Page 7 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

Noah bartends at Echo, and I’m a server. The tips are great, and the clientele is tame compared to the chaotic nightlife scene at other clubs.

Noah:Are we still on for our study date in the morning?

Reese:Yup. You’re picking up the snacks, right?

Noah:Got them on my way to work this morning.

Noah:You can crash at my place tonight so you don’t have to go all the way back to Brooklyn.

Reese:I appreciate it. You’re the best.

Noah:Right back at you, babe.

Reese:Have a great day!

I’d be lost without Noah. He’s been my rock, and most days, he acts like a protective big brother and is the only person I trust besides Grams.

We have a lot in common, but the one thing we disagree on is our career paths once we become lawyers. Noah is a court clerk for the New York County Supreme Court and is set on becoming a corporate lawyer. He’s drawn to the financial success that comes with it, whereas I’m passionate about roles that will allow me to advocate for disadvantaged youth.

Unfortunately, becoming a lawyer requires an excessive amount of money. We’re both grappling with the financial challenges of pursuing our goals. We’ve been there for each other throughout this journey so far and plan to take the LSAT together in January.

I stash my phone in the top drawer of my desk and sort through the assignments Rob sent me as I dive into his emails. The next couple of hours fly by, and I’m so focused on my work that when I check the clock, I’m shocked to see it’s already 10:55.

“Shit,” I mumble, scrambling to collect my notebook and pen as I rush down the hall.

Being late to my first all-hands meeting would be the perfect excuse for Rob to fire me, so I’ve got to make it on time. After waiting for the elevator for over a minute, I decide to take the stairs. By the time I reach the top floor, I’m drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. Whoever decided that looking professional included heels has never been late and had to run up multiple flights of stairs.

As I exit the stairwell a few latecomers trickle out of the elevator, and I follow them to a large conference room at the end of the hallway. It has floor-to-ceiling windows that let in a flood of natural light, and the walls are adorned with sleek, modern art. A long conference table is positioned at the center for the partners and executive team, and dozens of chairs are arranged in a semi-circle to accommodate the rest of the staff.

From his spot near the head of the table, Rob shoots me a disapproving glare. I slip into a seat in the far corner, hoping to stay out of his line of sight, and place my notebook and pen on my lap, pretending to jot something down.

A woman in a plaid pink-and-white suit sits beside me. She smiles warmly as she extends her hand. “Hi, I’m Grace Wilford. I’m Sean Huffman’s paralegal. He’s a senior partner.”

“I’m Reese. It’s nice to meet you.” I say, accepting her handshake.

“I’ve heard so much about you already.” She scoots her chair closer. “You’re a legend around here.”

“You must have me confused with someone else,” I tell her nervously. “All I’ve done since I got here is get coffee, answer emails, and file paperwork.”

Grace shakes her head. “Nope. It’s you.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Anyone who can get through a week of working with Rob and still have a smile on their face is a saint in my book.”

My cheeks flush with embarrassment. “He’s complained about me?”

She chuckles when she notices my panicked expression. “I heard him complaining about you to an associate in the breakroom yesterday, but don’t worry—he’s like that with everyone. He might be untouchable because his uncle is the founding partner, but let me know if you ever need help dealing with him. I’ve got your back.” She gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” I respond with a sigh of relief.

“Of course, us paralegals have to stick together.”

At my previous firm, it was a cutthroat environment with everyone vying for the same bonuses and promotions. As a result, making friends was impossible. I’m glad to find that’s not the case here.

“The downside of working here is the lack of eye candy—except for the boss, who’sgorgeous,” Grace says wistfully. “I might be tempted to make a move if I wasn’t engaged and the no-fraternization policy didn’t exist. Although, his attitude has most of us feeling like we’re walking on eggshells, and that’s a deal breaker for me.”

I haven’t met the “boss” yet but assume she means Dawson Tate, the managing partner. I’ve heard whispers in the halls about his exacting standards and prickly disposition; apparently he’s as ruthless as they come. There’s no photo of him on the company website so I’ll have to take Grace’s word about him being attractive.

“That’s okay.” I offer a reassuring smile. “I’m not here for the eye candy anyway, so it’s for the best.”

After my disastrous date with Kevin three months ago, I deleted the dating app from my phone and don’t plan on going on another date anytime soon.

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