Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Ellis

Victor and Clayton were already waiting in the lobby of the Callahan-Swabb Corporate Law offices when I arrived for our first meeting as interns.

"Well, apparently they'll let anyone have an internship these days," Victor said when he saw me.

I rolled my eyes. "Nice to see you, too."

"Way to go, Ellis!" Clayton said. "I didn't expect you to make the cut."

"Turns out I'm not just a pretty face."

"But it doesn't hurt," he said with a chuckle. "If the jurors want to bang you?—"

"Clay!" Victor interrupted. "Let me fix your tie."

I moved to the far end of the lobby, but there was no escaping my failed love life. Of all the students who could have won a spot here, it just had to be my ex and my replacement.

The shiny engagement band flashed on Victor's finger, and he kept touching Clayton, first to smooth a wisp of his hair back from his forehead, then to straighten his tie, then to tug at his belt so the buckle was centered.

I snorted with amusement. I couldn't help it. Did Victor dress Clayton in the morning, too?

"Something to say?" Victor raised his eyebrow in challenge.

"No." I glanced at my ex-boyfriend. "You look very nice, Clay. Now that your belt is perfectly positioned, I'm sure you'll win the case."

"You're such a?—"

The door on the right opened, and Jordan emerged, saving me from Victor's fiery comeback.

"Hey guys, I've got the conference room all set up. Follow me."

His hair was a little messy, like he'd combed his fingers through it a time or three. His orange-and-green plaid tie was adorably dorky.

And his belt…

My gaze dropped to his waist before I jerked it away. His belt was perfectly fine, even if it was slightly off-center, and I didn't need to be looking anywhere near there.

Clay had always projected a perfect image. Hair carefully styled, clothes immaculate, a real Prince Charming type. At least on the outside.

Jordan was concerned with more important things than vanity, and it showed, and yet…all those little imperfections weren't flaws at all. They made him Jordan, the incredibly smart, generous, loyal guy that had gotten me here.

And why are you comparing them? What is the point of this, El?

We filed through the door after Jordan, following him to a conference room with a large glass table at its center. Professor Callahan was already inside, seated in a corner away from the table, a murder mystery novel in his hand.

Jordan waved toward the table. "I've made copies of the case file. Take a quick look. Our client, Mary Anne Diedritch, will join us in a few minutes."

"We're meeting the client today?" Clayton sounded nervous. "But we don't know anything yet."

"Then I suggest you start reading," Jordan said.

I took a seat and flipped open the case file. "Wait, Diedritch? Any relation to Alex Diedritch?"

"She's his wife. He died a few months ago, and she's now the sole owner of their gym, Flex."

"Oh, that's so sad. He was an amazing guy. He founded?—"

"Can we save the chitchat for later?" Victor interrupted. "I'm trying to read the file."

My face heated. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Jordan said. "You have background on the client that could be helpful. Why don't we read the file and meet with Mrs. Diedritch. Then, if there are any blanks you can fill in, we'd all be wise to listen."

I nodded and flipped open the folder, glancing down at the case file.

Robert McIntyre, plaintiff, v. Mary Ann Diedritch, Flex Gym Inc., defendant.

I skimmed over the boring details, such as the addresses where the plaintiff and defendant reside, the location of the gym, and the date of the incident. What caught my attention was the claim itself:

The plaintiff alleges that while using a piece of gym equipment at Flex Gym Inc., the backboard collapsed while he was using a resistant pulley, causing him to fall and tear his rotator cuff. The injury required a trip to the ER, followed by surgery and rehabilitation.

I cringed. Gym accidents happened, but unless there was negligence…

Another sentence lower on the page caught my eye.

The plaintiff alleges he reported the malfunctioning equipment to the gym management more than once. They assured him it would be addressed but were negligent in doing so.

Well, shit.

I finished skimming the file, but it didn't look too good for Mary Ann. The plaintiff wanted medical expenses covered, plus some extra for pain and suffering.

Why would the Diedritches ignore such a concern though? Every gym owner knew the liability risks. They wouldn't take that lightly. It's possible a staff member didn't understand the significance, or the message got lost in translation, but if he'd reported it more than once…

It just didn't make sense.

I fidgeted, my head full of questions, but I didn't want to interrupt since Jordan had told me to wait until later. My chair squeaked loudly, making everyone glance at me.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I'm just…"

I trailed off without a proper explanation. I'd been restless all day, which was unusual for me. My exercise regimen kept me settled in my body.

But this was not a normal day—and not just because it was the first time I'd be contributing to a real case. Just this morning I'd been half-naked with Jordan—I'd hugged him while half-naked—and ever since, I'd been unsettled.

I'd gone into the locker room with him without thinking anything of it. I worked at a gym; I was used to stripping down around people.

But he was clearly uncomfortable, and then I'd gone and hugged him while both of us were shirtless and…that I was not used to doing.

My body had lit up at the contact, and there was really no denying I was attracted to Jordan. But what about Clayton? I glanced sidelong to see him and Vic with their heads close together, holding a hushed conversation.

Seeing them so close together didn't upset me as it once had. I'd been desensitized to it, maybe. Clay was a man I'd loved, a man I was prepared to marry.

That didn't just go away, did it?

The door opened, and the secretary introduced Mrs. Diedritch, a petite older lady with silver hair pulled up in a bun. Jordan met her at the door and guided her to a seat, then sat down next to her.

"Mrs. Diedritch, thanks for joining us. We wanted to speak to you to get a better understanding of your gym before we move forward with the case. Would you like any water or coffee?"

"Some water would be lovely, dear."

"I'll get it," Victor said, jumping up to fetch the pitcher of ice water that sat on a small cart in the corner.

"Thank you, Vic," Jordan said, sounding surprised.

"Mrs. Diedritch, I hope you don't mind me saying," I said, "but I was a real fan of your husband, Alex."

"As was I, dear," she said with a sad chuckle. "He was quite a man."

"I loved his STD Workout Program. In high school, I watched all his videos and?—"

"STD?" Clayton said with a snort. "You must be joking."

Mary Ann shook her head, smiling fondly. "I told him that name would get him in trouble, but he thought it was hilarious, and it certainly made the name stick with people."

"It's an acronym," I explained. "It stands for Strength and Training with Diedritch."

"That's not what this case is about though, correct?" Victor interjected as he placed the glass of water before Mary Ann. "This is a lawsuit against your gym for faulty equipment."

"That's right." She sighed and shook her head. "I just don't understand it. Alex was always so conscientious. He would never neglect safety concerns. I feel just awful this poor man was hurt, and I offered him what I could?—"

"You offered him a settlement?" Jordan asked.

"When he reported what happened, I didn't want to get lawyers involved. But the injured parties weren't happy with my offer. After Alex's death, well… There's been a lot of unforeseen expenses, and I don't know the gym like he does. Alex would know exactly what to do. This would never happen if he were here."

She paused to blink gleaming eyes, and I laid my hand over hers. "Oh, Mary Ann, I'm so sorry this is all happening. We're going to do everything we can to help you."

She gave me a trembly smile. "You're so kind, dear. I'm glad to have someone on the legal team who knew my Alex and what he stood for. You know he'd never run a negligent operation."

"I know," I said with a nod. "I've been to the gym in the past. I'd like to visit again. Take a look at this piece of gym equipment?" I glanced at Jordan. "If that's okay?"

Jordan nodded. "Mrs. Diedritch, we'll conduct some interviews with other gym staff members and visitors, if you don't object. We need to get to the bottom of this claim and determine if it's legitimate."

"And if it is?" she asked, wary.

"Well, if the gym was actually negligent?—"

Callahan interrupted, his voice booming from the corner. "We'll do everything in our power to show that you weren't knowingly negligent of gym members' safety, Mrs. Diedritch. Your case is in good hands."

Mrs. Diedritch left soon after, and Callahan stood. "I'll go too. Jordan, sorry for interfering, but clients need reassurance, not cold hard truths. Ellis, you were too friendly. We want the client to think we're professionals, not her long-lost grandson. Victor, you struck just the right balance, I think. You were quick to see to the client's needs and you redirected her to the matter at hand when she got sidetracked. Good job."

"Thank you," Victor said, sending me a victorious look.

But Callahan wasn't done. "Clayton, you might as well have been a houseplant for all that you contributed. Get your head in the game."

"I was listening respectfully," Clayton objected.

"You were bored, and everyone in the room could see it, including Mrs. Diedritch."

Professor Callahan exited, and Clayton huffed. "I wasn't bored."

"Mm-hmm." Victor sounded skeptical.

"I wasn't!" Clay turned to me. "Ellis, you know me better than anyone."

Victor pushed from his seat. "Are we done here? I've got a party to get ready for."

"A party?" I perked up. My social calendar had been severely lacking since taking on law school.

"Yeah, just off campus. Clay and I are both helping set up."

"I see how dedicated you are when Callahan isn't in the room," Jordan said with an eye roll. "But yes, we're almost done. Read the file more exhaustively. Look for any detail that might help. We've got an inventory of the gym equipment, when it was purchased, how often it's inspected. Victor, since you impressed Callahan, that's your job."

"What? But that sounds tedious and?—"

"Boring. Should I give it to Clay instead?"

Victor looked so conflicted I almost laughed. "Why not give it to Ellis? He's the big gym enthusiast."

"Because Ellis already showed some initiative by asking to go check out the equipment in the complaint. That will be his job. Clay, I want you to check out this defendant. Dig into his background and see if he's ever pulled any scams or filed frivolous lawsuits before. See if he's in debt."

"Why does he get that job?" Victor demanded.

"He'll know how a guy like this thinks," Jordan said.

There wasn't a hint of scorn in his tone, and yet his message came across clearly. He thought Clayton was cut from the same cloth as someone who might sue for the wrong reasons.

"What will you do be doing?" Clayton asked. "Because someone needs to talk to the gym staffers."

"I'll be joining El for that task," Jordan said. "All right, everyone. Go have fun at your party, because starting tomorrow, we need to be focused on this case."

Victor and Clay left quickly. I lingered a minute.

"Kind of harsh on Clay, weren't you?"

Jordan grimaced. "You didn't mind when I was harsh on Victor."

My turn to grimace. "Guess that's a fair point."

"Don't listen to Callahan, Ellis. Being friendly to clients, making them feel seen and cared for, is not a bad thing."

I shrugged. "Maybe I could have been more professional. I don't know how to detach."

"That's one of your best traits. You care."

I got lost in his eyes for a long moment. The air in the room thickened with tension.

Jordan cleared his throat, breaking eye contact. "I've got a few more things to do here. I guess I'll see you at the gym tomorrow. I'll text you about a time."

"You could go to the party tonight?"

"Not really my scene. But have fun."

"I've got to get an invite first." I waved a hand toward the door. "I better go see if I can catch Victor off-guard."

He smiled. "Good luck."

I caught up with Victor and Clayton on the sidewalk outside, where they appeared to be arguing.

"Hey, guys!"

They turned toward me, Clayton looking relieved and Victor annoyed.

"About this party…"

"You should come," Clay said. "It starts at nine at 729 Camille St." He glanced at his phone. "Gotta run."

To my surprise, he took off without Victor.

"Thanks for the invite," I said tentatively. "I haven't been to a party in so long. Is it formal or casual?"

"It's a costume party," Vic said. "You probably won't have time to find something."

"Oh, I'll figure something out! I love costume parties."

"Okay, then. I guess we'll see you there."

"Awesome!" I called as he walked away. "Can't wait!"

Victor didn't answer, but that was okay, because I'd scored a party invite, and for the first time in months, I was going out.

With a little more socializing, I could show Clay what he was missing and remind myself why I wanted to be with him.

Maybe then, this odd little crush I was forming on Jordan would fade back into the feelings of friendship it was supposed to be.