Chapter 7
“What?” I frowned, thrown by her late-night call out of the blue.
Effie paused. “Remember that case from the day you quit? The one about the guy avenging his mother?”
The pieces fell into place.
Kevin had swooped in on that high-profile case, taking it himself after I passed, but his lackluster skills and by-the-book approach backfired spectacularly.
The defense was a disaster. The kid got convicted, and Kevin got scolded.
Clips of the trial went viral, sparking outrage. People tore into Kevin for being heartless, accusing him of chasing cash over justice.
The firm’s social media was flooded with criticism, while the kid filed for an appeal, gearing up for a second trial.
Effie, desperate to salvage the firm’s reputation, had apparently shopped the case around to other lawyers, but no one would
touch the toxic mess.
In the end, she turned to me.
“The public backlash is out of control. PR can’t contain it,” she added, a hint of her old self-assurance creeping in. “Here is the deal. Come back to the firm, and we’ll wipe the slate clean on everything that happened.”
She sounded like she was tossing me a lifeline I should be grateful for.
“No thanks,” I refused flatly, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Even now, she thought her offer was some golden ticket. Truth was, I didn’t give a damn about her firm or her salary packages
anymore.
“Think carefully,” she pressed, her voice tightening. “I’ve already put the word out to every top firm in town. No one is gonna hire you unless you’re ready to pack up and start over in a new city. You sure you want to torch all the connections and clout you’ve built here? Don’t throw away your career over this.”
I couldn’t help but smirk at her audacity. “Oh, really? You sure you’ve got everyone locked down? Then what’s this contract I signed with Henry a few days ago?”
I glanced at the document on my desk, chuckling as I pictured her reaction.
“Henry? Who?” She sounded thrown, like the name didn’t register.
“Henry Walsh,” I replied, dropping the name that echoed through the city’s legal circles.
His firm was way bigger than Effie’s.
“What?” Her voice cracked, disbelief spilling over as she realized I’d already landed a new job,
I concluded, “I’m not helping you. Find someone else to clean up your mess. Your firm’s got nothing to do with me anymore, and neither do you. Stop calling.”
Life settled into a calm groove. My start date with Henry’s firm crept closer, and I dove into my new routine with a clear head.
On the day I showed up to finalize my onboarding in Henry’s office, Effie was there, too.
1/2
Florence is a passionate reader who finds joy in long drives on rainy days. She’s also a fan of Italian makeup tutorials, blending beauty and elegance into her everyday life.
