The Secret (Boston's Best 1)

Chapter Forty

Matt

Oscar fucking Rooney, you are the biggest pain in my ass.

You are wasting my perfectly good Saturday by coming all the way to Downtown Boston –it's only like a ten minute drive, just so that you can talk a load of bullshit about some property my parents owned.

Like I don't really care this much about a fucking house and storage facility. I don't get the big deal about it all.

Oscar works for Brown, LLC. so he was his boss's lawyer. Which is slightly odd but I suppose my parents just wanted to hire someone that they trusted, and the only reason I'm even bothering to show uip is because they trusted him which means I should too.

The Brown, LLC. Boston office is hu-fucking-mongous. And I'm not even exaggerating.

It's just over fifty thousand square feet and fifty-three floors I think.

The exterior is just stone brick and lots of greenery –my mothers idea, and the interior follows the theme of black and white basically everything –my fathers idea, and not one office looks the same, every single one of them brings 'a unique touch to the place and it helps the person working there make it feel like it's theirs' –both of my parents idea.

There are offices almost identical to it all over the world. In New York City, Chicago, Los Angeles, San Diego, Seattle, Raleigh, Austin, D.C, Toronto, Québec, Vancouver, Bogotá, Salvador, Dublin, London, Edinburgh, Cardiff, Paris, Madrid, Oslo, Warsaw, , Vienna, Rome, Lisbon, Riga, Casablanca, Cape Town, Mumbai, ShangHai, Bangkok, Sydney, Perth, and Dubai.

I've never understood their need to have as many offices as they possibly could. To me it seemed like a pissing contest with their competitors.

But my mom once said, "If I won't help as many people as I possibly can, then I don't deserve to do my job. I wouldn't be worthy of it.".

She always had the biggest heart. No matter what anyone did she would stop and help them, that's just the type of person she was.

I suppose them continuing to win case after case and roll in all the big bucks helped them open up more offices, and soon enough they were the richest criminal defence lawyers in the world and they owned and managed a firm at the same time.

They were absolutely insane. I don't know how they never got burnout from it, because they were both always working. I guess they just lived on the adrenaline of it all though.

When I finally reach the fifty-second floor where Oscar Ronney's office is I immediately want to leave.

The second the elevator doors open every eye of the floor falls upon my face. I can practically hear them all sizing me up with their eyes, wondering what I'm doing here, why this is the first time I've been to the over in over six months, wondering if this eighteen year old man-child is going to be their bosses' bosses' boss.

I want to curl up in a ball and die right there but I don't. I walk past them all with my head held high giving the people I recognise a quick nod and soon enough I've made it to Oscar's office.

The fifty-third floor was always just reserved for my parents. Only their offices, a kitchen, and a small room that was for me to use to do my homework whenever I came over after school, which I used to do a lot –coming over here not doing my homework.

"Matthew," Oscar stands as he sees me standing in his doorway, "Please come in. Sit down."

I shake his hand and sit on the plush chair in front of his desk. "Yes, hi."

"Do you want small talk or straight to business?" He asks.

"Straight to it, please."

Oscar takes a deep breath and says, "Matthew, I'm afraid I've asked you here under false pretences."