My jaw flexed. “Of course. I won’t skim. I’ll penetrate as deep as possible.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Juliette’s eyes widen. She quickly looked away. If Dickson noticed, he didn’t show it. He looked between the three of us and nodded. “Good. Keep me updated.”
As soon as the door closed and he was out in the hallway, Juliette’s eyes bulged. “Are you nuts?”
I smirked. “Just doing what the boss wants.”
“You are such an idiot. Forget the dumb, deep-penetration remark. Luckily that seemed to fly right over his head. But he asked you if you settled the case—which you did—and yet you said you were working on it because you want to be the one to tell Autumn.”
“So?” I shrugged. “Why shouldn’t I get to tell my client the good news?”
“Autumn is not your client. The kid is. Besides, he asked you to keep him apprised of the status of the case. Don’t you think he’ll be annoyed when he finds out from the woman he’s seeing that you settled it?”
She had a point, but I wasn’t about to let that bozo take credit for the strings I’d had to pull. I shook my head. “Stop worrying so much. It’ll work out.”
“You know what you need?”
I nodded. “I do. In fact, I’m the only person who knows what I need.”
Juliette ignored me. “You need a distraction.”
Being here in the office had felt like a distraction lately. “I’m fine.”
“I’m going to set you up with my friend. She’s a yoga instructor—bends like a pretzel and gorgeous.”
“I’m good, but thanks.”
Trent had been quiet, but he looked at me and shook his head. “Juliette’s right. It’s a little over a month until the partner vote. Dickson’s riding you about how that case is going for a reason. He’s obviously really into Autumn. I’m not saying you back off forever. But maybe put what you want on the back burner for a while. A month isn’t that long to wait.”
It had been less than a week since I saw Autumn, and it was already too long. I was sure my friends were overreacting. But it wouldn’t take long to realize maybe their perspective had some merit…
CHAPTER 15
* * *
Autumn
I did not feel like going to a party.
My insides churned as we drove out to the Hamptons for the barbecue. I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong—like I was guilty, even though I hadn’t committed a crime. Well, no physical crime anyway. Now, emotional strangulation? That was an entirely different story.
Blake glanced over to where I sat staring out the window. “You feeling okay today?”
“Yeah. I just have a lot on my mind with work.”
He nodded. “Is Stone giving you trouble again?”
I frowned. “Storm. And no, he’s actually been a little better lately.”
“Blake Jr., my eight year old, goes through phases where he acts out, too. Usually it’s just because he wants a little extra attention.”
Ummm…I think Storm might be more upset that his mother is an addict who ditched him, and he’s stuck living in a group home filled with troubled kids no one wants. “Most of my kids act out because they’re angry, rather than wanting attention. They don’t know how to handle their emotions, and they’ve been taught on the street that any display of feelings is a weakness.”
Blake smiled. “Listen to you—you sound like Dr. Wilde already.”
I attempted a smile and went back to staring out the window.
Rupert Kravitz’s home was in the tiny village of Sagaponack, which was part of the Hamptons. If Blake hadn’t told me it was the most expensive zip code on the East Coast, I might’ve actually liked the quaint little town as we drove through. But as soon as he started to rattle off the names of famous people who lived here and how many Goldman Sachs brokers owned houses on the water, I got the same bad taste in my mouth as I did going home to good ol’ Greenwich and my father’s uppity cronies.
To be honest, I regretted coming today.
Inside the Kravitz compound, I felt like I’d walked into a retirement party. Men with white hair, khaki pants, and navy blazers stood around drinking out of crystal tumblers, while their frozen-faced wives wore big hats to keep their Botox shielded from sun damage. I smiled as Blake made introductions, putting on the same plastic smile I’d used at my father’s parties for years. Outside, there were some younger guys, but Blake definitely seemed to be one of the youngest, if not the youngest. I also noticed I’d met a lot of partners named Rupert, Michael, and Larry, and while there was at least some diversity among the men, there wasn’t a single Susan, Michelle, or Christine.
“Does your firm not like women partners?” I asked discreetly on our way over to an outdoor bar set up by the pool.