shout that, but I can’t. And what’s the point anyway? When everyone at the firm believes that Nate and Aspen suit each other.
My opinion doesn’t matter.
Then why does it feel like my heart is about to splinter into a million pieces?
My mood takes a sharp dive for the rest of the day.
Instead of working at my desk amid the hostility, I take the case files and hang with Jane. And by hang, I mean that I work while she types away at her computer.
All the time, I can’t stop thinking about the scene I saw in the parking lot. The synergy between them, the laughs and smiles, and I clink my nails against each other so hard, I break one.
Then I accidentally get a paper cut and my thumb bleeds, and it’s supposed to hurt, but I don’t feel the pain. Because the real pain is banging on the walls of my ribcage.
So I review the case files. All of them. That’s what I do when I’m stressed. I enter high-functioning mode.
And I needed to finish them so I could see him again. I couldn’t just go to his office without having done my work. But now, I have.
So I reorganize the files and the Post-it Notes I made for each detail that could be used as a weakness, as well as my observations through some research I did myself and any advanced research I asked Jane to help with.
I’m feeling confident when I’m carrying them to his office. I did a great job.
My phone vibrates and I juggle the files in one hand and check the text with the other.
Chris: Hey, stranger.
I clink my nails under the papers. After everything that happened over the last couple of weeks, I kind of ghosted my college friends, Chris included. He came by the house soon after Dad’s accident and I told him I needed time to wrap my head around things.
And I did.
The result is that I can’t keep dragging him into my mess anymore. I guess I was just too hopeful when I thought he could make me forget.
I realize now that no one can.
So I type with one hand.
Me: Hey! Sorry I haven’t been around.
Chris: And here I thought you forgot about me.
Me: I haven’t. We need to talk.
Chris: Now?
Me: In a bit.
Chris: Where are you? I’ll pick you up.
Me: I’ll send you the address.
He really doesn’t need to since I have my car, but I forget all about that because I’m in front of Nate’s office and I have all the work done.
So I send him my current location and hide the phone.
“Miss Shaw,” Nate’s assistant, Grace, greets me. She’s a middle-aged woman with a kind smile that I’ve always found heartwarming.
“Is Nate in there? I finished the case files and I think I have solid footing on some weaknesses.”
“He went home for the day.”
“He…what?”
“He went out for lunch and said he wouldn’t be coming back for the rest of the day. I’ll hand them to him tomorrow morning.”
The world starts spinning and it takes superhuman control to place the files on Grace’s desk.
I didn’t hear it wrong.
Nate went out to lunch and called it a day.
With Aspen.
He’s been with Aspen all this time.
The shards that splintered in my chest earlier are digging their way into my heart and I can’t fucking breathe.
But I have to. I need to breathe.
So I go outside to do just that.
