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  “I have nothing against our clients,” Ash responded. “And detest is a strong word.”

  “Strong, but not completely off base?” Caitlyn pressed, not missing the fact Ash had specified she didn’t detest their clients, but had not extended Caitlyn the same courtesy.

  “It must have been nice to go to a place like this. That’s all.” Ash’s tone suggested that wasn’t all, but it was enough. “I went to a cramped school in the city with no air conditioning and thirty-five kids in a room. They never turned on the heat before December first. We didn’t have a rowing team, or a lacrosse field, and whatever else you all took for granted. But I’ll tell you one thing. If we shouted words like that coach is using, we’d have landed ourselves in detention.”

  “You can’t fault a coach for being passionate. It’s how they motivate people.” Caitlyn shot Ash a loaded look, not appreciating having the woman’s public school experience tossed in her face like somehow she was personally responsible. “You should try it.”

  “Being vulgar?”

  “Motivating people. Look, I may be new, but it’s not a secret you’re hardly Miss Popularity back in the office. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s easier to attract bees with honey instead of vinegar?”

  “I’m allergic to bees. And as I mentioned earlier, I’m not much of a team player.”

  “You’ve made that abundantly clear.” Caitlyn stopped walking. The imposing brick façade of the administrative building was within sight and it was time to make a few things crystal clear to this partner who’d been foisted on her. “Here’s the thing. Like it or not, we’re working on this case together. Take the class warfare hostility down a notch or ten.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.” Ash, too, had come to a stop, but she seemed poised to bolt at the slightest provocation, like a cat watching an approaching toddler with sticky fingers. She seemed uncharacteristically uncertain of herself. “I may be competitive but I’m not hostile.”

  “Bullshit.” Caitlyn hopped to the next step up so she could look Ash in the eyes without having to crane her neck. “You work with some of the best lawyers around, but you act like we’re all inferior because you had to work so hard to get where you are. Newsflash, sister. We all worked hard. I sure as hell did, anyway. And I managed to climb to where I am without kicking everyone out of my way.”

  “You expect me to believe you got to where you are without using any special connections?” The incredulity of Ash’s tone made Caitlyn’s blood turn red hot. But as much as she wanted to deny the accusation, she couldn’t.

  Not anymore.

  For the first time in her life, Caitlyn had knowingly used her family connections to get transferred to the Boston office despite a hiring freeze. And even though she’d had little choice, she hated herself for it. And she hated Ash for the reminder.

  “Stop with the grass-is-greener shit, okay?” Caitlyn spat. “Yeah, I went to boarding school. My mom also died when I was born and my father blamed me for it and left me to be raised by a butler and a housekeeper. Everyone has their own hardships.”

  Much to Caitlyn’s surprise, Ash’s demeanor changed, hostility softening as a look of embarrassment came over her. “I’m sorry about your mom. I don’t know if I ever said, but I lost my dad when I was young. I know that’s hard.”

  “You did mention it once, yeah. What happened?” Caitlyn found herself asking, even though she should have let it rest. They had only a few minutes left before they needed to report for their meeting, making this the worst time to start a personal conversation.

  “My dad worked construction. He hurt his back and—well, you don’t show up, you don’t get a paycheck. He went to the doctor and got this new miracle drug. Totally nonaddictive, the doctor swore. Turned out he was prescribed Oxycontin.” Ash shrugged, leaving it for Caitlyn to fill in the devastating blanks.

  Caitlyn did just that, her heart squeezing in sympathy for the terrible loss. “I’m sorry.”

  Ash shrugged a second time, after which the petulance drained out of her and was replaced by an almost eerie calm. “It’s almost time for our meeting. Just so we’re clear, once I’m through those doors, I’m a hundred percent focused on our client. None of the rest of this matters. Not what school I went to, socioeconomic issues, or anything else.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  Caitlyn believed it. From what she had seen, Ash had no trouble turning off her own personality. When it came to getting the job done, the woman was a fucking machine. Whether it was wise for Caitlyn to continue trying to scratch beneath Ash’s robotic exterior, especially given their history of mutual attraction, was a very different question.

  With a simple answer: No.

  “Thank you for coming in this morning.” Mary Welling, the academy’s Head of School, sat up straight in the chair behind her desk wearing a pinched expression Caitlyn had noticed was common among clients when meeting for the first time. She tried not to take it personally. Meeting with a lawyer was almost never good news.

  “It’s our pleasure.” Had it not been for Ash’s presence, Caitlyn might’ve made a crack about being glad this meeting wasn’t about Sadie. However, she’d already decided it was in her best interest to say as little about her family life as possible. The less said about Sadie, or Caitlyn’s abrupt return to Massachusetts, the better.

  Ms. Welling opened a folder and sifted through the contents. “I have Alex Foster’s academic records for you as requested. My assistant is preparing a copy of the transcript from the disciplinary board hearing.”

  “Great, thank you. Before we go further”—Caitlyn gestured toward Ash—“would you mind recapping what happened with Mr. Foster for my colleague’s benefit?”

  “Certainly.” The Head of School cleared her throat. “Alex transferred to Moorehead Academy as a Second Form student, or what would be known at most schools as an eighth grader. He had been in a special education class at his previous school but his parents believed a mainstream classroom would be better for his college potential.”

  “He’d been diagnosed with a learning disability?” Ash asked, tapping the tip of her pen against her lip as she looked up from the open notebook in front of her.

  “That’s right,” Ms. Welling confirmed. “He had a mild language processing disorder which, combined with moderate attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, was more than his public school could accommodate in a regular classroom setting.”

  “But you felt Alex would do all right handling the classes at Moorehead?” Caitlyn asked. Ash’s mouth had opened at the same moment as hers and it was clear from the woman’s half smile that she’d intended to ask the same thing.

  “We have an average class size of nine pupils,” Ms. Welling explained, unable to conceal a hint of pride. “It’s not at all uncommon for students who struggle in traditional learning environments to thrive here at Moorehead.”

  “Would you say Mr. Foster did that? Thrived?” Ash asked. She tapped the pen again and this time Caitlyn struggled to pull her eyes away from lips that were shiny and red from a fresh application of lipstick.

  “I…” Ms. Welling shifted in her chair, hesitating. Caitlyn leaned forward, curious about the pause and not wanting to miss anything important because she was inappropriately distracted by her coworker’s mouth. “Alex’s grades improved significantly, as did his scores on standardized tests. But he continued to experience disciplinary issues throughout his time here. I’m not certain I would describe that as thriving.”

  “Could you explain what led to Mr. Foster’s expulsion?” Caitlyn prompted, wanting to get to the crux of the matter and be on her way back to the office before Ash drew any more unnecessary attention to those full, lush lips.

  “It was last fall, at the start of Alex’s senior year,” Ms. Welling said. “He’d been made a co-captain of the varsity boy’s crew team and was putting in a lot of extra practice hours leading up to the Head of the Charles Regatta. During one of these evening practices, Ale
x took issue with the directions Coach Dryden was giving. It was at that time he used an obscene word toward the coach that is a direct violation of the Code of Conduct in the student handbook. The issue was raised with the disciplinary board, and in light of previous infractions, they had no choice but to expel him.”

  “This obscenity the student used,” Ash began. “Was it racially motivated, or perhaps a slur against the coach’s religion, national origin, sexual orientation, or gender identity?”

  Caitlyn instantly recognized the categories Ash had chosen as being protected characteristics under Massachusetts law. If Alex Foster had targeted the coach for any of these reasons, it might constitute a hate crime. This meant two important things. One, Moorehead Academy could potentially countersue the Fosters. And two, Ashley Tanner was one smart cookie.

  Unfortunately, the Head of School shook her head. After consulting her files, she replied, “Coach Dryden reported that Alex told him to, and I quote, go fuck yourself.”

  What sounded like a coughing fit erupted from Caitlyn’s partner, but she knew better. Ash wasn’t choking. She was laughing.

  “I’m so sorry,” Caitlyn said quickly, “but do you have some water? I’m afraid Ms. Tanner must have swallowed wrong or something.”

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.” Ms. Welling jumped up from her desk and darted out the door, shutting it behind her.

  As soon as they were alone, Caitlyn turned to glare at Ash. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Ash squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deeply to regain control. “Sorry. I couldn’t stop it.”

  “My God, woman,” Caitlyn chastised. “Do you really think private schools are so prudish that hearing the Head of School use the F-word is enough to send you into giggles?”

  “It’s not that.” Ash dabbed her eyes with the edge of her suit jacket, somehow managing not to smear her mascara in the process. “After hearing that coach out there this morning screaming every slur in the book, you’re telling me this kid got expelled for a single F-bomb?”

  Caitlyn pressed her lips into a thin line. Ash was right. The double standard was glaringly obvious, and undoubtedly an angle the plaintiff would seek to exploit. If this case ever made it to a jury, that could be bad news. Not that she planned for this to make it as far as a jury. The courts traditionally deferred to schools in educational matters. But it made it all the more important their motion to dismiss be backed up with as much substance as possible.

  Ms. Welling returned with a cup of water, handing it to Ash, who had mostly managed to pull herself together by this time. When the Head of School was back in her seat, Caitlyn pointed to the files on the desk.

  “Do those contain a detailed history of Mr. Foster’s disciplinary infractions during his enrollment at the school?” she asked. If she could build a solid argument as to how the obscenity was just the final straw in a history of infractions, the judge would be that much more likely to dismiss the case.

  “I don’t think so,” Ms. Welling answered, “but I can get a copy sent to you, if it would help.”

  “Yes, it would.” Caitlyn snuck a glance at Ash, grateful the woman was too busy finishing her water to notice. Like her or not—and the jury was still out on that one as far as Caitlyn was concerned—Ash’s keen observation may have saved the firm a great deal of embarrassment.

  That didn’t mean the arrogant attorney deserved to be given the chance to gloat.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ash rolled her neck to the right and then the left. She’d spent all day in her office chair, barely moving. That wasn’t necessarily different from how she spent any other day, but the fact it was Saturday had sparked an uncharacteristic feeling of regret in her chest.

  Maybe it was time to call it a day. There was nothing pressing in her never-ending pile of work, and frankly, her attention was waning.

  There was a popping sound from one of the vertebrae in Ash’s neck, followed by a rush of sweet relief that brought a faint smile to her lips.

  “You seem to be in a good mood.” Caitlyn leaned against the doorjamb, some papers pressed to her chest. The woman’s unexpected appearance shot frissons through Ash’s center, making her feel like a flustered teenager.

  “Looks can be deceiving. However, I’ve been trying for an hour to work out this kink and—” Hoping to cover for any earlier awkwardness, Ash placed one hand on the top of her head and the other on her chin, and gave her neck a twist. “Voilà! I can turn my head again.”

  Caitlyn’s brow furrowed, a look of worry coming over her. “You really should have a chiropractor do that for you.”

  “Spoken like a rich person.”

  Caitlyn laughed, and Ash was glad. She hadn’t meant it as a dig, but Ash knew her sense of humor was an acquired taste, one not many bothered to stick around long enough to develop a liking for.

  “What’s up?” Ash moved her head side to side, inordinately pleased with the result. “Working on the Moorehead motion?”

  “What else? It needs to be filed first thing Monday and I won’t lie. I’m struggling.” Caitlyn held up a stack of papers almost as thick as her hand.

  “Is that your motion to dismiss?” Ash stared agog at what could easily have passed for an unabridged dictionary.

  “No. This is the Moorehead Student Handbook. Although at two hundred and seventeen pages, the motion is nearly as long. But something’s still missing.”

  “Other than brevity?” Ash put up a hand to quell her colleague’s inevitable retort. “Why do you think something’s missing?”

  “Because I’m not sold on my own argument,” Caitlyn admitted with surprising candor. “And if I’m not, a judge certainly shouldn’t be. The trouble is, I’ve gone through the disciplinary records the school provided and compared them to the rules set out in the Student Handbook. While I believe they’ve acted within their rights when it comes to the decision to expel—even if I’m not sure I agree with them—the justification for it is shakier than I’d like.”

  Ash flipped through her mental filing cabinet of case law. “I thought the educational deference doctrine meant the courts were inclined to side with schools when it comes to educational decisions.”

  “Yes, but only when the dismissal is based on academic reasons, such as plagiarism or cheating. According to Judge Wilson’s decision in McAllen v. Harvard, disciplinary dismissals are an exception to educational deference.”

  Ash leaned forward, her earlier desire to quit for the day evaporating. “We need to establish that the disciplinary board followed the guidelines set out in the handbook down to the letter when deciding Mr. Foster’s punishment.”

  “Exactly. And therein lies the problem. Their points system is sufficiently vague that the plaintiff can easily argue the number of demerits assigned for his offense was capricious in nature.” Caitlyn’s flagging energy seemed renewed, matching Ash’s interest in the problem at hand. “I was wondering if maybe I could ask you to give the handbook a look and see if anything jumps out at you to counter that argument.”

  “Sure.” Ash took the handbook from Caitlyn, all thoughts of heading home forgotten.

  “Thanks.” For a moment, it seemed Caitlyn was going to say something, but in the end, she remained silent as she turned to the door.

  “Was there anything else?” Ash wasn’t sure why she was asking, except suddenly the prospect of an empty office with no one to talk to on a Saturday seemed dull.

  “No. I was just going to say, it’s almost like teamwork actually, you know, works.” Caitlyn wiggled her fingers in an awkward wave before beginning the trudge back to her office on the other side of the building.

  A ghost of a smile remained on Ash’s lips as she pulled the student handbook toward her and flipped it open to the first page. A name was scrawled across the top in purple ink. Sadie Brewster. The academic year listed was two years prior. Ash frowned as she turned the page. As far as she could remember, no school she’d ever attended had ever had this many rules.


  After several minutes, Ash found a passage she thought might afford them the way out they needed. This time it was her turn to make the trip all the way down the long hallway, past dozens of darkened offices, to the only other occupied room at the far end. For some reason, it reminded her of one of those old movies where two people sit at opposite ends of a long dining table and keep having to get up to pass the salt. By the time she reached Caitlyn’s office she was chuckling at the image.

  “First a smile and now laughter.” Caitlyn capped her highlighter. “Soon enough, you’ll be skipping with glee.”

  “I just might, considering what I found in the handbook.” Ash placed the heavy tome on Caitlyn’s desk. “Open to the disciplinary system section and read the paragraph under levels of probation.”

  Caitlyn scanned the page, her brow furrowing. “A second probationary offense would incur a disciplinary hearing regardless of probation level. Okay. I’ve read it. What does it mean?”

  “Wasn’t Alex Foster issued a probationary warning for setting a fire in a trash can in the boy’s bathroom?”

  Caitlyn’s frown deepened. “Yes, but that was shortly after he transferred into the school, almost four years before this incident. I could have sworn the handbook said the second probationary offense had to be within three years of the first.”

  “Probably because you were referring to the current online handbook, in which the language surrounding this rule has been modified.”

  Caitlyn put her hands out, palms up. “How does that help us, then? We can’t very well argue a policy that’s no longer in effect.”

  “Because the change was made during Alex Foster’s senior year, but the new handbook wasn’t finalized until two weeks after the altercation with Coach Dryden. It seems unreasonable to apply a new rule retroactively.” Ash flashed a triumphant grin.