Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
EVAN
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath when my stomach tightens again.
Gripping the bottom of my chair, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing my muscles to unclench as I glance around the room, relieved that, across the table from me, my opposing counsel is currently engaged in a furious debate with his client and is paying me absolutely no attention.
It’s clear this idiot didn’t spend more than five minutes preparing his client for this deposition, and he’s now paying the price for it because the client absolutely folded in the face of my questioning.
I’d feel smug and victorious except I have to pee, my back is killing me from sitting in the same position for so long, and I’ve been having these stupid Braxton Hicks contractions on and off all day that make me want to curl up into a ball on the floor.
Fuck it.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I say loudly enough to get both of their attentions. Standing up as authoritatively as I can while also being thirty-seven weeks pregnant, I press my hands into the table and lean forward.
Both men look up at me, irritation crossing the lawyer’s face. “I’m sorry, did you need something? We’re trying to have a private conversation here.”
Tilting my head to the side, I study him, annoyance bubbling under my skin.
“Were you? Because it looks to me like you were trying to figure out how to either salvage this trainwreck of a deposition or make it go away entirely since your client all but tanked your case, and I don’t think I need to be here for that. ”
The attorney splutters out what I think is some kind of answer, although little of what he says resembles actual words.
The baby decides this is the perfect moment to jab my bladder hard enough that I almost pee on the conference room floor, and annoyance turns to rage.
I hold up a hand. “Save it. When you can extend me the courtesy of showing up here with a client who is actually prepared to answer my questions, you call me. Until then, you can see yourselves out.”
I grab my bag and my files and leave the room without a backwards glance.
The receptionist for the conference floor gives me a sympathetic glance as I rush past her, dumping my bag and files on the reception counter and heading straight for the ladies’ room.
Pushing through the doors, I make a beeline for one of the stalls.
Jesus motherfucking Christ, I hate being pregnant so fucking much. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how anyone does this more than once.
Finishing up, I start to stand, but before I can get all the way up, I feel a weird little snap, and suddenly liquid comes gushing out of me.
I stare down at the toilet, confused for a full thirty seconds before the realization of what just happened slams into me like a truck, and I drop back down onto the toilet.
My water broke.
The contractions weren’t practice. They’re real.
Right on cue, my lower half seizes up, and I bend forward, slamming a hand to the wall of the bathroom stall and breathing through the pain that is suddenly radiating up my back and down my legs.
Oh, fuck no.
I’m in fucking labor. In a law firm bathroom.
I am officially in hell.
I reach for my phone—to do what, I’m not exactly sure—but then remember that it’s in my bag on the desk outside the bathroom. Standing on shaky legs, I take a few deep breaths, trying to remember what the doctor said about labor.
It can take a while for first time moms.
Go to the hospital when the contractions are five minutes apart.
Call me if your water breaks.
Seems simple enough.
“Get your shit together, Evan,” I mutter. “You’ve argued impossible motions in court with nothing but luck and a prayer and won. You can fucking do this. Call the doctor and figure out what the hell to do, then text Cooper.”
Feeling better with a plan, I toss back my hair, straighten my skirt, square my shoulders, and leave the stall, washing my hands and then shoving open the door of the bathroom, striding to reception in full badass bitch mode to grab my stuff and get to my phone.
“Evangeline, can I see you in conference room B please?”
I whip around to see Austin standing behind me, arms crossed over his chest and mouth set in a firm line.
Everything about him screams displeased, and to make matters worse, that smarmy trust fund baby associate Fidget Spinner Kevin is standing behind him, mirroring his pose.
Badass bitch mode tries to leave the chat, but I hold onto it for dear life.
“Can it wait? I’m a little busy right now, and we have a meeting in an hour.
” I have no idea whether I’ll even be at that meeting in an hour, but whatever it takes to get Austin off my back.
“No, Evangeline, it can’t wait. Conference room B. Now.” He spins and starts walking down the hall with the confidence of a man who knows he’s going to be followed. I consider just not going, but then Kevin glances down at my belly, smirking at me and turning to follow Austin.
Oh fuck no.
I’ll hold the baby in with my own goddamn hands before I let this dudebro fuckboy best me.
Snatching my bag and files off the counter, I walk to conference room B, striding through the door, trying to project more confident lawyer who is not here for your shit and less terrified woman who might give birth on the conference room floor.
When my stomach clenches again as I go to take a seat, I grit my teeth, white knuckling the conference table and digging my toes into the bottom of my shoes.
I fight to keep my face neutral and my eyes narrowed on the men across from me as I try to figure out how long it’s been since my last contraction.
Way more than five minutes.
Probably.
Sweat slides down my spine as I reach into my bag, pulling out my phone and unlocking the screen, opening my messages with Cooper, my thumbs flying across the keyboard.
Me
Conference room B. Now.
“Are we keeping you from something?”
Tossing my phone back in my bag, I look up at Austin, my patience with this man a thing of the past. “So, so many things. Why am I here, Austin?”
He blinks at me, unused to being talked back to, and I feel a shot of satisfaction even as the stern expression slides back onto his face. “It’s come to my attention that you mouthed off to opposing counsel in the Lazarus case, and he is extremely upset.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of victory on Kevin’s face.
“Has it?” I ask cooly, talking to Austin but looking right at Kevin. “And how exactly was that brought to your attention, considering it literally just happened.”
Kevin shrugs, and I want to punch him in his smug, stupid face. “The client is an old friend of my dad’s from Princeton. He came up to my office and told me.”
I roll my eyes. “I guess conflicts of interest don’t apply on the golf course.”
“He was simply bringing a matter of grave importance to my attention.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Grave importance? You want to know what would have been gravely important? Him preparing his client instead of showing up and winging it because he assumed I was too pregnant and too female to properly conduct a deposition. Well, joke’s on him because I may be pregnant and I may be a woman, but I’m a damn good lawyer, and I wiped the floor with both of them.
He wasn’t bent out of shape because I mouthed off to him.
” I say the words using air quotes. “He was pissed because I made his client—and him by extension—look like an idiot. But that’s his problem, not mine, so I’ll ask you again. Why am I here?”
Before Austin can answer me, the door opens, and I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Cooper who’s walking into the room. The baby currently rolling around in my belly with what I swear is excitement told me all on her own.
So fucking weird. Kind of cool. But also super weird.
“Cooper, what are you doing here?” Austin asks.
Cooper doesn’t spare Austin a glance. Instead, his eyes land directly on me at exactly the same time as another contraction hits, pain gripping my middle like a vise.
I don’t react except to clench my hands into fists, but Cooper sizes up the situation in a nanosecond, striding to my side and resting a hand on my lower back, pressing firmly.
I bite back a sigh of relief and lock eyes with him.
Until this second, I’ve never understood how people have entire conversations without words, but as Cooper studies me with blue eyes that radiate calm reassurance, that’s exactly what happens.
You okay, Rhodes?
The last thing I am is okay, but I need to deal with whatever this is before I deal with the other thing.
Then that’s what we’ll do. One thing at a time, Ev. Together.
Knowing Cooper is here, that whatever happens today I don’t have to do it alone, has my whole body relaxing, my shoulders dropping from where they were hunched up around my ears and my hands unclenching. Cooper gives me a smile and a wink as if to say We’ve got this.
With him next to me, I think maybe we do.
“If you’re finished,” Austin says cooly, and we both turn to face him.
I raise an eyebrow. “You were just about to tell me why I’m standing in this conference room right now instead of doing the million other things on my to-do list for the day.”
Like have a damn baby.
Cooper must read my mind because he snickers, sliding his leg over to knock against mine.
Austin lays his hands flat on the table and leans into them.
“We’re here, Evangeline, because of your behavior in this morning’s deposition, which was entirely unbecoming for a senior associate at this firm.
I have been concerned for months about the way you have been composing yourself, and this morning just confirmed for me what I already know.
Given your…”—he trails off, his gaze traveling down to my stomach and back up again—“split focus as of late, I’m going to be reassessing your eligibility for partnership. ”