7

The next morning, I filled my travel mug with coffee and set it on the small table at the entrance, where I threw my keys every night. I'd thrown my coat on the chair as well, not having the energy to hang it after the day I had yesterday.

I put on my coat and checked the pockets for the gloves I'd stuffed in there last night. When I pulled them out, something fell to the floor and ricocheted down the hallway. I blinked, trying to make out the object. It was a white circular object with a black circle on top. My suspicion grew as I got nearer and when I saw the bitten apple logo, I knew. That was how he'd tracked me to work. I shook my head, annoyed with myself for not having found it sooner.

He was parked outside of my building, waiting in his black SUV. I hated that car.

He'd tried to come in to ‘sweep the rooms' last night, but I flatly refused. He must have read the exhaustion on my face because he hadn't argued further. I would have felt terrible that he'd slept in his cold truck all night if I didn't know he had a warm bed of his own he could sleep in if he would just listen and leave me the heck alone. He started his car when I stepped outside and followed me closely the whole way to the office. I didn't try to lose him this time. What was the point? He knew where I worked.

"Hello, Mary," I said as I walked by her desk.

"Good morning, Ms. Adams," she replied and smiled, but her gaze passed me. Judging by the heavy footsteps behind me, I knew the smile was for him. I rolled my eyes as I climbed up the steps.

Once inside my office, I shut the door, knowing he would be standing there. I didn't want the constant reminder of how my mother was still interfering with my life. If I shut the door, I could ignore the entire ordeal and eventually, it would go away. Shutting the world out worked in the past. I learned it from my mother.

I kept up this routine for the next few days: waking up, going to work, closing my office door, driving home to sleep, then starting the day all over again.

Sarah had texted me a few times, checking in on me, but I only liked her messages, not ready to talk about this situation yet. But when another text came in, I finally messaged her back: I'm sorry I've been quiet. Still trying to process everything. I'm fine. Just a lot going on right now. And I'm not sure if you know this, but your brother is my bodyguard.

I'd barely sent the message when my phone rang. I wasn't surprised to see Sarah's face on my phone.

"Hello?"

"What do you mean, my brother is your bodyguard?"

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "I guess he didn't tell you. I should have figured you would have called me if he did."

"Of course, I would. What's going on? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. My mother received a threatening email and now it's like DEFCON 1 around here."

"Did you just use a military term? Is my brother rubbing off on you?"

I could hear her smile through the phone. "Don't be ridiculous, there is no rubbing going on."

She laughed.

"I mean, no, of course not. We've barely spoken."

"Oh. That's too bad. I was starting to think the universe was conspiring with me on this."

"The only thing the universe is conspiring on is to help that man humiliate me."

"Oh, he's not like that."

"Oh, he really is, Sarah. I hate to be the one to burst your bubble. But your brother really isn't a nice guy."

Sarah was quiet, and I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry, Sarah. That was a really shitty thing to say."

"You just don't know him yet."

Perhaps.

My experience had been limited to one blind date, or rather, nearly one blind date. "You're right. He's probably a great brother."

"Maybe I can come by tonight and help bridge the gap between the two of you."

"That's really not necessary. Besides, he stays in his car."

"In the cold?" she said, her voice rising.

She made it sound so… well, so awful. "I'm not the one asking him to stay there. He's welcome to go home."

There was silence on the line for a second and then she added, "I'll bring dinner for the three of us."

Oh no! I shook my head, even though Sarah couldn't see it.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"We all have to eat. Might as well eat together. Besides, you haven't tried my lasagna yet and I can defrost one from the freezer. It's no trouble at all."

Lasagna sounded terrific after all the packaged soups and salads I'd been eating. And I didn't want to hurt Sarah's feelings again, so I asked, "Six-thirty okay?"

"Perfect," said Sarah. "See you then."

I groaned but got to work.

I didn't check my phone until my stomach growled three hours later. It was only twelve thirty, but I was starving. I'd brought a microwave dinner for lunch and, while it wasn't my favorite, I wasn't very picky about food. Especially when I didn't have to make it.

I swung open my office door and tried my best to ignore him, but he wore a black suit and tie today and I'd always been a sucker for a man in a black suit.

I heard his footfall behind me as he trotted down the stairs. I held onto the railing, terrified I'd miss a step and fall flat on my face.

I turned before I walked down the hallway to the lunchroom. "I'm just breaking for lunch. You don't need to follow me in there."

He didn't even blink.

"If you sit on this couch, you'll have a perfect view of the lunchroom without actually being in it. Deal?"

He stepped once to his right, checking the angle. "Fine."

I sighed in relief. "Thank you."

I saw Christina as she left her office. "Hey," I called out.

She nodded once and waited for me.

"You're not taking lunch upstairs with management?"

The second floor had its own lunchroom, but I'd refused to go in there.

"No. My office upstairs is only temporary," I said.

"It is?" she asked. Her tone was very matter-of-fact. She hadn't raised an eyebrow or anything.

"It is." I smiled. "Are you heading to the lunchroom? I was just about to go there myself."

"I am."

We walked down the hallway and just as we were about to enter the room, I heard someone say, "Who the hell is she, anyway? The boss's side piece?"

"I don't know, but she gets bumped to the second floor after less than a month here. She's definitely putting in extra hours somewhere," the female voice laughed. I stood next to the refrigerator so I couldn't see to whom the voices belonged, and they obviously didn't see me.

"Don't you guys know? Haven't you noticed the security guard that follows her?" That was Calvin's voice.

"Know what?"

"You're shitty lawyers. It only took me a few searches to discover she's the governor's daughter."

"Ohhhh. That's why she was hired and why she's already been pushed to the second floor. Figures. Some of us—"

Christina cleared her throat and walked toward them. "You—"

I didn't hear the rest of what she said because I ran down the hallway to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

My coworkers were gossiping about me and thought the worst of me—they thought I'd gotten the job because of my mother. Tears streamed down my face and I pushed them away, but they wouldn't stop falling.

Why did this always happen? Why did she always have to ruin everything? I knew I'd earned my spot here, but now I'd have to prove myself over and over again, and that may not be enough to polish what has now become my tarnished reputation. I balled my fists and punched the steel door. The entire stall shook, but not nearly as violently as I did.

Pull yourself together, Nikole. You're proving Jake right by acting childish like this. It doesn't matter what they think, only the truth matters.

But what was the truth? Yes, Governor Adams was my mother, but she didn't help me get this job. I earned it. I would hold my head up high and walk out of this bathroom.

I opened the stall and walked up to the mirror. My eyes were red and swollen.

Ok, maybe I'll walk out in five minutes.

I was waving my hands over my face when Christina opened the door. I quickly dropped my hands and turned on the faucet to wash them.

"I'm sorry. Some people in this office are real jerks. They won't bother you again."

From what I knew, Christina had been working for the firm for nearly five years and was close to becoming a senior associate.

She turned to leave but I called out, "Wait!"

She held the door open as she looked over her shoulder. I had no idea what she had said, but she had stood up for me, I was sure of it.

"Thank you," I said. She nodded once and left.

Taking in a few calming breaths, I walked out of the bathroom and nearly ran into Jake.

"Are you all right?" he asked and scrutinized my face and body.

I knew his concern was part of his job, but it felt good to be asked, nonetheless.

"Yes, thank you. I'm fine."

He handed me my frozen dinner. "You dropped this."

I stared at the package. The roast beef and mashed potatoes had looked so appealing when I'd purchased the dinner, but now my stomach turned. "I'm not hungry," I said and walked back to my office.

I sat at my desk, ignored the snarling growls of my stomach, and worked for the next two hours.

At two in the afternoon, I pushed away from my desk. I had thirty minutes to get downtown to the courthouse to meet my client. It was only a bail hearing, but it would be the first time I was meeting with him face-to-face. This wasn't a big case, but the client was one of the partner's good friends. I knew he would report his dealings with me to my superiors.

"Listen, I need you to stay here while I deal with this bail hearing," I told Jake when I stepped out of my office. I put my coat on and was walking down the steps when I heard him behind me. "I mean it, Jake."

"I'm sure you do, but that won't happen, Ms. Adams."

I looked up at the ceiling and pivoted when I reached the bottom of the steps. He grabbed the railing, trying to hold himself back from running into me.

"Stay," I growled.

"I'm not your dog."

"No, a dog would be loyal, and listen to me," I muttered as I walked out the door. I thought I heard him snicker.

Traffic was terrible in Manhattan, but fortunately, Sarah had shown me the side streets to take when I first arrived. Jake drove behind me the entire time, his black SUV on my tail the whole way.

Again, I wished I could run up the steps to get away from him, but I had to be satisfied with a brisk walk.

I tried one more time before entering the courthouse. "I beg you," I said, meaning it. "Just wait here. There is security inside the courthouse. I'll be safe."

"Security is not prepared to prevent an attack on you. Only I can do that."

I frowned and crossed my arms. "Now, who's the arrogant one?"

He shrugged. "It's true, though."

Stepping inside the courthouse, I looked around. I couldn't find my client, so I texted him to see if he was already here. A minute later, he texted me that he was stuck in traffic but should arrive in fifteen minutes. That was plenty of time before we had to appear in court.

With a sigh, I looked around the foyer. There was a crowd standing in front of one of the courtrooms and a steady stream of newcomers entering through security. "Why don't you wait by the exit doors over there?"

Jake didn't even turn his head. "I'm staying right here."

I imagined talking to my client and his gaze drifting to the tall, muscular man who stood five feet away from me with an earpiece and I groaned. "Can you at least turn your back and pretend to not know me?"

His lips twitched. "Sure. Right after I frisk him."

I growled. I actually growled. This infuriating man was driving me mad. I closed my eyes and gathered my wits.

A thought popped into my head.

No, that's not a good idea.

I shouldn't do it.

I was a grown woman and a lawyer.

But I didn't want to explain to a client who this brooding man was standing next to me. If I could meet the client alone first, he wouldn't even notice Jake in the courtroom.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I said before I could change my mind. Jake nodded, and I took off down the hallway. I was nearly jogging down the marble floors and yanked the large gold handle to open the bathroom door. There were three stalls, and I dropped to my haunches to check if anyone was inside. A woman with sensible shoes was in the middle stall. I tapped my foot on the floor, waiting for her to finish, but I didn't have much time to lose.

I went over to the window and opened it. It was too high for me to jump, so I turned over the trash can. The metal rim banged on the floor, and I jumped at the sound.

"Hey!" the lady shouted from the stall. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I said as I climbed on top of the trash can. "I just knocked over the trash."

I heaved myself onto the windowsill and sat my butt down. Fortunately, the bathroom faced a quiet side of the building, so I spun on my rump and jumped down onto the grass below.

Oof!

I didn't land as elegantly as I'd pictured in my mind, as I spiked myself into the ground with my stilettos and rolled onto the grass, stopped by the trunk of a nearby tree.

Ouch!

I rubbed my knees and ran back for my shoes, yanking them from the cold ground. I kept them off as I ran up the steps of the courthouse, only slipping them on when I was at the front doors.

My phone buzzed.

I'm here. Where are you?

I quickly shot a message back to my client that I would be right with him.

After smoothing down my shirt and hair, I grabbed the frigid door handle and walked inside.

I spotted my client to my right, recognizing him from the picture in his file.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Sewell. I'm Nikole Adams, your attorney."

Mr. Sewell's features crinkled, and his gaze kept roaming above my eyes. I wiped my forehead and showed him to the courtroom where his case would be heard.

A few minutes later, I didn't turn around. I didn't dare look for Jake inside the courtroom. But I knew he was here. I felt the tension in my shoulders.

I walked up to the defense's table and sat next to my client.

I opened my files and waited for the prosecutor to state his case for no bail. When he finished, I stood with no expression on my face. "Your honor, my client has no previous record. He is an upstanding member of the community, and the prosecution's case has only circumstantial evidence—"

"This is ridiculous, your honor. Just look at her."

Instinctively, I flinched, taken aback by his remark. But I recovered quickly. "I'm not finished," I said, directing my comment to the rude attorney. "I have a wiretap here," I pulled out the transcript.

"Your honor, she cannot submit evidence at this time."

"I can," I informed him, "As it is an intercepted communication that exonerates my client."

"Let me see that, Ms. Adams." The judge waved me to approach the bench, and I handed him my notes. While he reviewed them, I snuck a peek at the prosecutor's desk and they were arguing amongst themselves.

"Well, it appears that in light of this new evidence, I will have to dismiss the charges against Mr. Sewell. You are free to leave, sir."

"What?" the prosecutor shouted and pushed back from the table. I picked up a stack of papers on my desk and dropped them in front of him. "I made a copy for you as well."

His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. I held back my smile and turned to my client.

"Thank you, Ms. Adams," he said, shaking my hand and slapping me on the shoulder.

"You're welcome, Mr. Sewell. I'm glad I could be of service."

He smiled. "I was a bit skeptical at first, but I guess you can't judge a book by its cover."

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, he left.

I stood there, wondering what he'd meant by that. I looked down at my clothes. While they were a little wrinkled, and my knee a little scuffed, I didn't think I looked any different than any other lawyer. Perhaps he was prejudiced against my gender. Maybe that was what the prosecution had meant earlier. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be the first time.

I shrugged and let the comment slide. My work spoke for itself. I'd won and couldn't wait to tell the partners.

My euphoria didn't last long as I spotted a red-faced and rigid-looking Jake in front of me. His fists were balled at his sides, and his nostrils flared as he waited for me at the exit door.

"I know you're angry," I said, putting up my hands.

"I'm not angry," he said in a low growl, sounding very angry. "I'm pissed off."

"I understand. But I'd asked you nicely, and you didn't listen. So, I had to take matters into my own hands."

I crossed my arms and waited at the doors, standing only a foot away from him.

"If you are not going to cooperate, then I will have to treat you as a hostile client."

I'd heard of a hostile witness before, but never a hostile client. I gulped involuntarily. His jaw spasmed, threatening to shatter his back molars.

"What does that mean?" I asked, blinking and waiting for his response.

He didn't answer. Just stared at me, breathing in panting breaths. It felt as though I stood in front of a lion barely held back by a steel cage.

His gaze strayed upwards, and he raised his arm.

Plucking something from my hair, he held a dry leaf in his hand, which he proceeded to crunch and pulverize into the palm of his hand. Then he opened his fist and let the brown pieces scatter to the ground.

I gulped again. I couldn't help it.

He turned and walked away.

"What does that mean?" I squeaked, but he ignored me, walking back to his car.