Everything

XVIII

"I'm not going and you can't make me!"

Launching a pillow at a bewildered Spencer, I shoved myself underneath the covers again. There was no way I was leaving this apartment, this bed. Not for hell or high water. Mr. Moneybags-Haywood could throw his whole fortune and estate at me and it wouldn't persuade me to leave my cocoon.

I had to admit, my resolve had almost broken when I'd seen him in the black Armani suit. It was my weakness, something I'd explained to him before. The sneaky b*stard had probably put it on to convince me to get up.

He'd started his attempts to persuade me an hour ago, when he'd swaggered back from the shower with a towel around his waist. Positive promises of endless making out, cocktails and good food, coupled with the equally negative tickling, withdrawal of hugs and the threat of calling my abuela to give me one of her long lectures about life, had all been bandied around.

But I wouldn't budge.

Today was the day of reckoning.

Today was the day of the partner decision.

For the last week, I'd tried to put it out of my mind. Forget it and move on with the cases I was actually permitted to tackle. But it was always there, a little annoying thought in the back of my head, resurfacing faster than you could say 'anxiety attack'.

With a new partner around, potentially one of my own colleagues, it wouldn't be too soon before they had me carrying a box of my things out of the building.

I was a ticking time bomb.

The thought of being anywhere else but Boone and Webster saddened me greatly. I'd made the best achievements of my life in that firm. I'd done things I never thought I would be able to do. And I'd established myself as a woman, and a person of color in a man's world. If I did say so myself, I deserved a pat on the back.

But to think that a stupid call I'd made when I was twenty-two, without my own knowledge, had cost me my career? It broke my heart.

I'd received a blanket e-mail last night from Mr. Boone and Mr. Webster. They informed the entire firm that they had finalized the partner decision, and would be announcing the end result by close of play the next evening. That gave me just under 24 hours to adjust myself to the fact that someone else's name would be on the door by Monday.

So, when Spencer tried to coax me out of bed and into work today, the only answer could be no.

"Adri, baby, it's Friday," Spencer said, leaning over the bed again and pulling the covers away from my face, "You only have to do this for one day. You only have to smile for one day. And then you can come home and we can be together again. Just one day, baby. That's all."

"I'm not going!" I exclaimed again, trying to shift away from him. But his hand closed around my arm, holding me in a firm grip.

"Don't get me wrong. I know how you feel about this and I know it's going to be difficult. But they'll want you there, Adri. It's a united front for the firm that they can't do without. You're convinced you're going to get fired. Don't show up today and that's probably more likely."

Tears welled in my eyes, despite myself. I'd promised I wouldn't cry over this. After all, I hadn't even been passionate about applying for partner in the first place. But the small part of myself that I'd been trying to suppress knew that this was a dream I never believed could be possible. And losing that? It already hurt.

"Oh, sweetheart, come here," Spencer cooed, pulling me gently into his arms and stroking my hair. He smelt so good. He smelt like home, "It's going to be okay. You know that, right? You're strong and determined and you know what you want. It hurts now, but it's all going to be okay in the long-run. I prayed on it. Everything will work out for the best."