Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,38

My advice to you is to stay until Mom fires you so we can take them down. I love my mother, but…the firm isn’t what it used to be. We know how they win some of the cases.”

By buying the judges, I don’t say out loud.

“You think she’s going to fire me?” I ask, scared.

“Honey, Ed is going to do something stupid and lose the case. You’re the one leading it, so he’ll blame you. I told you not to accept it. He’s done that before,” he announces, and I feel the entire weight of the world settling on my shoulders.

This phone call has the opposite effect of what I expected. What happened to work hard and fuck the opposition? Climb to the top… What am I supposed to do with his new advice?

“I can’t lose my job.”

“You can come and work for me,” he suggests.

“In the middle of nowhere Oregon? I thought we were working on getting you out of there,” I press, not understanding what is happening with him.

“It’s not as bad as I thought. Listen, I’m working on a deal, and I need your advice. I’ll email everything to your personal address. Bill me for that okay? Remind Mother that you’re good, but you’re better suited for corporate, estate law, and intellectual property. That’s what you were doing for me.”

“Like she’s going to listen. Send that over. I’ll go through it tonight and send you an invoice on Friday,” I agree. Usually, I’d say no, I’ll do it for free. However, if I’m going to be without a job soon, I might as well start gathering some seeds for the winter like a smart ant.

My conversation with Pierce doesn’t make me feel any better. He knows his mother better than the rest of us. She’s planning on firing me, and if she does, what am I supposed to do?

I don’t have time to think because nausea hits me hard and I end up puking in my trash can—again. Talk about having a shitty Monday. This is probably the worst I’ve had in a long time.

Fifteen

Nyx

It’s said that if an unfortunate event has already occurred twice, it will most likely happen a third time.

On Monday I lost a case and a client fired me. I’m not ready for the other shoe to drop, but I followed Pierce’s advice. I spent all night preparing for the worst. Those two events were enough ammunition to put me on probation. On Tuesday, things don’t get any better. I’m interviewing with a potential client. This IT company is growing, and they don’t have a legal department. They are contemplating the possibilities of hiring a law firm or hiring lawyers to work just for their company. It’s important for Bryant, LLP to land the account.

Since Pierce left, most of his corporate clients have left the firm too. He’s not working with them, but he referred them to a different legal firm. Now that I’m looking at everything closely, I can see how he’s screwing his family from afar. I have to sit down and talk to him to see what happened between them.

All morning I’ve been sick, and before I step into the conference room, I explain to Sarah that I’m not feeling well.

She doesn’t care, and like the previous day I end up vomiting and dry heaving for five minutes in a row. The clients excuse themselves. When I have my assistant call them to reschedule, they respond saying they have decided to go in a different direction.

Sarah blames it on me.

To no one’s surprise but Sarah’s, Edward Bryant fucks up the case even before we have to go to trial. I’m on the phone with the client when Sarah barges into my office. Security is right behind her.

“Out!” She yells, making me jump.

“I’m on the line trying to salvage what your nephew did,” I protest. “Pierce and I think that—”

“Wait, you discussed this case with someone outside our firm.”

“Pierce is your son,” I remind her.

“He could be the pope and you are still not allowed to discuss this case with him. He doesn’t work for Bryant, LLP. This is a breach of the client confidentiality agreement. I’ll be filing against your license.”

I feel as if a cluster of spark plugs ignites in my abdomen. Tension grows in my face and my limbs. My breathing becomes shallow, and I have to remind myself that it’s going to be okay. She can’t do anything. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours documenting everything that’s