Rainbows Ever After (Rainbows 1.50)

“How else am I going to get my name on the wall?” she asked, setting the teddy bear back down.

In my most dead-serious tone, I reminded her, “I’m quite sure the name Black is up there.”

“Then it either needs to be raised to the second power, or Black-Knox-Black will have to do,” she shot back, just as seriously. And when I looked up at her, telling her not to push it here, on her first day, she just glared at me.

“You have a long, long way to go, Mrs. Black,” Tristan spoke, walking up to my desk. “Before you become a name partner. Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

She picked a pack of hazelnut tea out of the bag. “Do you mind if I take these? My clients are going to be here any moment.”

“Clients?” Raymond, who was one of the oldest associates, AKA, the one who believed his name was going to get up on the wall, asked. “I wasn’t aware you were working, Mrs. Black.”

Tristan glanced at me. I stared at her. She smirked at all of us.

“Bullshit,” I called her out.

“Betty.” She turned to my secretary. “I’m surprised Mr. Black doesn’t have the file already.”

“I put it on his desk, and added it to his schedule along with his coffee mug.” She nodded and walked toward the doors as everyone just stared.

Glancing under my palm, at said file, then at the coffee mug on the table, I pulled off the yellow sticky note. Cracking my jaw, I turned the note for Tristan to read. He

glanced at it, and then back at her.

“The New England Patriots are your clients?!”

She frowned. “No!”

“Mrs. Black—”

“The wives of each of the New England Patriots are my clients, and we’re going to sue the NFL.” The frown on her face morphed into the most sinister grin as she held up the tea for me to see again. “Yes or no to the tea?”

Tristan looked to me, and I shook my head. The case I gave her was on the assault and battery of Mitchell Davey, running back for the New England Patriots. It was almost impossible to get the spouses of athletes to sue … and yet somehow…

“Mrs. Black,” Betty came over the intercom.

“Yes, Betty?” She called out, reaching for a tin of baskets to take with her as well.

“They’re here.”

Her eyes widened as she turned to me. “I’ll be taking these; I’ve already set up a live stream in the conference room, as they prefer to have no men in the meeting. Welcome back, Boss.”

She nodded, and headed out. The first person to speak was Tristan.

“So this is what it is like to have a good associate. It’s been so long.” Tristan sighed. “Meanwhile, this lot is just standing around, giving out teddy bears.”

“Which dead weight are we letting go of first?” I asked, sitting back in my chair. In a flash, they were gone. It happened so quickly, the door didn’t even have time to fully close. But when it did, Tristan spun to face me.

“You got married yesterday!” he snapped. “I know … I was there! And you didn’t think to let me know—”

“I didn’t even know!” I snapped back, rubbing the side of my head as I lifted the case file. “She was just supposed to get Mrs. Davey to sue and now we’re…”

I read the suit she planned to file, my mouth dropping open.

“What?” He waited impatiently

“Now we’re the sons of bitches suing the NFL for Gross Negligence and Willful Misconduct toward the spouses of the players.”

“On what grounds?!”