In Your Corner
Page 7

 Sarah Castille

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“That’s crazy.” I feign nonchalance, dropping my shoulders and resting my hands lightly on the armrests. “There’s nothing in my personal life that should raise any professional or moral concerns about my ability to fulfill my duties as an attorney in this firm. I’ve never let my personal life impact on my work.”
He leans over and squeezes my shoulder and I have to fight back the urge to flinch.
“I know becoming a partner means everything to you, and especially to your father. It’s all he’s talked about for years. He’s so pleased you followed in the family footsteps. You’ll make him so proud.” He pauses and affects the sad smile of a poor method actor. “Or…you would have.”
Clearly Farnsworth isn’t satisfied with stabbing me in the heart with his file of Amanda’s sordid activities. He wants to twist the knife. Twist and twist and twist. What does he hope to achieve? Does he think I’m going to break into tears? Does he think I’ll beg for mercy? Does he really think I’m going to give him what he wants?
“Is that all, sir?” I make the mistake of standing. Unfortunately, I am now face to face with Farnsworth, our bodies only inches apart. He smells of cheap Bordeaux, Greek cigars, and the $9.95 Shrimp Special the cafeteria offered for dinner. My nose wrinkles. I hate shrimp.
“No, Amanda. That isn’t all.” His voice lowers to a seductive purr and he twirls a strand of my hair around his fingers. “It would be a shame for all that talent to go to waste.” He strokes a thick finger along my cheek and a violent shudder wracks my body.
“Hands off.” I slap his hand away and his eyes narrow.
“You’re a clever girl, Amanda. I don’t think I need to spell it out for you. I have something you want, and you have something I want. We can both achieve our goals and enjoy ourselves while we do.”
“Not a chance.”
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “I may be twice your age, but I know how to please a woman. And I know for a fact you know how to please a man. We could have something special together. Something…”
Taking a deep breath, I sidestep around the chair. “I’m not playing this game.”
His cold smile chills my blood. “I have an entire file that says you do play this game. You play this game with strangers. You play this game with doctors. And right now, you’re going to play this game with me. Can you imagine what your father would say if he saw that file? His abject and bitter disappointment? I don’t know what would be worse for him—finding out his daughter is the biggest slut in San Francisco or knowing she’ll never make partner in any law firm in the state.”
In response to my quizzical look, he laughs. “You’re forgetting who I am. I know every judge in every court in California. I know every partner in every major firm. I can blackball you with one phone call. If you turn down my offer, you’ll never work in another Big Law firm in California again. It’ll be back alleys and legal aid clinics for you.”
As if that is such a bad thing.
My hands clench into fists and my lip curls. “Bastard. I’m going to drag you through the courts in the biggest sexual harassment lawsuit the state has ever seen.”
Farnsworth’s eyes glitter and he laughs. “I’m a bastard and you’re a slut. So what? No one’s going to believe you. If you file a lawsuit, I’ll argue that you propositioned me because you were so desperate for partnership you would do anything to get it.”
I stare at him aghast. “Why would anyone think I was that desperate? I’m one of the best associates in the firm. You said so yourself. Why would people think I would throw it all way?”
Farnsworth shrugs. “Who knows? Lack of self-confidence? Self-destructive tendencies? It doesn’t matter. I’ve already laid the groundwork in the event you refuse. You should know by now every case is won before it even begins.”
My lungs tighten. Outfoxed and outmaneuvered. He’s clearly been planning this for a long time, waiting for the perfect opportunity. And I just gave it to him.
A whiff of Bordeaux breath assails my nostrils, and I fight the nausea roiling in my gut. I am NOT going to puke on the navy blue, Farnsworth & Tillman embossed carpet.
“And even if you were foolish enough to pursue a lawsuit,” he continues, “how will you fund it without a job? I have an entire law firm at my disposal. I can have hundreds of associates working twenty-four hours a day to destroy you before you can file your complaint.”
“Go. To. Hell.” I take a step back and then another. Seemingly unperturbed, Farnsworth slides off his desk and drops his hand to his belt.
“I’m sure I will one day. But I plan to make the most of my time before I do. And so should you. Look what you have to gain. I can brush that file under the carpet. I can make sure your father and none of the other partners ever see it. And I can talk to the right people and ensure you make it through the partnership selection process. All I want is a taste of that honey you’ve been spreading around.”
My nose crinkles in disgust and I back right up to the door. I might have lost everything, but I haven’t lost my self-esteem. His choice is no choice at all.
“I don’t do blackmail,” I snap. “You want to send that file around, then send it and I’ll deal with the fallout. But there is no way on this earth you’re getting anything from me.”
Greed and lust flicker in his eyes. And anger. A lot of anger. Just like Evil Reid, Farnsworth won’t take no for an answer.