Page 30 of Summer Showdown
Bailey Wilder defied my expectations completely. In my experience, women who left big firms for small-town practice usually did so because they couldn't handle the pressure. But Bailey exuded confidence and sharp intelligence, her handshake firm, her gaze direct and assessing. Her office told its own story—meticulously organized law books shared shelf space with family photos and handcrafted pottery, suggesting a life carefully balanced rather than surrendered.
"Rory had mentioned you might call," she said, gesturing to a chair across from her desk. "She didn't give details, just that you might need some professional perspective."
I settled into the chair, hesitating over how much to reveal. "I'm in a complicated situation with my firm in Chicago," I began, choosing my words carefully. "There was a breachof confidential information regarding a major merger I was handling. Somehow my login credentials were associated with the access, though I had nothing to do with it."
Bailey nodded, her expression revealing nothing. "And you've become the scapegoat."
It wasn't a question. "Apparently," I admitted. "I just received notice of an emergency board meeting tomorrow. The timing suggests decisions have already been made."
"Partnership track?" she asked.
My eyebrows rose. "Yes. How did you know?"
"Because that's when firms tend to play their dirtiest," she said, leaning back in her chair. "Politics is as much a factor as performance in these situations." She tapped her pen against her legal pad. "Who stands to benefit most from your removal?"
The directness of her question caught me off guard. "My main competition for the single partnership opening is another senior associate, Andrew Cavendish. He's the one who 'discovered' the breach."
"Quite the coincidence," Bailey remarked, arching an eyebrow. "Any allies in senior management?"
"I thought so. James Keller, the managing partner, has been my mentor since I joined the firm. But lately..." I trailed off, unable to articulate the subtle shift I'd sensed. "Sloane Rafferty, another senior associate who's close with several partners, has been unusually involved in the situation. She's been calling repeatedly since I arrived in Wintervale."
"Pay attention to that," Bailey advised. "Sometimes the people who appear most helpful are actually protecting other interests." She made a note on her legal pad. "You mentioned she's been calling. What's her angle?"
I frowned, considering. "Supposedly to keep me updated. She’s been a friend to me, but we’re really not that close."
"Someone in her position could potentially be involved if she wanted to," Bailey observed. "Though without more evidence, it would be premature to make accusations." She made a few notes. "I'd need to look into this more thoroughly if you decide to formally engage my services."
The suggestion that I might need to officially hire Bailey hadn't occurred to me, but it made sense. This situation was growing beyond what I could handle alone, even with my own legal expertise.
Bailey's expression softened, though her posture remained professional. "Perfection is an impossible standard, especially for women in our field. No matter how many hours you bill or clients you bring in, there's always someone looking for a reason why you don't belong at the table."
Her words struck a chord so deep I had to look away, blinking back tears that threatened to form. "So what's the alternative? Abandon everything I've worked for?"
"Not necessarily," she replied. "Sometimes what seems like failure opens the door to something better." She gestured around her office. "I came to Wintervale for a case and found a different kind of future than I expected. I won't pretend small-town practice is as lucrative as big law, but I sleep better at night."
The parallel to my own situation—coming to Wintervale for one reason and finding something unexpected—wasn't lost on me.
"I'm not suggesting you make any hasty decisions," Bailey continued. "But consider this an opportunity to reevaluate whatyou really want, not just what you've been conditioned to pursue."
"And in the meantime?" I asked. "The board meeting is tomorrow."
"Attend virtually," she advised. "Present your case calmly and professionally. Don't let them rush you into a resignation if that’s what they’re trying to do here—make them fire you if that's their intent. It gives you more leverage for severance and future opportunities." She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a business card, writing a number on the back. "This is my direct line. Call me after the meeting if you'd like to discuss next steps more formally."
As I stood to leave, Bailey added, "And Lark? Whatever you decide about your career, be honest with the people who matter. When we're facing difficult choices, we often need allies more than we realize."
Her insight resonated with surprising force. "Thank you," I said, tucking her card into my purse. "I may need to call you sooner rather than later."
"That's what I'm here for," she replied with a professional smile. "Good luck at the regatta."
***
By the time I reached the lake, preparations for the race were in full swing. Colorful kayaks lined the shore, their decorations ranging from simple streamers to elaborate themed designs. Near the water's edge, workers arranged chairs and positioned a flower-draped arch for the wedding scheduled to follow the race.
The hum of excited voices filled the air, mixing with the gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the distant cry of ospreys circling overhead. The scent of lake water mingled withfood from nearby concession stands, creating a quintessential summer atmosphere.
I spotted our green tandem kayak among the others, its carved wildlife details and woven wildflowers drawing admiring comments from passersby. Wade stood nearby, his tall frame easy to pick out as he chatted with Logan. They were sorting through life vests, Logan's animated gestures suggesting he was as excited about the race as the younger participants.
My stomach tightened as if I were standing at the edge of a cliff, one step from freefall. How could I tell him I might have to leave just as we'd found each other?
