Damaged Read Free Page B

brushed powder over her nose. Her face looked tired. More tired than a thirty-one-year-old should look. It was thanks to Alaska. That damned dog had taken over her heart in less than a week…and was waiting for her at home. Guilt ate at her. She snapped her compact closed and pushed down the guilt. She was still on probation. She couldn’t turn down a partner, no matter it was Friday and Alaska hadn’t been out for hours. When her probationary period finished and she was hired at LMB she would be able to ask if this could wait until Monday. But not yet.
    She strode down the long hallway packed tightly with cubicles on the inner wall and spacious offices on the outer wall, relieved to see that Rebecca Manning had already gone home. “People are saying that John Lyons only hired you so he could screw you,” Rebecca had told her three weeks ago in the ladies’ room. Kate had ignored her gossip, chalking it up to the disgruntlement the herd feels when the ranks are stirred up. But every time she got another family law file, Rebecca’s words played in her head a little louder. Maybe she was getting those files because Randall believed John had hired her for purely personal reasons. And that would really get under Randall’s skin, if there was any truth to the rumors about the way his own marriage had ended.
    She straightened. She hadn’t worked her tail off to be dragged down by two men who had no claim to her. To be found lacking because of her own inabilities was one thing; to be judged unworthy because of Randall Barrett’s grudges against Ethan Drake and John Lyons was another. She’d show Randall that she was deserving of her position. Better yet, she’d make him glad she was at LMB.
    She jogged up the stairs separating the associates’ floor from the partners’, her determination renewed and her anticipation rising. John Lyons’ door was partly open. Kate knocked lightly. He cleared his throat, then called, “Come in.”
    His corner office was meant to impress, and it did. Ceiling-to-floor windows boasted an arresting view of the Halifax Harbour. The water was a dark, fathomless pool under the heavy sky. Two Queen Anne chairs sat on a Persian rug in front of a massive mahogany desk. It was a fitting accessory for LMB’s senior civil litigation partner. He sat behind its broad expanse, his pale blue shirt immaculately crisp despite the lateness of the day. A plum-and-pewter-striped tie shimmered with subtle richness against his shirtfront. Kate was once again struck by John’s gleaming head of silvery hair. Not too many men in their fifties could boast that. It had just the right amount of wave to brush smoothly off his high, academic forehead.
    She darted a glance at the open folder on John’s desk. One of the documents had a pale blue triangle stapled to the corner. A sure sign that a civil action had been started. Her skin tingled.
    “Hi, Kate,” John said, rising to his feet with his habitual courtliness. He waved a hand toward one of the chairs. “Please sit down.”
    “Thanks.” She flashed him a smile.
    He waited until she lowered herself in the chair, and resumed his seat. “So, how are things going for you? We haven’t touched base for a while.” John leaned back in his leather chair, his gray gaze solicitous.
    She crossed her legs. “Randall’s keeping me busy.”
    John nodded. “Has he given you some interesting files?”
    She shrugged. “If you like family law.” She wasn’t going to pretend with him. She just hoped he couldn’t seehow the mention of Randall Barrett’s name made her stomach tighten. The Maalox churned.
    He gave her an assessing look. “I know it’s not your cup of tea, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t really care for to get ahead.”
    She searched his face. Did he realize how patronizing he sounded? He obviously had no clue about all the crummy minimum-wage jobs she’d done to get through university. “I couldn’t agree more. But I thought we had