Page 70 of When You Give a Lawyer a Kiss

I doubt his night ended like it did for Reese and me. Fallon was giving him an earful, not letting him get a word in edgewise. Harrison never did explain what happened between them in the first place, but from what I saw it seems like there was a lot left unresolved.

As I’m putting my phone away, Maxwell Thompson, the founding partner of Thomson & Tate, and Rob’s uncle, bursts into my office. He’s the last person I expected to see today.

After he nearly brought the company to its knees a few years ago, I prohibited him from coming into the office. All our communications are strictly via email and occasionally over the phone. Technically he’s still a partner and has a say in the day-to-day operations, but he’s not permitted to go near the finances, or handle client communications.

When I discovered he’d been embezzling funds, my initial instinct was to expose him, but I knew the fallout for the firm would be irreversible. And he refused to give up his part in the company.

I turn away from my computer and rest my hands on my desk. “Maxwell, what are you doing here?”

“Demanding your resignation,” he snarls.

I let out a humorless laugh. “Is that so?”

“Damn right it is. You practically ripped my company out from under my feet. Did you really think I would just let it go?” He slams his fist on my desk. “I’ve been biding my time until Icould strike back and take my rightful place at the helm, with Rob as a managing partner.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Rob can’t even manage his own workload, let alone run a firm. Not to mention his treatment of his co-workers is an HR disaster waiting to happen.” I sit up straight in my chair. “You better have some damning evidence against me if you’re planning to oust me.”

“Oh, I do.” He slams a dossier on the desk.

I eye the folder suspiciously. It was only a matter of time before he tried pulling a stunt like this. He probably figured that if he waited long enough, I’d become complacent and let my guard down.

He was wrong.

Maxwell grits his teeth when I don’t move to inspect the folder. The sweat on his brow betrays his rising unease that his plan isn’t having the impact he expected. After several seconds of staring me down he finally caves, opening the file himself and shoving a picture toward me. It’s a street view of Steel & Ink. I’m standing out front talking to Mickey. It’s summertime, and my sleeves are rolled up, revealing my tattoos.

“You’ve been having me followed.” I state. For at least a year, based on when this was taken.” I motion to the photo.

“Are you forgetting I’m the one who taught you the importance of gathering intel?”

I shake my head, keeping my hands clasped. “No, but I hope that’s not all you’ve got. You’re a bigger fool than I realized if you think threatening me over a few tattoos is going to get me to quit.”

“I figured you might say that.” A sadistic smile crosses his lips as he sinks into the chair across from mine. He flips to another picture in the folder and taps it for emphasis. “What about fraternizing with your paralegal? Your muchyoungerparalegal? Is that enough incentive for you?”

Son of a bitch.

A low growl escapes my lips. The photo is of me and Reese holding hands, and she’s lifting on her toes to kiss me. It was taken the day we went to visit Georgia, right after we left Oak Ridge.

“This is rather damning, wouldn’t you say?” Maxwell taunts, his expression full of satisfaction. “If word gets out that you’re fucking your paralegal, you’ll both be finished,” he warns, his tone threatening.

I stay still, my eyes narrowing on him. “What is it you want Max?”

“Like I said, for you to resign immediately.” He sounds pleased with himself.

“You do remember the firm was hemorrhaging money when you hired me, right? Who’s to say that won’t happen again when I’m gone? Our highest profitable clients are onesI’vebrought in and they are loyal to me.”

When Maxwell brought me on as a first-year attorney, the firm was in a dire state. Their history of unresolved client disputes and frequent litigation losses was well-known. Despite having offers from other respectable firms, I was drawn to the challenge, and saw an opportunity to make myself indispensable if I could help turn their reputation around.

It soon became evident that information was the key to gaining power and winning cases. With nothing to lose, and a faulty moral compass, I leveraged that to set myself up for success. Within a record five years, I made partner.

When I uncovered Maxwell’s corrupt business dealings, I demanded that most of the senior partners be fired and replaced with attorneys who were willing to work to make Thompson & Tate a reputable firm. Now, I have a decision to make—prepare for a complicated legal battle to maintain all the progress I’ve made or take a risk and venture out on my own.

I open the bottom drawer of my desk and pull out a dossier of my own. It’s the ace card I’ve been holding on to, waiting for the right opportunity to play it.

“You’re not the only one who’s done his research.” I slide the documents toward Maxwell. “You’ve been busy. Tell me, Max, does your family know you’ve been gambling with their inheritance or that you sold the beach house in the Hamptons? Something tells me they wouldn’t be happy if they found out.” I pull out another folder and place it on top of the other.

“What is that?” he demands.

A smirk crosses my lips knowing that I’ve got him right where I want him. “This little old thing?” I hold up the two-inch-thick binder. “It’s a collection of all your misdeeds, and your nephew’s too. It turns out Rob is like you in more ways than one.” I flip open the folder and push it toward Maxwell.

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