Page 2 of Mr. Big Shot

Barrett is holding a coffee cup in his right hand, and when I reach him, I steal it away without a second thought. His wink tells me it was meant for me all along.

“Cutting it kind of close there, sis.”

“I made it,” I say, sounding affronted that he’d ever lose faith in me. He knows I’d never be late today of all days.

“You’re sweating.”

“I’m not.” I aim a harsh glare at him before taking a sip of the drink. He did good; it’s my usual cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso. In a few minutes, I’ll be buzzing, especially considering I didn’t have the stomach for my usual breakfast this morning.

“Slight sheen aside, you certainly look the part.” He takes me in from head to toe, smiling with pride. “The outfit’s great.”

“You think? This wasn’t my first option.”

I decide it’s best not to bring up the bird. I don’t want to reignite my annoyance all over again.

“Yes. It’s perfect.”

“Grandma’s watch,” I say, lifting my wrist so he can see it.

He smiles. “Nice.”

If there’s anyone I’d accept fashion critiques from, it’s Barrett. Today, on a random Tuesday, he’s wearing a dark blue pinstripe suit with a coordinating striped handkerchief folded neatly in his left breast pocket. His tie is the same shade as his suit jacket, and his shirt is a few shades lighter than everything, a bright hydrangea blue. He’s an eye-popping splash of color in an otherwise neutral backdrop.

While most every other profession seems well on their way to embracing casual workplace attire with blue jeans and sneakers, law is not one of them. A firm like Elwood Hoyt is especially concerned with appearances. We offer comprehensive legal services in all corporate law areas. Our clients are large companies, investment vehicles, family officers, and they appreciate the clout and reputation that comes with a firm like ours. They don’t want a schmuck in flip-flops; they want a well-groomed lawyer in a fitted suit, someone who looks and acts like they have their shit together.

Hopefully, that’s me.

Barrett nods toward the elevators. “Let’s go. I’m going to escort you up.”

I let him take the lead as he waves us past security with a flick of his hand as if he owns the place.

“Have you seen Dad this morning?”

“Oh yes. He’s here.”

I swallow down my nerves. “And?”

“And I’m sure you’ll see him before the day is through. Gird your loins.”

I sigh and wait alongside him for one of the dozen elevators to reach the ground floor. A ping sounds behind us, and we turn just as the gleaming doors sweep open.

Once we step in, a young blond guy sporting a freshly minted Elwood Hoyt badge of his own is about to step on board after us when Barrett holds up his hand. “No. Take the next one.”

The man is so stunned he blinks there at the threshold, stupefied as the doors slide shut in front of his face.

“Well that was rude,” I say with a laugh once we’re alone.

“It was necessary.” Barrett turns to me with a determined brow. “I only have a few seconds to talk with you. I’ve been meaning to pull you aside for weeks, but I’ve been busy, per usual. Listen, you don’t have to go through with this.”

I frown. He pauses for a breath, and when he begins again, his words are more earnest than ever.

“No one will think less of you. I swear. You’re the star of our family, the whip-smart baby sister we all love to bits, but this? Taking this role at Elwood Hoyt is completely unnecessary. I mean, look at Mom—where is she right now?”

I frown, unclear where this is going. “In the South of France on a buying trip…”

We spoke just yesterday. She gave me a speech eerily similar to the one Barrett is currently delivering. Have they teamed up on this?

“You could be there with her. You should be,” he says, sounding desperate. Any moment now he’ll start to shake me. “This place is going to eat you alive, Scarlett.”

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