Fighting Attraction
Page 71

    Ray gives an approving nod. “You don’t need clients like him. The guy’s a fucking piece of shit. Word on the street is that he’s involved in some nasty stuff.”
    Amanda lifts an eyebrow. “Language, Ray. This is a professional office.”
    “Pardon me.” His voice drips with amused sarcasm. “He’s a fucking piece of scum.”
    “Can we…” I shuffle the papers in front of me. “Can we tell people at the club now…warn them that he might have cameras?”
    “I’m sorry, but no.” Amanda’s face creases in sympathy. “What he said to us in confidence remains in confidence even after our client agreement is terminated and even if the client is…” She looks over at Ray and laughs. “Not the kind of client we want to have. We just need to focus now on finding some good, honest, paying clients.”
    I stare down at my notepad where I’ve doodled variations of Amanda’s law firm name, some modern, some retro, some traditional, and a few eclectic to match her taste for country chic. She’s a great lawyer, and she should she be attracting top-notch clients to balance out all the pro bono work she does. All these years I’ve kept quiet, just gone with the flow, afraid to step out of my comfort zone in case something tipped me back into darkness. But I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone again and again since the night I went to Club Sin. I’ve tried new things. I’ve been brave. I’ve been strong. I opened myself up to new possibilities. I even found someone who accepted me for who I was, even if I wasn’t enough for him. My heart aches for Jack, but he’s helped me see a future where I don’t need to self-harm anymore, where I can find another way to ease my pain, where I don’t have to hide who I am.
    “You could rebrand,” I suggest. “Something more appealing to the kind of clientele you are targeting. Then we could do a big marketing campaign to get the brand out there—ads, flyers, and sponsorships. That kind of thing.”
    Everyone stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, and I instantly regret speaking up. “Or not,” I say quietly. “It was just a suggestion.”
    “It’s a great suggestion.” Amanda smiles. “Do you have any ideas?”
    “I have a few design ideas.” I push the pad across the table. “I was trying out different things. I know you’re interested in doing more work with charities and the arts community, so I thought something a bit more artsy and fitting more with your love of country chic.”
    “I’m not giving up my couch for some pink chintz shit,” Ray says. “Men don’t like pink.”
    “Good to know you’re in touch with your inner caveman,” I quip.
    Ray raises an eyebrow, but his fierce expression makes me laugh. I know he’s just a pussycat inside.
    “I love these.” Amanda taps two of my designs. “They’re perfect. Why didn’t I know you were a marketing genius?”
    “It’s just something I do for fun. My mom was big into PR and marketing. She ran her own design company, and on the rare occasion she was home she used to let me sit in her office and tell me all about what she was doing and why.” I lived for those moments because it was the only way I could spend time with her, the only attention I got.
    Amanda pushes my paper across the table to Jill. “Look at the ones I’ve circled. They’re perfect for the firm. Why don’t we set up a marketing strategy meeting later this week and Penny can tell us some more about her ideas?”
    We chat about the designs for a few more minutes. Jill and Dana head back to their offices, and I hand Amanda a few documents for signatures.
    “Don’t I get to see the designs?” Ray folds his arms and huffs.
    “Technically, you’re not part of the firm,” Amanda says. “You’re an independent contractor. Also, since you don’t like pink chintz shit, I hardly think you’ll be able to give us an honest opinion.”
    “Sia doesn’t let him swear at home,” I say helpfully. “You shouldn’t let him indulge at the office. Maybe he should stand outside for five minutes and think about his behavior.”
    “Good idea.” Amanda smiles. “He can get it all out before he goes home to babysit. Shayla, Sia, and I are taking Makayla to Death’s Dungeon for some pre-baby fun. Penny, you and Cora are invited since you’re connected to the Redemption team.”
    “What the fuck?” Ray shoots out of his seat. “Sia’s not going to Death’s fucking Dungeon. That’s a death metal bar. It’s almost all men. Lowlifes who can’t get their own women.”
    “I think she has a different view on that matter,” Amanda says, her lips quivering with a smile. “And you get to spend some quality time at home with Sam. She gets a girls’ night out and you get a guys’ night in.”
    “Christ,” Ray mutters. “A man can’t even relax in his own place of work, and now I won’t be able to relax at home ’cause Sia’s gonna be out with no protection.” His eyes narrow. “Does Renegade know about this? How about Torment? Or Rampage? Or Blade Saw?”
    He must be agitated since he’s using ring names and we’re not even in the gym, but Amanda just laughs. “Of course not. And you’re not going to tell them, or you’ll find yourself out of a job.”
    “Isn’t that illegal?” Ray’s frown becomes a scowl. “I should report you for threats and violations of employment standards.”
    “People in glass houses…” She lifts an eyebrow, and Ray’s lips press together. Amanda knows what Ray did to Vetch Retch, not that she would ever tell anyone, but sometimes she likes to pull that little nugget out to keep him in line.
    “Can I tell one person?” He gives me a pointed stare. “Jack would want to know where his girl’s at.”