Chapter 32
32
SHE’S THE DONNA TO MY HARVEY BUT MORE QUIRKY
“ G ood morning Mr. Anderson.”
I’m greeted by Tiffany, my long-time assistant. She’s odd and oftentimes makes references to sci-fi novels that I pretend I don’t understand to continue on with my day, but she’s efficient and organized. And best of all, she’s loyal to me. When I met Tiffany at a book cafe five years ago, she was barely out of college and I was barely considered a lawyer.
We formed an unlikely friendship after I got her a job in the mailroom at Anderson & Anderson when she expressed her lack of job opportunities over a cup of coffee. Two years later when I became a Senior Partner, she was my first pick to be my assistant and it’s been the most stable relationship I’ve experienced since my grandparents died.
There has never been anything romantic between me and Tiffany, but the bond is unbreakable. She’s the Donna to my Harvey but more quirky. There isn’t a single thing she doesn’t know about my life or the firm, and her ability to find out just about anything is her most useful asset to me.
“I hate when you call me that.” I answer w ithout humor. Hearing Mr. Anderson went one of two ways: I either missed my grandfather’s presence or I dreaded my father’s.
“I have to call you that, apparently the other Mr. Anderson,” she nudges her head towards the direction of my father’s office, “thinks it gives off non-professionalism vibes.” She airquotes non-professionalism which makes me assume she’s paraphrasing what he said because that isn’t a term he normally would use and he’s also known to be long winded when trying to make a point.
“Well he’s not here so stop calling me that.”
“Fine, have it your way but if I get canned because of you I’ll make sure to only filter out the worst applications as my backfill as payback.” Tiffany warns.
She follows me into my office as I round the desk to sit down. Lying a stack of papers in front of me, “there’s a Senior Partner meeting in twenty minutes. Apparently the bossman has his sights on a new client but hasn’t mentioned which one.” Tiffany sits down in the chair across from me, leaning back comfortably, looking more like a casual guest than a professional assistant. “This is big. I can tell. He’s so damn hush hush about it but the word is,” leaning in to whisper another tidbit of information she’s gathered through the assistant grapevine, “whoever lands this whale of a client for him is up for name partner.”
I roll my eyes at the gossip. “You know I don’t give a shit about becoming a name partner. I want to get the hell out of here with my reputation intact and a client list that’ll follow regardless of a non-compete.” I say without shuffling through the recently delivered paperwork.
She gives a huff, “you deserve to be named partner at your grandfather’s firm. You know he would’ve wanted you to have his place here more than anyone else.”
“Don’t.” I say curtly.
I know Tiffany isn’t wrong but there isn’t a damn thing that can be changed now. My place used to be here at the helm of what belonged to my grandfather but that dream has long since died since my father took over. It no longer holds the familial tie it once did. To be reminded of how far I’ve fallen from the grace of my grandfather’s memory cuts deeper than just letting it go.
However, the look on Tiffany’s face, like I’d just kicked her puppy, makes me feel like worse shit. I dragged a hand across my face, exhausted. “Tiff, you know we just don’t go there. There isn’t a point.”
She plasters a smile on her face for my sake. “One day Riley. One day, you’ll see. This will all have been worth it.”
My eyebrow rises. “What will be?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ve always had this feeling that one day you will find your place here.” Slapping her hands on her knees and standing from her seat. “Twenty minutes, don’t be late or I get blamed for not keeping you on schedule.” Her strawberry blond hair bounces as she makes her way back to her desk outside of my office leaving me more annoyed than when I first arrived.
There isn’t much that bothers me about Tiffany, but her cryptic and oftentimes astrological optimism leaves me confused and annoys me to no end. She’ll sprout out some bullshit message and then leave without much explanation. Leaving me to ponder what the hell she actually meant. Which might actually be her strategy and I’m still falling for it years later.
The twenty minutes tick by too fast, which it often does when I know I have to face my father and a room full of kiss asses and now the smug face of my brother. I take my time getting to the conference room closest to my father’s office, god forbid he’s forced to walk to the conference room that’s actually larg e enough to sit all thirty five of us down the hall.
By the time I arrive, everyone is already seated with my father at the head of the table. “Ah, Riley. Thank you for blessing us with your presence… albeit late.”
It’s two minutes until the start time of the meeting and as much as I want to call him out on that fact, I know that if I say anything and if he has another smart rebuttal to that, I might not be able to control the fist that goes flying towards his bulbous nose.
I politely dip my head in acknowledgement and take the seat farthest from him that’s always been my designated seat. His newest assistant, a mousy brunette that I haven’t cared to learn the name of, closes the door behind me.
“Let’s get down to business shall we?” Like the bunch of worker ants everyone is, all in unison straightens up a little stiffer, giving their undivided attention to the arrogant man at the head of the table. I stay leaning back in my chair, elbow resting on the arm and hand rubbing my jaw in annoyed boredom.
I’ll show up when I’m supposed to show up but I’ll be damned if I give him an ounce more of obedience.
He eyes me with disdain that mirrors my own before continuing. “As you all know, clients are what keeps this firm afloat.” No shit . “Big clients are what keeps this firm competitive.” Another useless statement. “I have on great authority that there is an opportunity to sign the biggest client this firm has ever had. Anderson & Anderson has attempted and failed over the years to sign this client, they have stayed loyal to inside counsel but with new leadership underway,” my ears perk up. There couldn’t be any way he had already heard of Thatcher’s change in leadership. It hasn’t even been made public yet. “I believe that we can convince them tha t their company is just too big to continue using their preferred small firm for counsel and can benefit from a larger firm such as ours to oversee their day to day business and future mergers and acquisitions.
I have been told that Thatcher Inc., the leading tech giant of our time, is undergoing new leadership. Daniel Thatcher has decided to step down as C.E.O. and his daughter ,” the judgment of such a position for a woman is discernible in his inflection of the word daughter, “will now be the head of Thatcher Inc. She is young. She will have less reservations of allowing a firm like ours to take on the heavy lifting of any legal dealings. The loyalty to their mom and pop shop counsel hasn’t been formed. From what I know, she is young and most likely naive to the ins and outs of business. A princess in the place of a king. We can sway her. My proposition for anyone in this room. Get me Thatcher Inc.’s signature and the next name that goes up on that wall,” he points to the marble expanse near the elevators where the only named partners have ever been my grandparents and by the extension of their deaths, my fathers, “is the person who delivers it to me.”
The entire room stands up cheering, like Jordan Belfort just gave the speech of his life to a room full of wanna be traders, rather than a room full of should be dignified Ivy League educated lawmen. Meanwhile, I’m fuming. The words young, princess, and naive coming out of his mouth is enough for me to want to get up and leave without another word but there is no fucking way I will let anyone take advantage of Amelia.
I slam my hands on the desk causing every head to turn my way. “She’s mine.”
My father’s booming laugh breaks the pin drop silence that falls over the room. “Atta boy, son.” My father’s under the impress ion I’m taking him up on his challenge, but little does he know that is the furthest thing from my mind. Amelia will decide what is best for Thatcher Inc. on her terms without the persuasion of me or this fucking firm. I’ll make sure of it.
I have to get the hell out of here. Everyone in this room reeks of desperation and greed which is ironic because you’d expect it from a room full of corporate lawyers but I despise it. This place used to stand for more. It used to be better. I push my chair back and head for the exit. I have one hand on the metal handle before the sound of my father’s voice stops me in my tracks.
“I hope to have good news by the engagement party this Friday, son.” I eye him wearily. “You are planning on attending aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I say through gritted teeth.
Get me the hell out of here.
Just like Tiffany always is with prompt timing, she opens the door with what I’m assuming is a fake emergency. “Mr. Anderson, there’s a call for you from a client waiting on line three in your office.” I give her a nod of unspoken thanks before following her back to my office.
“Are you really going to that stupid engagement party?” Tiffany asks as she pours me a stiff drink. I check the watch on my wrist. Barely ten am and yet I don’t hate the idea of brown liquor dulling the events of the morning, nor do I even question how she heard about the engagement party just now. The woman has ears everywhere.
“I don’t think I have much of a choice.” I grab the drink from her offering hand, down the amber liquid in one gulp, and place the empty glass back on the glass bar cart near the door before I plop down on the black leather couch adjacent to my desk.
Tiffany knocks her knees into mine. “Sit up, you look like a hoodlum with your legs open and your butt falling off the cushions.”
“Hoodlum?” I ask judgingly. Tiffany always uses the oddest of terms for her age but it just adds to the quirky personality that I’ve grown used to since I met her. Even though I’m her boss, I somehow find myself sitting up a little straighter at her lecture.
She grabs the client chair from my desk and pulls it across from me before sitting down. “Why are you going Riley?”
I push against the crease between my brow with the pad of my thumb. “Not now Tiffany.”
“You owe them nothing. That piece of shit brother of yours doesn’t deserve you showing one iota of support for the backstabbing crap he pulled.” I snort at her frankness.
“Ballsy to say that so loud when he could walk by any minute. I knew I liked you.”
“Because I have balls? Hmm, does your girlfriend know you prefer them?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” I fire back.
Tiffany doubles over with mirth. “Seriously Riley? That is what you decided to argue about out of the two things I accused you of?” I roll my eyes at her. “ Anyway ,” she waves her hand in the air in annoyance, “you can deny having a girlfriend all you want but you’d do well to remember that there isn’t a corner of your life that’s a secret to me. Not even the corner where you’re hiding Ms. Amelia Thatcher, heiress of Thatcher Inc, new C.E.O. of said company.” I look up to see a smug grin on her alabaster skin.
“How did you,” I stop myself before finishing, “you know what. I don’t want to know how you know. I’m actually terrified to find ou t how you know half the things you do.”
“Will you bring her? Wouldn’t that be something?” She stares off as if in a daydream. “The most coveted client to be, so happens to be the same girl you are dating.”
“I’m not bringing her.” I say flatly, leaving no room for argument.
And because Tiffany is who she is, she argues anyway. “What? Why not?”
“Amelia is,” I hesitate to find my words, “she’s my friend. I can’t bring her to that fucking ruse of a party and throw her to the wolves. She’s too nice.”
“She’s. Too. Nice? What are you? A boy scout? What kind of explanation is that?”
I grumble and bury my face in my hands in frustration. “I don’t know how else to explain her. When I first met her she was so good. Everything about her screamed people pleaser kind of good. I met her while she was on a blind date that her friend set up for her. She didn’t even want to be there but she couldn’t say no to her friend. Then the next time I ran into her, it was because some fucking loser got the promotion she worked her ass off for even though she knew she was the damned heiress to the entire kingdom that owned that man’s job. She could’ve snapped her fingers and had any job she wanted but she chose not to because it wasn’t the right thing to do.
Now she’s taking on the role of C.E.O. because her father is sick, even though all she wanted was to prove she could make it on her own somewhere else but choosing to go back to fill this role because it’s what is expected and required of her regardless of rumors of nepotism.”
“I’m missing the point.” Tiffany says confused.
“If I ask her to come to this thing on Frida y, she will say yes because she would do it for me.”
“I’m still missing the point.”
“Jesus Christ Tiffany.” I snap.
“What?” She exclaims frustratingly at her own confusion. “Honestly, you’re making zero sense here. You don’t want her to come to this party to be your date because she’s too nice of a person? Are you listening to yourself?”
I stand up to walk towards the window, hoping a view of the skyline and not looking at Tiffany might help me form a coherent sentence. “I can’t have her near those fucking assholes. She will show up, she will be who she is, which is nice albeit a bit naive to the scum of the earth, and she will fall for the false bullshit my father will spill her way and she will be made to believe that signing with this law firm is what she needs to do for me. I can’t have that.”
“You don’t want her to sign with Anderson & Anderson? Riley, do you know what that would do for your career if you landed Thatcher Inc. as a client?” She gets up to stand near me at the window.
“No.”
“No?”
“I want her to figure out how to do this job her way. To know that she is capable of making the choices that she thinks is best for Thatcher Inc. Without the thought of what would help my career or what sleazy reason my father might have to sway her into making a choice, yet again, for someone else.”
Tiffany’s hands shoot up to cover her mouth dramatically. “Oh. My. God.”
Arms crossed at my chest, I pivot to turn towards her. “What?”
“You’re in love with her.” Tiffany’s h ands are still covering her mouth as if to hold in a squeal of excitement.
“You’re delusional.” I turn away from her to sit at my desk.
“No, my dear boss. You are the one that seems to be delusional. You are so in love with her that you can’t even see it for yourself.” I open my mouth to argue with her but she cuts me off with a raised finger to begin counting. “One, you care about her more than you ever cared about that two timing skank you wasted four years with. Two, you want to protect her from your father like some modern day knight and shining armor. Three, you want what’s best for her despite the fact that it directly contradicts what would be best for you . And finally four, you are so damn smitten by her you’re too blind to see it for yourself.”
“Are you done?” I ask with a nonchalant tone.
Tiffany exhales a deflated sigh. “I’ll just say this one thing and then I’m done.” I sit still waiting for her to finish. “I think if you’re trying to let her decide what’s best for her company, she needs to know her options and you representing Thatcher Inc. is one of them. Otherwise, you’re saying you don’t trust her to weigh out the choices she’s given and make the right call. Which just means, you’re making her choices for her. At the very least, don’t try to hide her away from the people you’re ashamed of because you’re scared they’re going to take advantage of her naivety.
The woman is the damn C.E.O. of a multi-billion dollar international tech company. I don’t believe anyone that’s smart enough to grow a company that successfully can also be dumb enough to just hand it over to someone incapable just because they’re their daughter. Daniel Thatcher knew Amelia could do this job and do it well. I suggest you have that same faith in her as well.”
I watch her dumbfounded as she walks out of my office and sits at the cubicle outside my door. All I can do is stare at the back of her head as if doing so will magically make the mental bitch slap she just gave me go away. But no, I’m stuck here mulling over her damn words because as annoying as it was being lectured by my own assistant, I also know she’s right.
It was exactly what I told Amelia when she thought she couldn’t hack it as C.E.O. The visceral urge to protect her needs to take a backseat this time if it means doing what’s best for her. I just have to get myself to do it.