Chapter One

Blake - Monday

Most Mondays were hard to get out of bed, but not today. I was up early and dressed in my I-mean-business outfit. With my white silk Chanel shirt, black pencil skirt, and my black Louboutins, I was ready to kick this day’s ass.

Sure, these shoes weren’t ideal for walking in and pinched my feet a little, and it was humid outside, causing me to perspire more than I would have liked, but I wanted to soak up the fresh air. However, that wasn’t always a given in New York City.

As I inhaled, hoping to clear my mind, the smell of sulfur invaded my nostrils, and I coughed, rethinking my decision not to drive. But I quickly shook that feeling off. Nothing was going to rain on my parade. It was my first day as a senior partner at my law firm, and my life was on the right track.

I had a beautiful house and a gorgeous girlfriend, and at thirty-five, I was the youngest attorney to move up the ranks, and I would only go up from here.

With my coffee in hand, my optimism soared. I’d always been a glass-half-empty girl, but that was changing. I needed to realize how lucky I was and how many things I had to look forward to. I centered myself and zoned out all the hustle and bustle around me. Today was my day, and nothing would spoil it.

“Make way, coming through,” a bike messenger shouted as he rode down the crowded sidewalk.

The commotion shook me out of my reverie as people ran to escape a potential disaster. Usually, that would have sent my anger into overdrive, but I was feeling Zen and stopped moving to let him around me. Even though, in my head, that seemed like the polite thing to do, it turned out to be a disaster in the making. With me standing like a statue, people were stumbling over themselves to stay upright.

Feet were flailing, coffees were flying, and my perfect day was turning into a complete disaster. I could tell bruises would form from the elbows that connected with my body. Then the earth started slipping from under my feet, but stable arms wrapped around me, minimizing the potential damage.

As they righted me, I turned to offer my gratitude, but their fingers were like live wires sending electric volts into me. “Ouch.” I pulled back and rubbed the sensitive skin that was tingling. “Thanks for the assist.” I caught sight of my watch and realized I would be late, so I didn’t wait for her response.

I waved over my shoulder as I took off at a walk-jog, but I should have been watching where I was going because if I wasn’t already a mess from being tossed around like a rag doll and all the drinks covering my now see-through shirt, my heel got caught in a metal grate and snapped right off. Maybe this was the universe’s way of teaching me patience. Or maybe it was getting a good chuckle at my expense.

Either way, it didn’t matter because my only option was to hobble into work, or I would be late. As I finally approached the massive gold doors of Wilson, Davis & Sanders. Fresh coffee greeted me, but it only reminded me of the stale coffee I exuded. Maybe I could make it to my office undetected.

But that thought was too good to be true as Ty approached me. “Hey, Blake. Your eight o’clock is in the conference room—” He stopped midsentence and pulled me over to his semi-private cubicle. “What happened to you?” He touched my hair, and I swatted his hand away.

I had to look like a mess, but his expression made me realize it was probably unsalvageable, which caused my anxiety to skyrocket.

“I don’t have time to talk about it. Why are they so early? And what am I going to do?” I hid behind his partition, making sure no one else could see me looking like I was returning from a walk of shame.

“Well…” Ty scrunched his nose as if smelling something gross, which was obviously me. “Maybe we could…” His eyes scanned my messy hair down to my broken shoe. “You could call in sick,” he concluded, and I wanted to scream.

So much for my Zen moment. Steph had been trying to get me to do yoga to help regulate my stress, but my go-to wasn’t to “Keep calm and carry on.” I was more of a “Freak out and lose my shit” person.

“Oh yeah. I might as well tell Greg I couldn’t care less about my promotion and see how long it takes him to rally the other partners against me.” I tried to stuff my thick, messy locks back into the quaffed bun I had them in before the shitshow occurred.

“Stop it. That’s not helping. Why don’t I be your shield while you run into your office? I picked up your dry cleaning on the way, so you at least have another outfit here.”

As much as Ty and I fought like brother and sister, he was truly my best friend and the best assistant I’d ever had.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Of course you do. That’s why you bought me breakfast.” He smiled as he retrieved my credit card.

We had an unspoken relationship: I would make the money, and he would spend it—within reason. I had to put a cap on it, or he would have no problems letting me be his sugar momma. I held back the vomit that threatened to emerge at the idea of Ty and me.

“Give me that, and now cover me.” I figured he would inconspicuously stand up to his full six-two height, which would have been more than enough to block my five-three body, but I was wrong.

He shuffled his feet from side to side with his arms all the way out like he was playing defense in basketball.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. “You’re going to draw attention to us, which defeats the purpose.”

“I was helping, but if you think you can do a better job without me, then…” He started to walk away, and I grabbed him.

“Just act normal, and I will stay out of sight. Okay?”

“Whatever you say.” He sighed and started taking long strides that my little legs had to work overtime to keep up. We finally reached my office, and I was about to shut the door, but he stopped me. “The suit is on the back of the door, but maybe try to cover that…” He wafted his hand in front of his nose.