Chapter 4 – Amanda
The depositions for the Anderson account took every ounce of my brain power. With only a couple of hours of restless sleep and an uneventful night, I did what I did best and pushed every other thought to the recesses of my mind so I could direct my whole focus to the work set before me.
When my phone rang, reality came surging back. I looked at the clock on the wall and groaned. I hadn’t paused for lunch, and now it was late afternoon. At this rate, there was no time to head down to the police department.
I answered the call without a second thought.
“Amanda! Congratulations,” Emery gushed.
I frowned, even though the assistant to my father’s secretary couldn’t see it. Glenda worked directly with Dad, and she outsourced matters of non-importance to the newest bubble head in their office. Currently, that was Emery.
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
“You’re engaged, silly,” the assistant beamed. “I’m calling to check in and see if you spoke to the wedding planner I emailed you about this morning.”
The phone nearly slid from my fingers. I was suddenly cold, too numb to hold the device. Dad knew.
Of course he did.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, making my empty stomach churn.
“Amanda? Hello?” the bubbly voice pinged in my ear.
I pulled the device away and squeezed my dry eyes closed. Breathe. I just had to breathe. Holding the phone’s speaker in front of my mouth, I managed to say, “Sorry, I’ve been busy today. I haven’t had a chance to check my personal email.”
“I sent it to your work email as well,” Emery said helpfully. Her chipper tone carried, even without the damn thing pressed to my ear. “It’s of the utmost importance to Mr. Loring, so I figured it would be best to cover both bases.”
I groaned, wishing like hell she hadn’t done that. Our devices at work were monitored. While I wasn’t under the same scrutiny as an associate, I still played it safe and kept my work email strictly curated, separated from personal matters.
“Thanks,” I croaked.
“You need to meet with the planner this weekend,” Emery chirped away. “I can call and set up a time if you’re busy. And I know how hard you work, just like your dad. But it’s really important you start working on this matter right away! Mr. Loring wants a date and—”
“Can I talk to him?” I snapped.
My sudden spike of temper made the ditz on the other end of the line gasp softly. She’d lasted longer than most as an assistant, which was surprising given the battle-axe nature of my father’s right-hand woman. But that didn’t mean the assistant deserved our family drama.
“Mr. Loring is in a meeting,” she said quietly, bubbles subdued.
“Have him call me,” I insisted and ended the conversation.
Pushing to my feet, the rush of blood to my brain made the world spin. I gripped the side of my desk, breathing until the dizziness passed. I just needed a quick espresso, maybe some water, and then I would get right back to work.
When Jared St. Just, the senior partner in charge of mergers and acquisitions at Kirk & Wallace, took notice of me, I made damn sure to rise to the occasion.
St. Just was one of the most powerful attorneys in Manhattan, and I’d been lucky to be his associate.
I still worked for him often as a junior partner, dropping everything to prioritize his cases, which was why I hadn’t eaten lunch or gone to report the fact that I had a stalker when the depositions turned into a logistical nightmare.
Popping into the partner’s lounge, I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. The cap twisted with a vicious pop, and I glugged the water, feeling a tension headache coming on because, on top of not eating, I hadn’t drunk enough aqua today.
My phone rang.
Looking down, I saw the number and shivered.
“Hi, Daddy, how’s LA?” I breathed, pushing a tiny mug under the espresso spout and pressing the button on the machine to brew.
“Hot, and the locals are all tan,” he grumped.
Not the type of chitchat I expected from my sire.
“What did you need, Amanda? Glenda said it was urgent,” Archibald Loring added, switching back into that terse business-speak that was basically his own brand.
I was surprised the old hag hadn’t called me herself to divert the matter. It must be really important if Dad deigned to call me. I bit my lip. There was no good way to say it, so I kept the observation loose.
“You know about Steven and me?”
Annoyance filled the cellular void. “Yes.”
“And Emery sent a wedding planner? Isn’t it a little soon? He only proposed last night,” I hedged.
A sharp sigh scraped against my ear. “Steven and I have been working through the terms of his inheritance. You need to seal this as quickly as possible, Amanda. I don’t understand why you’re wasting your time calling me. You know what’s at stake.”
Apparently not as well as you. I fought down the rise of emotions. It should come as no surprise that my father had a hand in this matter already.
But it stung.
Most dads would be congratulating me, enjoying the start of a new chapter to the family saga, or lamenting how old their little girl was. All grown up and getting married.
Not mine. He saw black and white. Contracts and achievements. There was no room for fluff.
But it still would have been nice if he had given a human reaction to the news.
This was exactly why my sister Nicole had hidden her own milestones from him. Well, that and the fact that he would never have approved of her choices.
“Amanda, is there anything else?” my father clipped out. “Because if not, I have a meeting to get back to.”
“No, sorry,” I coughed. “Just was checking in about the situation.”
“There was no need,” he said with a bite. “You had all the pertinent information sent to you if that nitwit did her job properly.”
“Emery did!” I rushed to assure him. “I’ll handle it.”
The call ended. No goodbye, no affection.
Why? Why! I drove the edge of my phone against my forehead. Why did I do this to myself? I was always chasing the next rung on the ladder, hoping he’d notice. Wondering when it would be enough for his approval.
And here I was, newly engaged, and he was only interested in the terms and fine print of the matter.
Which, come to think of it, was odd, because Steven hadn’t mentioned the inheritance at all.
I rubbed my aching skull, grabbed my espresso, and was about to slug the piping hot liquid back when I turned and nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Taking personal calls on company time?” Carter Lewis crossed his arms over his chest.
Of all the employees at Kirk & Wallace to catch me in the break room on the phone, it had to be him. I gave the senior partner a terse smile, splashed some water into my mug, drank my espresso, and gave myself a few precious moments to gather my thoughts.
This man had been in charge of the bullpen when we were all associates, vying with one another for a spot to work with a senior partner. He was ruthless. Mean. And he looked like a water buffalo with a thick body, military buzz cut, and no neck.
“Mr. Lewis, good to see you,” I said with a firm smile. “That was my father, calling to check in with some important arrangements.”
I hated playing the nepotism card, but it was the only one able to save me.
Those beady eyes widened a fraction. “I see. How is Mr. Loring?”
“Busy,” I responded, because there was no other appropriate answer. “He’s in LA for the next two months working on a big merger.”
“I know. I hear the gossip about Loring, Smith, & Colt,” Lewis snapped.
I gave him a clipped nod. “I have to get back to the depositions for Mr. St. Just.”
“Don’t forget to prep for the Benson trial this weekend,” he added, a glint in his eye. “Or did you forget that you’ll be busy next week working with Samantha and me on that case to fulfill your trial hours for the quarter?”
Just because I preferred to work with one senior partner didn’t mean I was exempt from abiding by company policy.
This law firm was top-tier, and they did everything in their power to teach and mold younger lawyers into ruthless machines—because only a killer could stand a chance of lasting on their employee roster.
I was grateful for the position here, and normally, I loved the opportunities to improve myself. Right now? The thought of the trial next week sent a wave of defeat through my already drained body.
“I’ll see you Monday morning,” I assured Lewis.
The buffalo gave me a terse nod.
I dropped my empty mug in the sink and bolted, forgetting to grab my water. But it wasn’t worth the risk of running into him again to grab another.