Page 113 of The Suit

“Yes,” I replied, dodging a cyclist as I ran across the path heading up to the Columbia Law School building. “Has the paperwork come back from the judge?”

“No, not yet, but it’s on the way. The clerk just called to say it’s being biked over.”

Since Maynard’s arrest, the judge who’d signed the restraining order on the divorce case had released the current funds available – all forty million – and awarded them to Mrs. Maynard, with the promise of her original ask of seven hundred and fifty million being fulfilled once everything had been recouped, though finding everything could take years. In what I’d come to realize was true Mrs. Maynard style, she only cared that Maynard had been dealt his hand, and promptly swept her kids off on vacation to Disney World, where the only currency she needed to deal with were Disney Dollars.

“Excellent.” I waited outside the law school as a group of students tore through the doors, no doubt rushing to their next class. “Can you also speak to the finance team and make sure our invoice goes out today?”

We, or rather I, had earned close to a one and a half million fee for this case, which would go straight back into the firm. Given that we focused solely on pro-bono work, there wasn’t much fee turnover, so anything that was earned went straight back into paying the running costs of the business. And I don’t think I’d ever felt like I’d earned my fee as much as I’d earned this one.

“Yes, no problem. Are you back in the office today?”

“No.” At least I hoped I wouldn’t be. If things went to plan, I’d be out for the rest of the day.

“Okay, see you tomorrow then. I’ll call if there’s anything urgent.”

She hung up just as I pushed through the big wooden doors, opening to a blast of cool air in the corridor of the enormous square building that looked more like a museum from the outside than the location for some of the future leaders of the United States.

Kit had told me where to go, and I followed the signage, nervous knots building in my belly with every step I took until I reached the lecture hall she’d be in. Before Beulah I’d never been nervous, always blindly trusting everything would be fine, and if it wasn’t, I’d make it fine. But now there was the real possibility I might walk out of here without what I came for, and I was struggling to hold my shit together.

“Dude, are you going in, or just waiting for someone to open the door for you?” a snotty voice from behind me asked, and I turned to find three built guys all wearing identical Columbia Law School hoodies, jeans, and sneakers.

I raised an eyebrow at the tone but stepped aside as they huffed past. I swear I heard one call me a dick and made a mental note to visit HR and check which kids from this course had applied to Van Lancey’s for an internship; theirs would be swiftly denied.

I followed them in, the Tom Ford store bag I was carrying – just like the one I’d left in her office - banged against the door with a thud that caused them to turn around again. This bag was deceptively heavy, the contents something I hoped would go some way to mending for good what had been broken forever.

I slipped into the furthest seat I could find on the back row, shrouded in darkness, while the hall filled with students noisily barging through the doors and sitting down until silence fell, and the only sound I could hear was the whooshing of blood in my ears as my heart thumped so hard against my ribs I was expecting my tattoos to take on a bluish tinge from the bruising.

I blinked, and then there she was.

Huge curls framed her perfect, beautiful face and bounced on her shoulders, making her look as young as our first day of law school and as calm as I’d ever seen her, like she was born to stand in front of a hall full of eager students about to hang on her every word.

I tried to relax, shifting my legs out in front of me and leaning back in my chair, but it didn’t last more than thirty seconds before I had to move forward, resting my elbows on my thighs to stop them from shaking.

I wasn’t sure whether it was the adrenaline sending my nervous system into overdrive or the fact that I’d only been going off stolen images and video feeds, but standing in front of the students, her fresh face reminiscent of the evening we’d spent in the Hamptons, I was having to actively remind myself how to breathe.

She’d stolen the air from the room.

As a sea of hands shot up, I realized I’d been too busy staring at her to hear anything she’d been saying, or that she’d started her class – and from the answers being shouted out, it seemed that she was teaching Constitutional Law.

I chuckled. This topic hadn’t been her favorite at school, though that was likely because she could never beat me, but there was no way her students could tell. Even I couldn’t, and I knew every tell she had. No, right now, she was enjoying herself – made obvious by her head thrown back with laughter at whatever answer the red headed student in the middle of the front row had given her.

It was the quickest hour I’d ever experienced. The entire time I listened, along with nearly every student in the room, with bated breath as she taught them about the history of the Constitution, its importance in the establishment of America’s laws, fundamental rights, and protections. And even though I knew everything there was to know about the Constitution and more, I listened like it was the first time I’ve ever heard it.

She was a natural teacher, and I knew that if she’d been one of my teachers, I’d have worked my ass off just so I could get her to notice me. From the line of students who were queuing to speak to her before they left the hall, I wasn’t the only one with that opinion.

Even the three douches who’d walked in ahead of me were there waiting for a second of her attention.

Good luck with that, fellas.

I got up and made my way to the front, waiting patiently at the side while the last few students filtered out.

Her back was to me but she’d turn around soon, given my heart was now booming so loudly it may as well have been echoing off the hard limestone walls.

I leaned in, brushing the shell of her ear just as she opened her briefcase.

“Are you sure you should be teaching Constitutional Law, seeing as you were second in our class?” I teased.

She screeched and spun round. Her hand flew to her chest when she saw me right before her face became wary and her eyes filled with tears.

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