I barely caught a glimpse of dark hair and some broad shoulders as I walked by. Too obvious to walk back by and take another look?

Probably. It was a law firm after all. Must always be circumspect. Too bad being lawyerly and dignified wasn't my best attribute. Probably a good thing I wasn't actually a lawyer, huh? Much to my parent's dismay.

But hey, I was twenty-four. Hardly had to be living out my parents' dreams now, did I? Especially since I'd promised myself that I'd be living my own dreams by the time I was twenty-five, which left me less than two months to figure it out and accomplish it. At least I'd finally broken up with Max. That was a start.

"Morning, Isabel." I nodded at my secretary as I walked by, then stopped and retraced my steps. Isabel would know. "Who's my next door neighbor? Office was empty when I left on Friday."

Isabel looked a little frazzled, even for a Monday morning at seven-thirty. "Blaine Hampton. New partner they hired from outside."

"Partner?" He'd looked way young to be a partner. "Already?"

"Comes from money," she whispered. "Lots of connections.

Ah, excellent. Just my parents' type. Perhaps I should cozy up to him and make him my new boyfriend. Wouldn't that do a lot to get me back in the McCormick family good graces? Hadn't been there since I dumped my ex, who they all thought was my ticket to respectability. "Bad news," Isabel continued. "Your event on Friday night? Cancelled. Place had a fire on Saturday night."

"Cancelled?" I felt my heart start to do weird little palpitations, as it always did when I felt an encounter with the firm's managing partner coming on. "I don't have an event for Friday?" The culmination of the first week of the summer interns. Always a huge event. Cancelled? Visions of tearing out my hair and racing through the halls screaming and hurling things at random people popped into my head, but I immediately dismissed the idea as dangerously close to that "unbecoming behavior" standard the firm was always using to justify firing people. It was a nice, vague term, infinitely useful for tweaking to fit any situation the firm didn't think was up to par. Seeing as how I was but a lowly social director, I didn't bring enough value to the firm to be able to get away with any unbecoming behavior.

So instead of freaking out, I smiled and said, "Can you make some calls and see if you can find another venue?" Excellent, Shannon. Way to keep your voice calm. See? I could be a lawyer. Totally able to handle stress.

"Ahem."

Ahem? Who 'ahems'? I turned around to find potential-new-boyfriend himself standing behind me. Early thirties at most. Kick ass blue eyes. And to think I complained regularly about working in a law firm. I took it all back. "I'm Shannon McCormick. Your next door neighbor."

He looked at me blankly. Okay, so he was a literal guy. He'd never get my oh-so-witty sense of humor. So, I pointed to my office. "My office is next to yours."

"Oh. I'm Blaine Hampton."

"Nice to meet you." When I shook his hand, I actually felt my stomach do this little somersault. Blaine was totally hot. Terrible name, but very hot guy.

"Isabel is your secretary?" he asked.

"Yep."

"How much of her time do you usually take?"

Didn't like the attitude behind that question. Defenses: armed. "As much as I need."

Smokin'-hot-next-door-neighbor pursed his magnificent lips. "Well, I have a big deal I'm working on this week that will require pretty much all of her time. Can you try to limit your use of her?"

My mouth gaped open before I could stop it. "What?"

"My deal. I need Isabel."

I glanced at Isabel, who shrugged apologetically. "You two are my split."

Blaine turned to go back in his office, not even waiting for answer. Yeah, right. Just because I didn't have a law school degree on my office wall didn't mean I was some unworthy pond scum. "Excuse me? Blaine?"

He paused in his doorway. "Yes?"

"I have a lot going on this week. I run the intern program, and they arrive in a half-hour. My event for Friday night got cancelled, and I need Isabel's help to make all the arrangements for everything else this week. It's not like I can just not have these things done." My parents might think lawyers were better than social directors, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let some partner walk all over me, even if he was drool-worthy.

He lifted an eyebrow. "You're welcome to take it up with Otto, but somehow I think he'll opine that a six billion dollar merger is more important than your interns' lunch plans. That's why I have you as my split. Because my work can take precedence."

Was he kidding? The pretentious-beast-who-was-no-longer-a-boyfriend-candidate wanted me to take it up with Otto Nelson? The managing partner. Seventy-three, totally old school, believed it was a lawyer's prerogative to be an ass to every single person who worked with him, from junior partners all the way down to secretaries.

He scared the crap out of everyone. Including me. Oh, except, apparently Blaine, who had somehow gotten Otto his side. With Otto in his corner, Blaine could indulge in all the unbecoming behavior he wanted and he'd never be held accountable. Jerk.

Blaine flashed me a dimpled smile that would have brought me to my knees if I didn't want to grab him by the neck and throw him out the window. Then he shut the door in my face.

I closed my eyes and pictured his head a punching bag. Did a few quick jabs, then slammed my foot into it. Hah. Not smiling so much are you now, Blaine?

"Shannon?"

Right. Standing there still facing a closed door with my eyes scrunched shut probably wasn't quite the professional and together look I usually strove for. I turned back to Isabel. "Okay, so can you help me find a place for Friday?"

She gave me an apologetic smile that sent waves of terror thudding through my body. "I'll try to find some time, I promise. Otto introduced him and told me his work took priority. You know I want to do your stuff, but..."

But Otto's a bastard who would think nothing of carving you up into little pieces and you don't want to risk that kind of a miserable death by arranging for my event on Friday night. Totally understandable. I gritted my teeth and smiled. It wasn't Isabel's fault. "No problem. Just keep me posted on what you can do."

Isabel shot me a grateful smile, picked up a file that wasn't mine and walked into Blaine's office.

Excellent.

Perhaps if I became some ornery bitch, then people would be afraid to piss me off, and then I might actually get some respect around here.

Yeah, right, the only way I could get away with being a bitch is if I had a J.D. and brought in buckets of money, neither of which applied in my particular case. Besides, my job was about being fun and nice and approachable and beloved. Keep those interns well fed and pampered, and make sure their stories about their summer outshone the stories of all their classmates who interned somewhere else.

That was my job.

A professional entertainer. Swallow your pride. Keep everyone fat and happy, and you may survive to see another summer.

Not that I was bitter. Or insecure. Or had self esteem issues. Never. I didn't have time for such ridiculous emotions. I had twenty-seven minutes to make sure the breakfast buffet was set up and the interns all had their name badges.

I dropped my briefcase on the floor of my office, glanced at the note from Isabel that Friday night's event was a bust, deleted three voice mails from my ex, tried not to wish I could crawl under my desk and hide, smoothed my bun, straightened my suit and marched into the hall to put on the Shannon Show.

Some days I really loved my job.

top