Behave or youâll pay.
Behave. Or. You. Will. Pay.
He canât say things like that and then walk awayâor more like kick me outâbecause I have questions. Lots of them. How am I going to pay? Why? Where? When?
So many questions.
Like everything when it comes to Nate, I guess. And I donât know why I want to pay, or maybe I do know. Because Iâm a masochist, in a way, and masochists like pain, especially when itâs a result of something weâve done.
I think thatâs why I kissed him back then, because my masochistic tendencies took hold of me and I couldnât escape them. And God forbid I tell Dad about them, because what would I say? Dad, I think I have masochistic tendencies toward your friend and Iâm unable to stop them. Yeah, I wouldnât be able to look him in the eye again.
Anyway, because of what Nate said, Iâm unable to focus on the file. I read a few lines and then I go back to thinking about all the words he said to me.
Baby girl.
Behave.
Pay.
Oh, and truly fucked. That one is the most important.
Theyâre just measly words, but theyâre digging beneath my skin and jamming themselves against my bones. Maybe I should make a list for them, too, like the negative words, because theyâre triggering something a lot worse than my empathetic reactions.
âHey, new girl.â
I lift my head abruptly and kind of bite my lip in the process. Ow.
But thatâs not the issue here. Itâs that someone called for me. Iâm the only new girl in the intern area today and every single one of the other interns is avoiding me like the plague. Thatâs what happens when they know Iâm Kingsley Shawâs daughter. As in, the Shaw of Weaver & Shaw. They either kiss my ass or avoid me.
The ass-kissing isnât necessary now that they have the internship and my dad is out of the picture. Itâs the first time Iâm glad no one knows about my marriage to Nate. That could get too complicated too fast.
Anyhow, the partners like me, but the interns donât. I think they may even hate me because they donât think Iâve worked as hard as they have to get the internship.
Try impressing Nate, assholes.
So being called out of nowhere and referred to as ânew girlâ instead of Ms. Shaw is coming out of left field. I look up and find the person behind the name-calling. A short woman whoâs wearing khaki slacks and a shirt that are both maybe a few sizes too big. Her thick, black hair frames her small face and sheâs wearing black-framed glasses. She must have bad eyesight, because I can barely see her eyesâthey look like tiny brown dots.
And sheâs looming over my desk, even though her height doesnât really give her that luxury. Her aura does, though. Itâs dark, like pitch-black. And her poker face doesnât help.
âYou called for me?â I ask.
âYes. Follow me.â
âTo where?â
âLess talking and more working, would you?â
I want to ask her who she is, but sheâs already walking away and I have no choice but to go after her. Whatâs with people telling me to follow them today?
We take the elevator to the IT department. I squint, absolutely clueless about all the machines and things lying around. Jeez. If I get lost in this place, Iâll never find my way out.
There are a few guys typing away and staring at a million screens. I guess a big firm like W&S does need this much protection. Iâm kind of impressed by their support work. The lawyers get all the credit, but without the IT techs, the firm will crumble.
The short girl leads me to a computer off to the side and sits in front of it, then motions at a chair beside her. âSit down.â
I do, still unsure about whatâs going on. Now that I study her closer, she looks younger than I thought. Maybe a few years older than me, but sheâs definitely in her twenties.
She retrieves a log and drops it on the table in front of me. Despite her outside demeanor, she has a very soft, feminine voice. âHelp me sort through those case dates. Iâm creating a chart.â
âUh, I think you got the wrong person. Iâm interning forââ
She types away at rapid speed, her full attention on the screen. âI donât care who you intern for. Youâre interning, and that means you can help instead of daydreaming.â
She saw me daydreaming. Yikes. That must be why she picked me.
âIâm a pre-law, though. I really donât know how I can help with IT.â
âThey teach you how to read in college, right? The time youâve spent complaining couldâve been used to get some work done.â
âFine, you donât have to be so snarky.â I open the log. âIâm Gwen. Whatâs your name?â
âJane. Now, work.â
Itâs actually a lot more fun than I thought. I help her in making lists of cases by year and she makes charts for them that can be sorted alphabetically, by lawyer, by nature, by docket number, and even by judge.
And she does it so fast that Iâm a little ashamed it took me hours to go through the files Nate gave me. It was the hostile looks from the other interns, maybe. Jane, however, makes me motivated to work.
âThat is so beautiful.â I motion at the result on the screen, but Jane doesnât even crack a smile, just continues on as if her fingers are fluid and all they know is the colorful keyboard.
âDoing needless things again, Plain Jane?â a guy with frameless glasses asks as he stands beside us. Heâs one of the techs who were sitting in front of the screens earlier.
His friend, whoâs wearing a tacky flannel shirt, joins him, laughing.
âI get bored when I finish my tasks earlier than you, boys,â she says without looking at them, and I can tell it pisses them off, because theyâre not smiling anymore.
âScrew you,â the flannel shirt guy says.
âYou might want to pick your dignity up off the floor before you say that,â I say. Standing up for injustice is instinct for me. No clue who I take after for that. It sure as hell isnât my dad, though, because he only believes in merciless justice. He thinks normal justice is weak and useless.
âAnd who the fuck are you?â frameless glasses guy asks.
I guess no one in IT really knows whatâs going on in the rest of W&S. Because all the junior associates and interns recognized me. Or, at least, most of them did.
I lift my chin. âJaneâs friend.â
âWhatever.â He rolls his eyes and leaves.
âAssholes.â I punch the air after them.
Janeâs manic tapping stops for a second and she tilts her head to stare at me. Itâs a bit creepy with how her hair drops to one side as well. âWhy did you say that?â
âSay what?â
âThat Iâm your friend.â
âBecause they were being jerks. Iâm allergic to those.â Even though I married one.
âI donât need you to stand up for me.â
âSorry, but I canât stay quiet when things like that happen.â
âIf you keep it up, youâll end up getting hurt one day.â
âOne day isnât today.â I stand and twist my neck, then move my legs to get the blood circulating to my toes. âLetâs go get lunch.â
She opens a drawer and retrieves one of those sandwiches you get from the convenience store. âI have my lunch right here.â
âThatâs not called lunch. Letâs get a real one.â I reach for it and she catches my hand so fast, I flinch.
âDonât touch my computer.â
âI was going for the sandwich.â
Her hold slowly eases from around my wrist. I massage the skin as it quickly turns red.
âWow, you guys are super possessive of your computers, huh?â
She pushes her glasses back with the heel of her palm. âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to hurt you.â
âItâs fine.â I grin, even though it does really hurt. Itâs as if sheâs a trained ninja. âLunch?â
She pushes the button on her screen, making it go black, and begrudgingly stands up. I intertwine my arm with hers, and she looks at me funny, but she doesnât pull away as we head to the elevator and take it to the intern area.
âDo you like home-cooked food better? Because I can cook. I love it sometimes, though I love baking more. I brought cupcakes this morning, but I donât think there will be any left, because Daniel stole them all. Do you know him? Heâs funny and has a dreamy accent and dimples. Jeez, they shouldnât be legal. Anyway, Iâll bring you new cupcakes tomorrowââ
âHey.â
âYeah?â
âLawyers arenât usually this chatty.â
âBut weâre supposed to be. Talking is what wins cases, Jane.â
âAnd here I thought it was actually studying law.â
âHey! Rude.â
She lifts a shoulder as if she couldnât care less.
I canât help the smile that pulls my lips. âYouâre funny.â
âIâm sarcastic. Thereâs a difference.â
âIâll go with funny.â I grab my bag from my desk, trying to ignore the internsâ cutting gazes. Jane doesnât even pay them any attention and keeps studying her black nails.
Soon after, we take the elevator to the parking garage. âHey, Jane.â
âWhat?â
âYou really donât know who I am?â
âYou said you were Gwen.â
âYeah, right.â I donât know why I feel giddy because someone actually doesnât associate me with Dad, the firm, or anything.
Iâm just Gwen. And thatâs liberating.
The moment the elevator opens, my smile drops and so does my heart. Because Aspen is getting in Nateâs car and sheâs smiling. No, sheâs laughing, and heâs smiling.
Aspen is in Nateâs car and sheâs happy and itâs lunchtime.
But thatâs wrong.
Yes, I know theyâre close, but sheâs not supposed to be with him during lunch and be happy about it. Or maybe this is normal, but my head doesnât understand that logic right now.
Iâm not thinking as I let my legs take over and start walking toward the car. The same car he picked me up in on our wedding day. The same car that Aspen shouldnât be getting into while sheâs all smiles like that.
But Iâm late, because the car has already left the parking garage. Itâs already out and Iâm standing here, staring at the exit with the sound of the tires and Aspenâs laugh echoing in my ears.
And I want to chop off my ears and feed them to the nearest dog.
âGwen?â
I slowly look away from the exit to focus on Jane. For a second, I forgot she was there, that she almost saw me make a fool out of myself.
Because I shouldnât. Iâm fine, right? It doesnât matter who Nate spends his lunch with or that he returns her smile or that she only laughs with him.
âAre you okay?â Jane runs a hand in front of my face. âYou look like youâre having a stroke.â
âIâm fine. Fiiiine. Yeah, totally fine.â
âYou donât look fine. If you were a PC, Iâd run a malware check. But I canât, so Iâm lost here.â
That earns a smile from me. âI donât think any malware checks can fix me or what I saw.â
âWhat you saw? You mean Aspen?â
âYou know her?â
âWho doesnât? Sheâs the only woman around here with balls bigger than some men.â
âSo you like her?â
âNot specifically. But I like what she does. We need more women like her.â
âI heard Kingsley Shaw hates her, like, loathes and despises her because sheâs a witch.â God, Iâm stooping so low, even using Dad like thisâsorry, Dadâbut itâs because of what I saw that I canât help it.
âI heard heâs an egotistical jerk.â
âHey!â My voice cracks, feeling the jab on behalf of my father.
She lifts a shoulder. âAll Iâm saying is there are always two sides to every story. Just because Kingsley hates her doesnât mean sheâs bad. Besides, Nathaniel is more important and he likes her.â
âHeâ¦doesnât.â
âOf course, he does. I recently joined the firm and even I know that everyone is betting on when theyâll get married.â
They wonât, because heâs married to me. I want to shout that, but I canât. And whatâs the point anyway? When everyone at the firm believes that Nate and Aspen suit each other.
My opinion doesnât matter.
Then why does it feel like my heart is about to splinter into a million pieces?
My mood takes a sharp dive for the rest of the day.
Instead of working at my desk amid the hostility, I take the case files and hang with Jane. And by hang, I mean that I work while she types away at her computer.
All the time, I canât stop thinking about the scene I saw in the parking lot. The synergy between them, the laughs and smiles, and I clink my nails against each other so hard, I break one.
Then I accidentally get a paper cut and my thumb bleeds, and itâs supposed to hurt, but I donât feel the pain. Because the real pain is banging on the walls of my ribcage.
So I review the case files. All of them. Thatâs what I do when Iâm stressed. I enter high-functioning mode.
And I needed to finish them so I could see him again. I couldnât just go to his office without having done my work. But now, I have.
So I reorganize the files and the Post-it Notes I made for each detail that could be used as a weakness, as well as my observations through some research I did myself and any advanced research I asked Jane to help with.
Iâm feeling confident when Iâm carrying them to his office. I did a great job.
My phone vibrates and I juggle the files in one hand and check the text with the other.
Chris: Hey, stranger.
I clink my nails under the papers. After everything that happened over the last couple of weeks, I kind of ghosted my college friends, Chris included. He came by the house soon after Dadâs accident and I told him I needed time to wrap my head around things.
And I did.
The result is that I canât keep dragging him into my mess anymore. I guess I was just too hopeful when I thought he could make me forget.
I realize now that no one can.
So I type with one hand.
Me: Hey! Sorry I havenât been around.
Chris: And here I thought you forgot about me.
Me: I havenât. We need to talk.
Chris: Now?
Me: In a bit.
Chris: Where are you? Iâll pick you up.
Me: Iâll send you the address.
He really doesnât need to since I have my car, but I forget all about that because Iâm in front of Nateâs office and I have all the work done.
So I send him my current location and hide the phone.
âMiss Shaw,â Nateâs assistant, Grace, greets me. Sheâs a middle-aged woman with a kind smile that Iâve always found heartwarming.
âIs Nate in there? I finished the case files and I think I have solid footing on some weaknesses.â
âHe went home for the day.â
âHeâ¦what?â
âHe went out for lunch and said he wouldnât be coming back for the rest of the day. Iâll hand them to him tomorrow morning.â
The world starts spinning and it takes superhuman control to place the files on Graceâs desk.
I didnât hear it wrong.
Nate went out to lunch and called it a day.
With Aspen.
Heâs been with Aspen all this time.
The shards that splintered in my chest earlier are digging their way into my heart and I canât fucking breathe.
But I have to. I need to breathe.
So I go outside to do just that.