Page 128 of At His Beck & Call

“And you’ve been sleeping with her for the majority of that time, correct?”

I go still, staring at Tom in abject shock. It’s not even that he knows about me sleeping with Lissa that astounds me, but that he’s weaponizing it against me in this room, when I know for a fact he has had affairs with not one butseveralof his junior associates over the years. One of them was twenty years younger than him.

“Is that relevant?” I ask, and the scoff comes again. This time, I can see it is Miles De-Vere, the biggest man-whore I’ve ever met.

“Other than the fact that it’s an ethics violation, you mean?” Tom asks.

I can’t help but chuckle at that and I’m met with seven stoic, furious glares in return.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

If we were going by the rulebook, every single man sitting in front of me has committed an ethics violation at some point.

The number of cases they have taken on because a buddy needed their help, or their nanny was going to be deported, or their wife pissed off the wrong member of the country club. And they have the gall to sit there and tell me I’ve violated the firm’sethics code for half a day’s work to save a single mother from an abusive ex.

The fuckers.

By the expressions on the faces of the men surrounding me, I can tell that they’re expecting me to apologize. They were probably imagining a groveling scene where I begged them for forgiveness, promised to do better, and publicly flogged myself for my terrible decisions.

Well, fuck that.

I have worked my ass off for this place for nearly fifteen years. I’ve brought in millions of dollars in revenue and three of the largest clients on their books.

I’ve spent nights and days toiling over files, picking up cases from others who have young children, covering for the men in this room, and for what? For my seat to go to some spineless piece of shit I could run circles around.

“You’ll be under review for the next two weeks, during which we will analyze the extent of your actions,” Tom says smugly. “I would keep that in mind and focus on the work that the firm has assigned you, Oliver.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I say decisively, keeping my voice low and level. I’m not going to give this shithead the satisfaction of hearing me raise my voice.

“I’m sorry?” he asks, looking up at me, confused.

They’re arrogant enough not to have seen this coming. In the absence of self-flagellation, they’ll expect me to storm out or maybe threaten them with a lawsuit of my own. They won’t expect what’s coming.

“I resign,” I say firmly, and it’s satisfying to see seven faces go from smug superiority to alarm in the space of five seconds. Tom splutters indignantly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Oliver, that’s not?—”

“No. I’m not being ridiculous, Tom. I resign. Now that I sit here, in this little boy’s club you’ve built for yourselves, I don’t know why I didn’t do it before. Good luck with Sutcliffe. I imagine he’ll be a catastrophic drain on your precious profits, entertaining clients while doing no work whatsoever.”

Tom’s eyes are wide as I rise, his chin wobbling in outrage as he tries to come up with a suitable retort. It’s the closest to panic I’ve ever seen from him.

“You’ll be working your notice,” he manages, but his voice is hoarse.

“Of course. I would never leave you in a lurch like that. Good day, gentlemen.”

Chapter 45

Lissa

Iopen my apartment door to a popping champagne cork, which ricochets off the ceiling as Bethany squeals at the top of her lungs, a wide grin on her face.

“Beth!” I say, laughing despite myself as champagne spouts out of the top and all over the hallway carpet. “I have to get my deposit back.”

“Fuck that!” she says loudly. “This shithole will probably keep it anyway!”

She’s grinning from ear to ear, her excitement contagious as she walks inside, sky-high heels, a tight, dark red dress, and her beautiful hair flowing down her back.

I close the door as Henry comes out of the bedroom to look at Bethany, a little frown on his face.