Chapter 2
BITCH, BE COOL
I shook my head and put my phone back in my desk drawer, having hit my limit on social media for the day.
Men were a special breed of stupid, especially the rich ones.
It was never enough to have the whole world at their feet, damn near unlimited funds at their disposal, and women willing to do whatever they wanted for them—they always had to demonstrate their power in the most disgusting ways.
I shook my dark thoughts away and left my office to find my assistant, Jocelyn.
She had messaged me a few minutes ago and asked me to meet her in the conference room.
“Congratulations Amaya!” I tried my best to look excited as I walked into the conference room full of my coworkers. My face tightened in displeasure as I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the cake, streamers, and other party decorations littered throughout the space.
“What the fuck is this?” I mumbled under my breath to Jocelyn who stood there looking like she was afraid that I was going to cuss her out—for good reason—because why the fuck would she call me in here for this?
“I just… I was told to get you here. I told them you wouldn’t be into it,” she said with wide eyes as we both conjured up our best fake smiles.
She was right about that, because I did not want to be there.
We mingled for as long as we could, suffering from handshakes and fake ass praises from people who would sooner wish me dead than actually acknowledge the greatness that I had just pulled off.
I was the lead attorney for Rich Ferguson, a first round draft pick for the Clay City Chargers, and had just helped him win a multimillion dollar discrimination lawsuit against his franchise owners.
The case brought eyes to the firm, and I could already see the benefits rolling in as new clients were requesting us left and right.
Did that earn me anything other than this cheap ass cake and juice that they used as a distraction to get away from their desks for an hour?
Of fucking course not. I spent most of my time ducked off in a corner away from the rest of the room.
I loved to be celebrated, but this was some bullshit, and everyone there knew it.
I had just mapped out my escape, ready to lock myself in my office for the rest of the day, when Cowen Briggs rounded the corner and got right in my face.
Usually, I wasn’t one to judge a book by its cover, but Cowen looked much more suited to run a frat house than to practice law.
While everyone else wore suits and business attire, he thought it was cute to show up every day looking like he was on his way to play a round of golf.
The incompetence didn’t stop there, and I was pretty sure he either paid, or cheated, his way through law school because the man was dumber than an empty water bottle.
“Congratulations Lewis,” he said, standing so close to me that the overbearing scent of his aftershave made me dizzy for a moment.
“Thanks.” I kept it short. I had heard about him shit talking me on more than one occasion, and while I tried my best to keep it professional, I could go from one to Set it Off real quick if need be.
This particular firm had not seen unhinged Amaya quite yet, but I was all too happy to introduce them.
“So…” His voice dropped as he stepped even closer to me.
“So?” I mirrored back, brows crinkled in confusion and disgust. I would have moved away, but my back was literally against a wall.
“I was thinking. How about we have a private celebration, maybe over dinner tonight?” he asked with a suggestive brow raise. I looked him dead in his eyes as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other trying to gauge on whether not he was serious.
“No,” I finally answered as I crossed my arms and gave him an icy glare.
“Wha—no? What do you mean no? Why not?” He spoke with the disposition of a man who had rarely heard the word before, but I was all too happy to introduce him and help him get fully acquainted.
“No is a complete sentence, Cowen, but if you need a little more clarity on it, here you go. Even if I did date my coworkers, you still wouldn’t have a chance. Now, I would appreciate it if we could be professional because, you know, we are still at work.”
“I-… Is it because I’m white?” he asked with an expression on his face that I wanted to remove with a jackhammer. “Wow, Lewis… That’s pretty low. I was just trying to do you a favor… figured a girl like you could take whatever she could get.”
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…
It took every muscle in my body working overtime to control myself enough not to smack the nonexistent lips off that motherfucker’s face. I took a step back for his safety and my freedom before I spoke again.
“What I can get? I promise you that ‘what I can get’ would never be a coked out, simple minded loser with a Vienna Sausage for a penis. Even a ‘girl like me’ could do much better,” I spat as I looked him up and down in disgust.
“Loser?!” I had to chuckle. He was madder that I called him a loser than anything else I said, even the diss to his earthworm of a dick. The thought made me laugh out loud because he was every bit of the word.
“You heard me… loser.” I twisted the knife with a smile because who the fuck did he think he was talking to?
“Listen bi-” I cut him off when I reached down, grabbed him by the balls, and squeezed like I thought they would produce fresh orange juice.
Something about my opp calling me a bitch would take me there every time.
His eyes bulged and filled with tears as he wheezed and struggled to speak.
I made sure no one could see us behind the partition we were next to, then gave him a little twist, a thorny smile across my face.
His attempt to catch me alone ended up putting him in the compromised position as I did my damndest to end his bloodline right then and there.
“A-A-Amaya,” he whimpered, making me laugh right in his beet red face. This was the most fun I had at work in a long time.
“You listen bitch. When a woman tells you no, she means no—”
His life and manhood were literally spared when Jocelyn rushed up and grabbed my arm, quickly ushering me away from Cowen, who doubled over like he was seconds away from losing his cheap cake and juice.
“Amaya… please tell me that I didn’t just walk up on you playing with that man’s penis.” She said the moment we were out of earshot of anyone else. Her eyes were wide with apprehension as she looked me upside my head.
“Girl! Hell no! He came at me completely inappropriately, and I was trying to make sure his disrespectful ass couldn’t reproduce ever in life.”
“Oh, thank God! I thought you were back there sampling some pink peen on the clock!” She quickly reached into the tote she was carrying and squirted some sanitizer in my hands.
“Thank you. He should be thanking you too, because I was about to gut his dumb ass like a catfish,” I muttered, rubbing them together vigorously, still annoyed by the whole interaction.
“Listen.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t thank me yet. Mr. Kyle wants to see you in his office.
“Did he say why?” I questioned, knowing that I probably looked like I was about to lay an egg. I was tired as hell, and my mask was slipping more with each minute I spent out of my office.
“He didn’t. He just said he needed you in the office immediately,” she said apologetically.
“Damnit!” I hissed under my breath wondering why I couldn’t seem to catch a break that day.
The two of us walked in complete silence down the busy hallway until we made it to the door of Oliver Kyle, the Kyle in Kyle, Roy & Associates.
He was CEO by way of nepotism and had been in the position since his father Richard Kyle retired ten years ago.
I had been there two of those years and he was okay.
He let me rock for the most part, so I was fine with him until he started trying to throw his weight around.
For some reason, I knew today would be one of those days.
I knocked and was granted a swift “come in”, so Jocelyn and I stepped in.
Once we made it in and closed the door, he held up a finger to silence us because he was on a call.
I inwardly rolled my eyes. We could have waited outside if he was busy, and I couldn’t stand inconsiderate shit like that.
I tapped my foot trying to keep my attitude at bay as Jocelyn and I shot each other annoyed glances until he finally ended his long-winded call.
“Ms. Lewis, thank you for coming in.”
“No problem, anytime,” I choked out through a forced smile.
“I’ll get right to the point. We have a very high-profile client who saw the work you just did and requested you personally for their pending case.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Who is it? What’s the case?”
“Chase Andrews,” he said with a pleased smile like I was supposed to thank him.
“Um..” I cleared my throat. The article I read that morning still fresh on my mind. “The DV case? You know I don’t take those.”
His brow shot up in condemnation as we had an intense stare off.
I made it abundantly clear in my interview, onboarding, and multiple times since then that I did not defend abusers.
Realistically, I knew that as an attorney sometimes my morals may have to take a backseat for the sake of the job, but that was something that I did NOT fold on.
Jocelyn’s hand gently nudging my elbow brought me back to earth and made me realize that my face was doing something that needed to be checked.
Oliver sat back in his seat and adjusted his tie before speaking again.
“Lewis, I know you have your… preferences, but with all the success coming our way, we need to strike while the iron is hot!”
“Can’t Trevor do it?” I asked, referring to my coworker who served as my co-counsel on the last trial. I knew he was more than capable and slimy enough to happily defend a man who put his hands on women for fun.
“You were specifically requested to join his legal team. I don’t have to explain to you how important these big cases are for partner consideration, do I?
” He tilted his head and made a face that made me want to slap the fuck out of him, pack my shit, and never come back to this office again.
I didn’t need this fucking job, and I’d rather go broke before I sold my soul to the devil for a check.
I was proud as hell and would rather die by a thousand paper cuts and a lemon bath than to ever be fired or lose.
“Yes, I understand but—”
“But nothing, Lewis. I had Britney schedule flights for you two to meet with Mr. Andrews for intermediate counsel session tomorrow in Los Angeles.”
“I can’t go to L.A.—I have plans this weekend.” I said flatly.
“Well, you’ll just have to move some things around,” he answered with a callous shrug. I wanted to flip his desk over and tell his sun damaged ass that I couldn’t move shit around because it was a fucking funeral.
Calm. Down. Amaya.
I started my process of counting down from ten and was slowly able to breathe again. By the time I made it to four, I was able to apply the tactic that had kept me employed and out of prison most of my adult life—I kept my inside thoughts inside.
“Thank you,” I said through tight lips. “I’ll be ready.” I didn’t bother asking if he needed anything else before excusing myself. We walked back into my office as I silently fumed and started thinking of how to exact my revenge in the nice-nastiest way.
“Amaya,” Jocelyn called as she waved her hand in front of my face. Only then did I realize that she had been calling my name and trying to get my attention since we stepped back into my office. I clearly scared the hell out of her the way I was staring off into space for a full two minutes.
“Girl… You okay?”
I swallowed, wincing at the way my throat felt like I had just deep throated a brick. “I’m fine.”
“Listen, you don’t have to do this. My cousin is a doctor, and he can get you a good note.
He’ll say you have covid, the measles, whatever.
” Her dedication to my mental wellbeing made a smile creep across my face.
She knew this whole situation was a huge trigger for me, even though I didn’t tell her why, and the fact that she was willing to risk her cousin’s medical license really warmed my heart.
“I’m okay, Joce,” I assured her, but her questioning eyes had me wondering what my face looked like. “I swear. It’s okay. We’ll take this meeting, get a feel for him, then if it doesn’t go well, we’ll walk away. It’s fine.”
“Okay…” she gave me another leery look before pulling out her tablet and checking an email.
“Shit, the flight leaves at 11am… Do you think you’ll have time to make the funeral?”
“Absolutely not.” I shook my head, feeling like shit.
My best friend Mona was going through a tough time.
She found out her boyfriend died through social media of all places, and the funeral was tomorrow.
We originally had a Galentine’s Trip planned for the weekend, so our other best friends went ahead so it wasn’t a complete waste of money.
“Maybe your aunt can go with her?” she asked, scrambling for a suggestion.
“Her and Uncle B left yesterday for Venice, you know that man is gon’ do the most every Valentine’s Day…
Fuck.” I cursed. Everyone else headed out of town and I stayed back to hold her down, then this bullshit happened.
I knew she would be understanding, that’s just how she was, but me and my guilty conscience would be making this up to her for the next few months.
“Hopefully she’ll be okay. She hadn’t even really known that man for that long. What’s the worst that can happen right?” I asked with a skeptical look on my face.
“Sure…” she answered. We shared a look as an eerie feeling washed over both of us.
Fuck it. I guess we’re going to Cali