Page 2 of Defensive Hero

“I just moved here.”

“I figured,” he mutters under his breath, but I catch his words. “They must have run out of people in this town that want to work for the man.”

Well, that’s ominous.

It’s surely not the first thing you want to hear about your boss after blowing all your savings to move across the country to a little town in the middle of nowhere. When I first applied for the job, I didn’t expect to get an interview, let alone be offered the job. I was, after all, applying to be the legal assistant to a senior associate. I don’t have enough experience to even qualify for such a position, but I applied anyway. My experience so far has been working with junior lawyers, and I was shocked to even get the interview.

The interview happened over the phone, and the lady on the other end of the line sounded as desperate to hire me as I was to get the job. I was taken aback by that, but I refused tothink too much into it. When I learned that I would have to move across the country for the opportunity, it didn’t even occur to me to say no.

Maybe I should have taken a little more time to think about it and not jump at the first person willing to hire me. There were warning signs about this job that I chose to explain away, including the impressive salary and the assistance with relocation expenses, but now, watching this stranger shake his head at me with pity clear in his eyes makes me think that maybe I should have paid better attention to those warnings after all.

It’s too late to second-guess myself now. I’m already here.

“Thanks for bringing being my guide,” I tell the gentleman. “Which office did you say is Mr. Hile’s again?”

“I didn’t,” he says, his voice much softer and heavy with pity. “But the second door to your left belongs to the head of HR.”

I follow his pointed finger to the door, and I nod, thanking him once more and wishing him a good day before slowly walking toward the door. I knock once before a voice calls out for me to walk in. I hug the contract to my chest as I slowly waddle into the office, careful not to upset the tear in my skirt.

A white-haired lady looks up from the papers on her desk, and her face lights up when she sees me. “You’re here!” she cries out, pushing up from her chair and rushing to me. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you actually showed up.”

I blink owlishly at the lady. Why wouldn’t I show up? She hired me for the job and asked me to come in today.Am I missing something?

“Uh, hi. We spoke on the phone and through emails. My name is—”

“Sandy Beck, yes. You look just like the photo you sent me. You know, sometimes, we get overly edited photos that we have a hard time verifying if it’s indeed the person, but I am happy that is not the case for you,” she says, grabbing my shoulders and guiding me to the visitor’s chair. “My name is Martha Bailey, but everyone calls me Martha.”

“Uh…”

“Did you have trouble finding this place?”

I slowly lower myself to the chair before turning to Martha. “No, the directions you sent me were easy to follow.”

“Excellent. That’s great to hear.” She walks back to her chair and swings it around to face me. “Welcome to Hile Law and Associates. So, I have a few forms for you to sign before I introduce you to the man you’ll be working for.”

Sounds easy enough. “Okay.”

Martha hands me a contract, which I go through, and everything seems in order, so I grab a pen and sign on the dotted line, handing it over to her.

“Great,” Martha says excitedly, grabbing the contract from me quickly, almost as if she’s terrified that I’ll change my mind about the job, but there is no going back. I’m here now, and I will do my best to stay. “Alright then, Miss Beck, let’s go meet Wilson Hile. He is a senior associate, like I told you, and the best criminal defense lawyer in the county.”

I slowly rise from the chair, bracing myself on the desk so as not to make any sudden movements and upset my skirt. Martha seems too excited to tell me all about Mr. Hile’s impressive reputation to notice my discomfort. I don’t focus on her words, too conscious of every move I make in fear I willfurther rip my skirt and embarrass myself in front of my new employer.

We reach the end of the hall, and Martha stops at an empty desk situated outside a door, and I assume that’s going to be my new workstation. Martha confirms it by pointing at the desk. “The last assistant left a few weeks ago, and the desk has been sitting empty since then. Let me know if you need anything changed.”

“Okay,” I say, but she’s already turned around to knock on the large door made of a rich dark wood with a shiny black plaque at the top, indicating the office’s occupant. Martha doesn’t wait for a response before pushing open the door and walking in.

I take in a deep breath and waddle in after her, my eyes taking in everything at once. I notice the opulence that fills the room the second I step inside. The furniture exudes elegance with a grand mahogany desk at the center of the room, complemented by plush leather chairs for guests. The walls are adorned with framed diplomas, certificates, and awards. My eyes shift to the massive shelf built into the wall filled with law books and memorabilia, and for a second, I forget myself. Curiosity almost sends me walking to the shelves for a closer look.

“Miss Beck?”

“Huh?”

My cheeks flare up at being caught gawking, and I straighten up, turning to look at the man seated behind the massive desk, and I suck in a sharp breath as my eyes connect with icy blue ones. They are so cold, they send a shiver trailing up my back.

They are the same blank eyes from the picture on the staircase wall. That photo was an older version of the man before me.

Oh. My new employer must be related to the firm’s founder.

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