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  She might be small in stature, but when it came to getting what she wanted, Caitlyn was a gladiator.

  A gladiator who, when she entered the conference room at 4:46, found she was not the first to arrive as she had hoped. Ash had beaten her to it and was sitting in the best spot at the conference table.

  “Do you need something?” Ash didn’t bother to look up, as if eye contact were beneath her.

  “You’re in my seat.” Caitlyn should have kept her complaint to herself, but the woman was too annoying. It just slipped out.

  Ash made a full-scale Broadway production of checking the chair, leaning over to the left side and then the right. “Is your name on it? I’m not seeing it.”

  This over the top display was like a scratchy tag along the back of Caitlyn’s neck, small on its own but capable of ruining the entire day. “Maybe you need your reading glasses.”

  “An age joke. I’ve never heard one of those before, Elle Woods.”

  A Legally Blonde reference? Caitlyn’s core temperature reached a boiling point. The woman had made the exact same joke six years ago, yet continued to maintain she had no recollection of it. The nerve!

  “That is where I always sit for company meetings.” Caitlyn sounded like an angry bear, and an irrational one at that, but she was beyond caring.

  “This is your first one,” Ash pointed out. “You’ve been here a week.”

  Caitlyn balled her fists, itching for a fight. While she wasn’t a violent person, Ash rubbed her the wrong way.

  Instantly, several graphic suggestions of how Ash might rub her the right way zipped through her head, leaving Caitlyn off-balance and even more irate. No other woman had ever had this effect on her, not even her evil college ex. Caitlyn’s self-control was legendary. So why couldn’t her willpower wrestle her libido to the ground and subdue it once and for all?

  “I meant back in New York.” Caitlyn burned with the urge to stomp over to the chair and upend it just to watch Ash slide to the floor on her ass. The upheaval of the past couple weeks must’ve taken more out of her than she’d thought. “That’s where I sit. Always.”

  “Maybe you should go back to New York, then. I’m sure your chair and booster seat miss you.” The iciness in Ash’s tone rang loudly in Caitlyn’s head. It was clear Ash didn’t want Caitlyn in the same room, or even the same city.

  Wait. Had she made a crack about a booster seat? Caitlyn’s blood got that much closer to boiling.

  Why did Ash have to be so caustic? It went beyond the race for partner, or so it seemed to Caitlyn. There was something personal in Ash’s petty attacks, something deeper than a work rivalry. But why? It wasn’t like they had a history, aside from one measly little kiss.

  A kiss that had meant absolutely nothing.

  This thought provoked only the slightest twinge of unease, proving her ability to lie had improved considerably over the past six years. Even—or especially—to herself. But if she had attached any meaning to the kiss—which she hadn’t, as she had just established—she wouldn’t any longer. Not when it had obviously meant so little to the other party involved.

  Clenching her jaw, Caitlyn seated herself in the chair directly across from Ash. It was the second-best spot in the conference room, allowing her to keep an eye on her rival’s every move. Like a lioness waiting for the kill.

  Over the next several minutes, the conference room filled to capacity, the stragglers lining up along the walls as Caitlyn had anticipated. At precisely five o’clock, Larry Cooper strutted in. Though Caitlyn was fond of him because of their history, even she could admit he wasn’t overly formidable. His lack of hair and overall shabbiness undercut his image. Like Caitlyn, people were prone to underestimate Larry. They usually came to regret the error. He was a genius at divorce settlements, if little else.

  Everyone in the room sat up straighter when Larry arrived, proving to Caitlyn that her new colleagues weren’t stupid. A senior equity partner, no matter how unassuming in appearance, was to be respected and feared. “Welcome, everyone, and thanks for making the time on a Friday afternoon.”

  As if we had a choice. Caitlyn pressed her lips together firmly so as not to laugh out loud. Scheduling a mandatory meeting for the end of the day on a Friday was a move that could’ve come straight out of Power Plays 101.

  Obviously pleased with himself, Larry took his seat at the head of the table. He rested his chin on steepled fingers in a practiced way that made Caitlyn think he’d been watching law shows on television while practicing the actors’ gestures in a mirror.

  “Mr. Harding has asked me to address an important issue with you all regarding partnership offers.” Larry motioned to the Polycom device in the center of the table, suggesting Mr. Harding was present on the other side, but Caitlyn knew this to be false. She’d been in the room long enough to know no one had set up a call, and besides, she knew her great-uncle had a standing appointment at the nineteenth hole of the country club on Friday afternoons.

  It appeared, however, Caitlyn was the only one who knew this, as there were murmurs all around the room the moment the man’s name was mentioned, growing more urgent when the topic of partnerships was raised.

  No, she was not the only one after all. From the way Ash was pinching her lips together to ward off a smirk, she knew the Polycom ruse was bullshit too.

  Larry waved for them to simmer down. “Due to the difficult economic environment, the number of offers we can make will be limited. Furthermore, we will be looking especially closely at the ability to bring in new business, in addition to billable hours.”

  Caitlyn glanced around the table, taking in the people whispering behind their hands, trying to determine who among them thought they had a chance, and which ones had already started sending out their resumes. From what Caitlyn had observed already, Ralph and James were too lazy to go the extra mile. Hopefully they were getting their affairs in order. Bruce was efficient and conscientious. At any other firm, he’d be a contender, but his billable hours paled in comparison to Ash’s.

  Zach, a talented if overly obsequious fourth-year associate she’d met at the start of the week, gave off an air of relaxed amusement. He had another year before his own partnership panic kicked in. If there’d been plenty of partnerships to go around, he might have had a chance.

  Caitlyn would’ve felt guilty that her presence had made the competition harder, but it was the nature of the business, and if they hadn’t used her paycheck as an excuse, they would’ve found something else. So anyway, better luck to Zach next year. Regardless, Caitlyn pegged him as a useful ally and made a note to get to know him better. One never knew when having an eager brown-noser on one’s side would come in handy.

  “I don’t need to explain what you need to do to impress us.” Again, Larry motioned to the Polycom where the phantom Mr. Harding sat in silent judgment. “Billable hours and signing clients.”

  Caitlyn sat on her hands to keep herself from palm slapping Larry. Had no one ever taught him that if you tell people you don’t need to say something, the last thing you should do is proceed to spell it out? It was a good thing he never had to go in front of a jury. They would eat him alive. He was a good lawyer in his own sphere, but a thought began to worry away at the back of her consciousness. Without Uncle Bertie’s firm hand guiding them on a daily basis, what exactly was going on in the Boston office?

  Also, how long was this meeting going to last, anyway? Caitlyn stared at Ash, silently seething as she realized her rival had a view of the clock while she did not.

  “It’s no secret Ashley Tanner is killing everyone in the billable hours department,” Larry announced, basically pinning a target on the woman’s back if there wasn’t already one there. “You can try to catch up, but by my calculation, you’d have to work every minute for the rest of the year to have a chance.”

  As nervous laughter broke out around the room, several people made eye contact with their confidants, and Caitlyn did her best to make mental pictures, to m
ap out the jostling alliances in the office. Meanwhile, Ash looked at no one, but bit down on her bottom lip so hard it turned white. Any harder and she would draw blood.

  Caitlyn wanted to tell her to stop, that a lip that lush didn’t deserve to be punished. It would be a ridiculous thing to say. Caitlyn shouldn’t even be thinking it. She couldn’t decide if Ash disliked being the subject of laughter, or if it was a pathetic attempt to rein in her gloating.

  “On that note,” Larry said when the laughter died down, “does anyone have new clients they’d like to announce?”

  No one spoke up. Caitlyn waited while the others shifted nervously in their seats. Finally, she lifted her hand and addressed the group. “It’s not exactly a whale, but I received a signed retainer from Moorehead Academy about half an hour ago.”

  “Moorehead Academy?” Larry was nearly salivating as he swept his eyes around the conference room. “Most of you probably know that as the prep school you applied to but didn’t get in. Although, as I recall from her résumé, Caitlyn here did.”

  “Class of 2013. Go Badgers.” Noticing Ash was staring daggers at her, Caitlyn winked, then held back a chuckle when Ash’s cheeks went up in flames.

  “What’s the case?” Larry asked.

  “A senior on the rowing team was expelled last fall after an altercation with the coach that violated the Code of Conduct,” Caitlyn explained. “The parents are alleging breach of contract based on the student’s previously identified learning disability. Frankly, it sounds like a nuisance lawsuit. These types of cases are almost always dismissed.”

  “Even so, they’ll appreciate having good legal representation. And I don’t think I need to explain how Moorehead can open up more business connections.” As Larry paused, Caitlyn counted the seconds until he added, “Parents. Legacies. Former presidents. Heads of Fortune 500 companies.” He didn’t need to explain, but he seemed compelled to do it anyway. He concluded with, “And she brought this in on her fifth day on the job, folks.”

  And now there was a target pinned on Caitlyn’s back too.

  Caitlyn’s eyes flicked to Ash’s and she nearly wilted. The teeth gnashing was now directed solely at Caitlyn, and if she was being honest with herself, it was fucking terrifying. Also exhilarating, if in a frightening way. There was no question Ash saw this as a two-horse race. A fight to the death.

  Was Caitlyn the only one who had a sudden vision of the two of them stripping down and oiling up to wrestle for the partnership like Greek Olympians?

  “Great job,” Larry said to her, but Caitlyn barely heard him. Sweat beaded on her brow as though she’d been hit with a wall of flames, unable to tear her eyes away from Ash, who would certainly notice the bizarre and lust-filled expression almost certainly plastered on her face. She wouldn’t last another second in this meeting if she didn’t get that imagination of hers under control.

  “Uh, thanks,” Caitlyn muttered, forcing herself to turn her head toward Larry. “I thought I’d go over on Monday to sit down with them and get a fuller picture of the case before I draw up a motion to dismiss.”

  Larry stroked his chin. “Actually, why don’t you take another associate with you?”

  “Okay, let’s see.” Caitlyn’s eyes panned the room, stopping on Zach. “How about I take—"

  “Ashley,” Larry supplied. He nodded, looking pleased with himself.

  Caitlyn nearly choked. “Someone more junior, surely. This case sounds about as routine as they come.”

  “Nevertheless, I think we want to put our best foot forward on this one,” Larry argued, his mind clearly made up. “We want Moorehead to know we consider them an important client, no matter the size of this first case. I think the two of you will make an impressive team.”

  She and Ash a team?

  If Caitlyn had been praying for a cold shower moments before, Larry’s words were like a barrel of ice over her head. It was one thing to work in the same office as a woman who was hellbent on destroying her, and quite another to be forced to work with her so intimately.

  No! Not intimate. That wasn’t the right word at all.

  She’d meant… Caitlyn had no idea what she’d meant. Apparently the word intimate when applied to Ashley Tanner was enough to start her body buzzing and turn her brain into melted goo. For the first time since arriving in Boston, Caitlyn doubted her ability to come out on top.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Breanna, quick!” Mike barked through the open sliding patio door as Ash stepped through the gate into her mother’s backyard. “Grab the boys and their go bags!”

  With a look of alarm, Ash’s younger sister set her beer down on the wicker table. “What’s wrong?”

  “Look who’s here on a Saturday.” Mike extended a freckled finger at Ash. “It must be the end of the world.”

  “Smart ass.” Ash let out a pained sigh as she marched up to her brother and hip checked him. “Always lovely to see my family.”

  “We’re related?” Breanna shot Mike a conspiratorial look. “Is she a distant cousin or something?”

  Sensing the arrival of someone he didn’t know, the scrappy little dog next door raised the alarm, with another mutt a few houses over taking up the battle cry. The silly creatures were as intent on giving her shit as Ash’s siblings were. She’d known every single one of them since they were pups.

  “What’s the ruckus out here?” Ash’s mom stepped through the sliding door and onto the patio. “The boys are leaving the neighbor’s dog alone, aren’t they? You know how he feels about anyone teasing his poodle.”

  “No one has bothered the poodle—or the neighbor’s noodle—in years, Mom.” Mike held out his fist for Breanna to bump, absurdly pleased over his juvenile joke.

  “I’m serious, son,” Ash’s mom scolded. “Where are those boys of yours?”

  “Playing with their trucks by the tree. See?” Mike pointed to where Ash’s nephews were crashing toy trucks into rock piles, completely oblivious to the barking dogs or their aunt’s arrival.

  Ash was beginning to wonder if her mom was conspiring with her siblings. She hadn’t smiled or even acknowledged her eldest daughter’s presence. Ash was just about to clear her throat when her mom turned, yelping at nearly the same frequency as the dog next door.

  “Heavens, Ashley!” Her mom affixed her glasses, which had slid down her nose as she jumped backward in surprise. “I didn’t even see you there. Have a seat. Make yourself at home. Mike, grab your sister a beer.”

  “Are her legs broken?” Mike grumbled.

  “No, but yours will be if you don’t get moving, buster!” Her mom shook a fist playfully at her son before settling onto one of the wicker loveseats. She patted the dark blue cushion for Ash to join her.

  “Okay, okay.” Mike held his hands in the air. “We wouldn’t want the princess having to serve herself. Hey Bree, maybe you can start peeling the skin off some grapes in case our sister needs a snack. Should I grab a palm leaf to fan you with?”

  “Maybe you should.” Ash’s tone was sharper than she’d intended, but her brother’s teasing irrationally annoyed her, considering how much she’d sacrificed over the years for him to enjoy a relatively cushy life. “I don’t remember you turning me down when I signed the check for the boys’ summer camp earlier this year.”

  “Hey, relax.” Mike’s cheeks were bright red as he turned toward the cooler full of ice-cold brews. As a police officer, it wasn’t like her brother didn’t work his butt off. He just didn’t get paid anywhere near what Ash did. Clearly it wounded his pride to have it pointed out, and Ash felt somewhat bad about bringing up the issue when she’d been the one to insist on paying in the first place. Still, would it kill him to acknowledge how hard she worked for the family?

  “Why aren’t you at the office?” Breanna demanded. She took a seat across from Ash, fixing her with an intense stare that suddenly made the afternoon feel more like an inquisition than a friendly get-together.

  “It’s Saturday,” their mom c
hided. “Her office isn’t open on weekends, Bree.”

  “Like that matters,” Breanna countered. “Did the building catch fire or something?”

  Ash snatched the can of beer her brother held out for her, tilting it toward him in salute before taking a swig. “The servers are down this weekend for maintenance. Some sort of system migration. They told us not to come in.”

  “Don’t you have a laptop?” Mike asked.

  “It’s like you don’t want me here or something,” Ash snapped, perturbed by the barrage of questions and how central her perpetual absence from family gatherings was to their line of inquiry.

  “Of course we do,” her mother interjected in the voice that always ended sibling bickering.

  “Where’s Felicia?” Ash asked, determined to keep things pleasant. It was the first day she’d had off in months, and despite what she liked to tell herself, she really had missed spending time with these idiots.

  “Home, resting.” Mike sat in the chair next to Breanna, looking over his shoulder to keep a vigilant eye on his boys, who were now driving their trucks through the wading pool, dirty wheels and all.

  “Everything okay with the baby?” Ash sipped the beer, the tension easing from her shoulders in a way she hadn’t experienced in forever. And this was only the first day off. She had another one coming tomorrow. After two days in a row of not working, she might be nothing but a quivering mound of Jell-O when she got back to the office on Monday.

  “It’s just too hot for her right now. Swollen ankles and those Braxton Hicks contractions. The last trimester is a bitch.” He winced as if he were the one in physical pain.

  “Wow. Yeah. It must be terrible for you,” Ash quipped, making Breanna titter. Ash raised a hand in the air for her sister to give a pretend high-five, even though a table separated them.

  Mike rolled his eyes at their antics, downing a huge gulp of his beer and looking wounded.