Page 16 of The Lawyer
I sigh. “No, Jackson.”
“A private performance. At his house. That’s it.”
He's sounding desperate.
My eyes narrow as I turn my body to face him. It's not beyond the realms of possibility that he could need me to do this for some reason. “And what guarantees do I have that he’ll not try anything, hey?”
“I can vouch for him,” he says, reaching out for my hand. I slide it out of the way before he makes contact, the bag already over my shoulder and my feet walking for the door. “I’m serious, June. I’d never let anything happen to you. This one is different. He's solid. You won't have any problems.”
“Okay, and just what figure are we talking about here?” Jackson is never this serious about offers. He normally lets me dismiss them quickly, and we go back to our loose friendship.
“Five grand, minus my cut.” God, that’s a lot of money. “You get to keep it if he cancels or not.” He pulls out a piece of paper, hands it to me. “Rules already set up. Check them out.”
My backside lands on the chair again, eyes scanning through the document. No touching. No expectation for me to do anything other than dance. Five thousand pounds.
He chuckles and looks me over. “So. Tempted?”
Yes. I am.
Chapter Seven
LANDON
An afternoon of yet more legal documentation to deal with and I’m about fit to blow.
I wait in the lift, eyes focused on the mirror reflecting my own image back. I’m not truly looking at it; I’m trying to calm my fury down into my normal mask of indifference. I’m not indifferent, and how this company has managed to keep its own ship tight enough before my return is anyone’s guess. Problem after problem, all of our own making. It’s not happening anymore. In fact, I might just sack the whole damn legal department if this crap is what I’m going to have to deal with on a daily basis.
And let’s not even begin with sales and profitability.
The eventual surprise on the head of the legal team’s—David Joiners—face isn’t warranted as I step into the offices. He should have known I’d be down here soon. Given his constant inability to get any damn contract or agreement correct, he’s fucking lucky I haven’t brought him up on some charges of my own yet.
“Mr Broderick.”
“Where is Tonya Averril?”
“She’s over in the corner office.”
I bypass him and head straight for her, intent on getting this done before I leave the building this evening. “David, follow me.”
The second I reach her office door, I walk straight on in. Her head pops up out of a stack of files not dissimilar to my own. She seems surprised as she stands. That probably is warranted.
“Mr Broderick, what can I do for you?” she asks, straightening her shirt.
“You can get all your things moved to the other larger corner office, formally David’s. You’ll be taking over here as of Monday next week.”
He’s around in front of my face before I can carry on. “You can’t do that!” he shouts.
“I can. And just have done.”
I brace my hands in my pockets to make sure I don’t punch him in the face.
“But I have a contract. You can’t just abandon that!”
I move around to the other side of Tonya’s desk, brow arched to ask her to move out of the fucking way so I can get to her keyboard. She does, quite efficiently, and gives me enough space to input my codes and bring up the employee contracts. I spin the screen the second I’ve found what I’m after, showing him the one piece of information that proves his contract absolutely obsolete because of his own stupidity. “You mean this contract?”
His eyes widen moments after he’s read the clause I’ve highlighted.
“Perhaps, as head of a huge legal team, you should have fucking read the damn thing before signing it.” Four strides and I’m in his face, my size backing him out of the room as I go. “Tonya, organise whatever you need. Come straight to my inbox should anything hinder that.”
