Love In Hiding (Looking For Love #10)

Prologue

“Fuck,” Spencer said under his breath as a text from the managing partner he reported to lit up his screen. My office. Ten minutes.

No warning. No context. And with the amount of whispering going on this morning, it meant one of two things.

He was getting promoted.

Or he was getting canned.

His stomach flipped more than a gymnast at the Olympics. He sat back in his chair, trying to control the stampede of thoughts slamming around his skull.

Eleven years at this firm. Straight out of college. He worked up to senior managing attorney, clawed his way through the grind, the long hours, the massive headaches, the biting of his tongue, and he finally had a partnership in sight.

Or so he’d thought.

Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe the constant pressure and the sleep deprivation of the past two years were finally getting to him. Maybe the mountain of work that somehow always landed on his desk had pushed him into paranoia.

But the unease slithered up his spine anyway because last minute meetings were never a good thing.

He exhaled sharply, rolled his shoulders, and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling as if it’d make it all go away if he blinked enough.

You’re not getting fired. You didn’t screw up. You never screw up. If anything, your biggest flaw is following the damn rules too closely.

He checked his watch, shoved himself out of the chair, and went to get a drink of water to buy his nerves a quick reprieve.

The cold water stuck in his throat on the way down. He forced it past the tightness, grabbed his laptop and phone, then headed down the hall to Ryker’s office.

Ryker Smithson. Not his favorite human. Hell, not even top fifty. But not everyone was meant to be your cup of tea.

He knocked on the open doorframe. “You wanted to see me?”

“Come in, Spencer,” Ryker boomed, his chest puffing like he was delivering a sermon. Five years older, promoted to partner at thirty-eight two years ago, and never let anyone forget he believed he’d deserved it earlier than most.

He started toward the chair in front of the desk, but Ryker motioned him to the side seating where the plush, deep leather chairs were meant for good conversations. Not terminations.

Okay. Probably not getting canned and told himself it was ridiculous that he even let that cross his brain.

Ryker always fired people in their own offices with security lingering outside like vultures.

His body sank into the cushion, a wave of tension sliding off his shoulders. Or maybe that was just the exhaustion of working himself into the ground for Ryker’s ego over the past year.

He waited. He knew it irritated Ryker how he could out-wait, out-stare, and outwit pretty much anyone in the office. Especially Ryker, whose ego was a cactus in human form.

Ryker finally laughed. “I love that about you. We’d be here all day if I didn’t speak first.”

He shrugged. “You called me in. I figured you had a reason.”

“I do,” Ryker said, leaning back like he was delivering a blessing. “A great one. Burns my ass that it’s happening to you younger than it did me, but I’m the one who recommended it.”

His pulse kicked up, his palms slicking. He clamped down on the urge to react. To not celebrate until he knew what the hell was going on.

“Recommended what?”

“Your partnership.”

For a second the air thinned. Then a different dread crept in.

“I wasn’t aware there were any current openings,” he said slowly. “Unless someone’s leaving or we’re expanding?”

“No one’s leaving,” Ryker said. “We’ve been expanding for years. You know that better than anyone. You’ve been doing most of the work on the biggest expansion.”

And there it was, filling his chest with the formidable fear he wanted no one to know he internalized. He knew exactly where this was going, and he hated it.

“I’ve been working mostly with the California team,” he said.

“That’s right,” Ryker replied. “They love you. We need a partner out there.”

“I’m licensed here,” he said.

“You’ve got two weeks to apply for the California Bar in July. The short version with your experience. No one doubts you’ll ace it. We’ll give you time off to prepare if needed.”

He would need it. But he sure as hell wasn’t considering it.

No fucking way.

New York was his home. Easy flights to see his best friend, Coy, and his sister, Angel, on Amore Island. His nephew. His parents in Philadelphia. If he was in California, who knew when he’d see them again?

“And if I’m not interested in relocating?” he asked.

“You’d be crazy to turn this down,” Ryker snapped as if Spencer had lost all his marbles. Ryker stood, strode to his desk and grabbed a paper, then handed it over. “Here’s your offer. Of course you can negotiate. I did.”

He skimmed it. Generous for sure. More than he had expected.

But they were basically shoving him across the damn country.

“Let’s say I am crazy,” he said evenly. “I’d still need time to think. It’s a big change.”

Ryker narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be the guy who turns down a partnership, because you don’t know when, or if, you’ll get another shot.”

Inside, he burned. Outside, he smiled like a professional. “I’ll get back to you. Anything else?”

Ryker shook his head after letting out a snort. “No. I can never get a read on you.”

“That’s what makes me an excellent attorney,” he said, forcing a grin.

He walked back to his office with his fingers gripping the offer tight enough to cramp his knuckles. He considered tossing it straight into the trash but didn’t need the entire floor seeing it.

In his mind?

He’d just been fired.

Just not in the way he expected.