I don’t need to see him to picture his acne-scarred face twisted with disgust.
Jade stiffens in her chair but I hold out a hand, signaling her to stand down. She’s made an art form out of ignoring the comments of the assholes who work in this place when they’re directed at her, but she’s more than ready to come to my defense.
I won’t let her get fired because of me, though. I can handle Sunderberg myself.
He’s hated me since our third year of law school when I wrecked the curve in Corporate Finance. As a result, he lost his perfect GPA and his spot as first in our class. I graduated third in the class to his second, but he’s never gotten over it. Or maybe it’s the fact that I turned down his drunken passes at a bar a couple of months before graduation.
I turn to face him. His blond hair is already thinning on top, and I’m guessing he’s going to opt for the comb-over before he’s thirty.
“It’s better than being a wannabe manwhore like you, Kevin.” The burn isn’t as good as I’d like, but I’m off my game today.
“You come in here to get your ass chewed out in person?” His words are laced with loathing. “I would say fired, but we both know they won’t dare. It’s such a fucking joke. Any other associate would be out on her ass for doing what you did, embarrassing the shit out of yourself and the firm. But no, not the untouchable Greer Karas. They wouldn’t dare fire you and risk losing your brother’s business.”
There are several things I truly despise, and one of them is admitting Kevin Sunderberg is right. When I let my rational brain take the lead, I know my fears about getting fired are probably unfounded. Realistically, I am virtually untouchable here. The firm makes millions from the litigation it handles for Karas International. My brother is not a man others want to anger.
“I suggest you worry about yourself and the hours you need to bill today.”
His lip curls like he’s just eaten bad sushi. “You’re a joke, Greer.” He spins on his Prada loafers and heads for the internal staircase.
“And so is his dick.”
Jade’s hushed voice comes from behind me, and I swing around to stare at her, distracted momentarily from Kevin’s harsh words.
“You’ve seen his dick?”
She drops her gaze to the desktop in front of her. “Not my proudest moment. But I was desperate and he had a penis. Arguably.”
A giggle spills from my lips at the comic relief I desperately need at this moment. “Really, Jade? Really?”
Jade’s dimples appear as she fights her own laugh. “Let’s just say the size requirement in your ad was probably the smartest part of the whole debacle.”
My humor dies mid-giggle and I groan, covering my face with my hand. When I look back at her, her expression is sober once more.
“I should get fired today. Kevin’s right.”
Jade shrugs. “Fuck ’em. If they don’t have the balls to fire you, then that’s their problem. Not yours.”
As much as I appreciate her practical attitude, I know it will become my problem. It doesn’t take working in a firm very long to realize lawyers aren’t nearly as confrontational as people expect. Passive-aggressive bullshit will be heaped on me in the form of terrible projects, midnight conference calls with Asia, and deadlines requiring all-nighters.
I always thought I would love my job. I was wrong. So, what is the point of sticking it out if I know what abuse is coming?
I came to the office today to apologize and beg forgiveness, to try to salvage my career, and all it took was Kevin Sunderberg’s venom to make me form a completely different plan.
Jade’s right. Fuck ’em. I’ll find another job, and I won’t go crawling to my brother for one either.
With the knowledge that my self-respect won’t be sacrificed on the altar of Sterling & Michaels today, my spine finds new reinforcement. “Okay. Wish me luck.”
Jade’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows draw together. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing good for my career.”
I lug the box of my personal belongings through the lobby and hand over my badge to security.
“Thanks, Donald.”
“Anytime, Ms. Karas.”
His words are the throwaway kind because we both know there won’t be another time. I’m done with Sterling & Michaels.
My bright, shiny career as an associate came to a crashing halt when I handed Mr. Feinstein the letter of resignation I’d typed in my office thirty minutes ago. His insincere attempt to change my mind was less than impressive, as was his request that I explain to my brother that my decision was neither prompted nor supported by the firm.