He crossed the room to his desk, tossing the file on top and the empty coffee cup in the garbage. He cleared his throat, his voice warmer when he spoke.
“Watch out for the third step from the bottom. The edging has a habit of lifting on the right side. I would hate for you to trip.”
“Noted.” My voice sounded breathless.
He lifted his arm, indicating for me to sit. The movement pulled up his sleeve, and I noticed the heavy watch on his wrist, the glint of silver catching the light.
“Sit, Ms. VanRyan. We have a lot to discuss.”
Thirty minutes later, my head was swimming. In the brief moment it took me to sit down, Mr. Richards’s voice had changed yet again, and he was back to being cool. He listed his expectations in detail, told me about the cases he was handling, informed me the desk I had seen earlier was for me. “You’ll be sharing the space with my assistant, Michael.”
“Okay.”
“He was away when you were interviewed. You can introduce yourself when he arrives. He’ll take you to HR and show you around.”
“All right.”
“I’ll be working you hard, Ms. VanRyan. I have high expectations. The last student I had lasted a month and asked for a different lawyer. Think you can do better?”
I met his eyes. They were intense and serious, with none of the heat from earlier remaining. Maybe I had imagined it. I straightened my shoulders and refused to show him how nervous I felt. “Yes,” I stated firmly.
“What makes you so certain?” he asked, cocking his head and studying me.
I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my lips. “Because, as my mother would say, I am my father’s daughter. I’m known for being tenacious.”
He lifted his eyebrows but remained silent.
“I plan on giving this my all, Mr. Richards. I want to do this. Learn everything I can. I’m not afraid of hard work. I didn’t earn the grades I received by being a slacker. I will push and push until I get the job done.” I paused. “And not to your satisfaction, but to mine. I guarantee you, whatever your standards are, mine are equal if not higher.”
He looked surprised at my words, then nodded as if satisfied. He handed me a stack of files. “Look over these until Michael arrives. There is a kitchen down the hall if you want coffee.”
“Could I bring you a cup?”
He shook his head. “You’re not my errand girl. You don’t need to bring me coffee.”
“I was simply being nice. I don’t plan on waiting on you.”
He chuckled. “Okay then, Ms. VanRyan. A cup would be welcome.”
“Why Ms. VanRyan and Mr. Richards?” I asked before I could stop myself. “You called me Grace when we met.”
“I’m setting boundaries.”
“Does Michael call you Mr. Richards?”
“He has proven himself,” he stated, affirming my guess.
“So, I have to earn it is what you are saying.”
Something dark passed over his face. “Yes.”
“Then I look forward to the challenge.”
I walked out and sat down at the small desk in the corner. It was bare except for a lamp and a cup holding some pens. I set down the files, looking up and meeting the gaze of my new boss. The way the desk was situated, he would see me when his door was open. He would be watching me.
I went to get coffee, needing a moment to collect myself. Jaxson, Mr. Richards, whatever I had to call him, had thrown me off and made me jittery. He was hot and cold—one moment warm and personable, the next a polite stranger, making me feel as if I was of no importance. It was a strange feeling. But I was going to have to get used to it. I wasn’t going anywhere, and I would prove myself to him and anyone else who questioned my aptitude. Grace VanRyan didn’t back away from a challenge. Ever. My father had taught me that lesson all my life.
Even if the blue eyes belonging to the man who issued it made my heart flutter.
I would ignore that part.
When I returned to the office, Michael was at his desk. He was my age, tall, slender, his blond hair slicked back, with a wide smile. He was a good-looking man. He was well dressed, and from the look of his area, neat and organized. His hazel eyes were warm, his handshake firm, and his voice welcoming.
“Grace, I’m Michael. I look forward to working with you.”
I shook his hand, responding to his warmth. “You as well, Michael.” My gaze skittered to the closed door, then back to him. “First names okay out here?”
He grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Oh, he’s doing the Mr. Richards, ‘earn the right to call me Jaxson’ thing?”
I nodded.
He leaned forward. “He’s a bear. A grumpy, growly bear most of the time, but it’s all an act. He’s a decent guy. Just go with the flow.”