Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
The other paralegal looks good. Better than me, for sure: golden hair down and glossy, not a hint of dark circles or lipstick on teeth. Her jacket’s thrifted tweed, but she wears it like it’s custom. She smiles when she sees me, the real kind that splits her whole face, remembering what it’s like to have an actual friend.
“Over here, Marnie!” she calls, standing up to give me a welcome hug.
I hug her back, but I can’t relax. My arms are stiff and my jaw’s got that post-dentist numbness from clenching. When we sit, I clutch my water glass with both hands, not because I’m thirsty, but to hide how bad I’m shaking.
Eliza raises an eyebrow. “You look like you just gave blood and failed the snacks.”
I try to smile, but my face forgets how. “It’s been a weird day.”
She snorts. “Yeah, that’s how the firm can be sometimes,” she says with a sassy smile before leaning in. “If you need to bury a body, Marnie, I’m not great with shovels, but I can drive the getaway car.”
For a second, I want to blurt everything—the plug, the spanking, the fact that my body’s a ticking time bomb—but the words get tangled behind my teeth. I take a huge gulp of water instead, buying time.
Eliza’s blue eyes go soft. “Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right? I know we just met, but it’s okay. I’ve been at Gibson Grant for five years, and know how difficult it can be to work there.”
I shoot her a rueful look.
“Even though I only just started at the firm?”
She nods, eyes widening.
“Especially since you just started. Spill, girl. What’s on your mind?”
I take a deep breath before shooting her a look.
“Well, I’m not just here for a job.”
She blinks. “Okaaaay. So you’re here for the experience? The money? Because as paralegals, we don’t make much.”
I shake my head.
“No, I mean yes. I’m not just here to pay off my loans. I’m investigating something. About my family.”
A long pause. “The Williams thing?” she asks, cautious.
I jerk back. “Wait, you know?”
Eliza shrugs.
“The Stanley Williams case was the biggest thing at the firm a couple years back. I remember working dawn to dusk for months on that case, and Marnie … you look just like him.”
I swallow hard, staring at my clasped fists.
“My dad. Yeah, I’m Stanley’s daughter.” The air goes hollow, like the room just got vacuumed clean.
Eliza sets her drink down with trembling fingers. “Shit, Marnie. I’m sorry about the loss of your dad. We all think he should have been spared the death penalty. That’s why we worked so hard.”
I swallow, staring down at the table.
“No, it’s okay. I don’t talk it about it a lot, and thank you for your dedication. I know everyone at Gibson Grant slaved away, trying to save his life.”
My new friend takes another sip of her drink. “So do you want to talk about it? I assume that’s why we’re here, right?”
I stare out the window, watching rain bead down the glass in streaks. “Yes, and no. Sometimes, it’s easier not to discuss the execution. When people find out, they treat me like a bomb or a sob story. I didn’t want you to treat me any different.”
The pretty brunette reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Never. That’s not—” she cuts herself off, voice thickening. “You think I’d give a shit if you were the daughter of Godzilla?”
I look up, blinking fast to clear the burn from my eyes. “I just… I needed someone to know. Because I’m in too deep, even though I just started here, and I can’t tell if I’m losing my mind or if I’m actually onto something.”
The other paralegal sits back, crossing her arms. “Okay, but what do you mean? Why would you lose your mind now? Is there something new?”
I lower my voice while nodding. “The trial. I think there was a cover-up. Evidence, missing or faked. Brent and James—they were my dad’s lawyers, and now I work for them. I’m trying to get to the truth.”
Eliza whistles. “Jesus, Marnie.”
“I found files,” I say, softer. “Stuff that doesn’t match the public record. I got caught with them yesterday by Brent Gibson himself.”
Eliza’s silent, chewing her lip. “Did he fire you?”
“No. He threatened me. Then told me to be honest. Then… he, well, did something else.”
Eliza’s eyes go wide, her cheeks flushing. “Oh my god. He fucked you, didn’t he? OMG, OMG!”
I feel my cheeks go molten. “Not exactly, but it was intense.”
She gives me a look—half amused, half rueful. “So it wasn’t sex?”
I shrug, sheepish. “Sort of. We didn’t get to home base, but he did something else. And I went along with it because what am I supposed to do? He’s huge. And intense. And hot.”
Now my new friend leans in, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you’re sleeping with the enemy, you need a plan, girlfriend. Like, a safe word or a dead man’s switch. Have you told anyone else at the firm yet?”