“My meeting is with D—Miss Evans,” I quickly correct myself.

He gives me a once-over, taking in my dusty boots, my cargo pants that are almost worn at the knee, and my plain gray T-shirt with the swoosh logo over the breast pocket. He doesn’t think I belong here or could pay the bills if I needed his services. He’s right on the first count, but not on the second. I could buy this firm, sell the assets off for junk and still not notice the dip in my bank account.

“Dove doesn’t hold meetings. She’s not a lawyer.” The man smirks, and that tells me everything I need to know. Lawyers are the epitome of everything I dislike about humanity and why I spend so much time photographing animals, nature, and abandoned cities. I wonder how much she loves her job here because it doesn’t seem like the greatest work environment. The itch in my back intensifies. I know, though, if I fight this guy, it’ll make things worse for Dove, and I have a feeling things aren’t great here as it is.

I get to my feet. “All right. Tell her Jay Anderson was here, and that I’m sorry we weren’t able to have our meeting.”

The lawyer starts to leave and then stops, his eyes narrowing. “Jay Anderson the documentarian? Pulitzer Prize winning photographer Jay Anderson?”

I’m half tempted to deny it because he’s only going to suck up to me in ways that make me more uncomfortable than when he thought I was less important than the dirt under his shoes, but I also want to check up on Dove. Someone so light and cheery being stuck in this hellhole has to be some kind of misery.

“Yeah. I’m that Jay Anderson.”

He shoves his hand out. “Damn. I’m a real fan of your Canis Lupus series, although I admit I’m a little skeptical of your pack dynamic analysis.”

“Lots of people were.” Especially men. They really loved the idea of the alpha, beta, whatever hierarchy when real packs weren’t like that. This dude watched my five-episode series and despite watching nearly ten hours of footage, he’s still a doubter because it doesn’t fit into his world view.

“Still, gorgeous work and the Pulitzer. Not many people can say they have one of those.”

Silence stretches out between us as he waits for me to say something, but what’s there to say? That he’s right? Not many people do have that prize. Yes, thank you for stating the obvious. “So what was it that you wanted to chat with Dove about? Like I said, she’s not a lawyer, and I’m sorry if you got the impression she was. However, we here at Miller, Thomas, Dunn & Graham are fully equipped to provide any service you need.” He tucks a busines card into my shirt pocket.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that the things I need can only be provided by Dove, but I don’t like the way he’s talking and don’t want to reduce her to some kind of weird sexual object for him. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks anyway.”

“Wait. You said you needed to talk to Dove? Let me get her. In fact, it’s already time for lunch, isn’t it? Bethany, what do I have on my schedule?” he asks the receptionist.

“There’s a lunch with Mr. Donaldson.”

“Cancel it.”

“But—”

“Cancel. It,” he repeats through gritted teeth, all the while trying to maintain a smile. It’s not a good look on him. “So Jay—I can call you Jay, right? Let’s get Dove out here, and we’ll go to lunch.”

If I say no, does he shit on Dove worse than he already does? If I say yes, do I put her in a tough spot? Before I can answer, Dove comes walking by. I jerk to attention like a hunting dog who just caught scent of his prey.

Thomas snaps his fingers. “Dove. Here.”

I shove my fists into my pockets so I don’t punch this asshole in the jaw and get Dove fired on the spot.

“Um, Jay?”

Thomas smiles his snake oil smile and says, “Yes, he said he had an appointment with you.”

Dove’s eyes widen in surprise. Her gaze flits from me to her boss and back again.

“I lied,” I say before she can figure out what the best response is. I’m a fucking prick for not thinking this through and putting her on the spot. “I’m actually her neighbor and I lost my keys to my place. Dove and I help each other out, and I was hoping I could hang at her place until the locksmith came.”

Thomas is taken aback. “You two live in the same building? I guess documentary work doesn’t pay much these days.” He plucks the card out of my pocket. “We’ll have to do lunch another day. Dove’s busy.”

She gives me a pained smile and a small head bob before trotting after her boss. The glass door behind me slides open. The receptionist tilts her head to the now open entrance. “Thank you for coming to Miller, Thomas, Dunn & Graham,” she chirps.

This place is scarier than a haunted house. I’m going to have to get Dove out of here.

Eight

Dove

“Back to work, Dove. I’m going to need your help later this afternoon. You might want to skip lunch.” Before I can respond, Thomas is turning and walking away. I bite the inside of my cheek so that I don’t say something to him.

I’m not a confrontational person, but he’s making it difficult for me to remain that way. It’s not in me, though, and I know it. I’ve always gone with the motto to keep your head down and do what you need to do.

I wish at times like this I could be a little bit more like my sister, but I think it’s easier to say what’s on your mind when you don’t have to worry about someone literally snatching the food right off your table. And that’s exactly what would happen if I said everything that I’ve bottled up inside to my boss. I’d be jobless and homeless.

Thomas was so rude to Jay today that I almost lost my cool. He even looked down his nose at him. He usually saves those moves for the women in the office so he can get a glimpse down their shirts. His behavior is nothing new. It’s commonplace around here. Almost all of the partners here look down at the staff.

I usually don’t let it get to me when they do it to me. Yet, for some reason when it was aimed at Jay, it bothered me more than I care to admit. Jay is a nice person, and he didn’t deserve that sort of treatment.

I’d bet anything that he stopped by because he was worried about me and wanted to make sure I’d made it to work. Everything the man does is sweet. He even put me to bed last night. There had been no expectations or anything from him.

“You heard him,” Laura says to me in a tart voice. You don't have to try to look down her blouse. There is no missing what she wants you to see. I can’t even blame her. She’s got killer boobs. If big boobs make you a bitch, then I am fine with my nice handful.

Still unable to be a bitch like her and unwilling to give her a reason to be a bigger one to me, I smile before getting back to my job. Well, kind of getting back to it. I retreat to the mailroom to text Avery but find I already have a few messages from her waiting for me.

She’s a late riser, but her classes start later in the day, and I know she stays up late to study.

Avery: So…. give me the details.

I can see from the time the first text was sent and the second landed that she didn't give me time to do anything.