Page 45 of Take What Hurts

“Han—”

“No, Elliott. You told me this file was important to you. That you wanted to finish it out. Properly.” She paused, her hard stare inciting a sweat in the palms of Elliott’s hands. “This isn’t that.”

Elliott pursed her lips, Hannah’s words muddying the waters that had been so clear and fresh in Elliott’s mind only minutes ago. What Hannah was saying wasn’t wrong. She had said that to Hannah. Had wanted to finish the file. Do a good job. Let the success prop up her confidence and feeling of self-worth in her job. But that’s all it would have been. A propping up. A flimsy cardboard structure that would collapse with the slightest breath of wind in the form of another matter that didn’t go so well. Or another missed deadline that she’d forgotten about. Or another filing deadline that kept her working until all hours of the morning. It crystallized then. How she could explain it to Hannah in a way that would make her understand.

“I did say that. You’re right.” She huffed out a breath and brought her eyes to Hannah’s, which glinted like emeralds in the sunshine reflecting into the office off the windows of the building across the street. “It was important. But continuing for those same reasons is a sacrifice I can’t afford.” She frowned, the thoughts ordering themselves in the brief silence. “And not just because of Mackenzie. Finishing that file for those reasons—” She shrugged. “It’d be this artificial thing that might prop me up for a while, but it wouldn’t last. I think I have to find a different way to feel confident in what I’m doing with my career—like, get that from within rather than using some external thing. I don’t know what that looks like yet, and maybe this job really is just not a good fit; I don’t know.” Hannah opened her mouth to speak, but Elliott pushed on, urgent to get the rest of it out into the ether. “But I do know I can’t sacrifice the things that present themselves as being important for the sake of pursuing a crutch.” Hannah softened, and Elliott went with the momentum. “I need to start making decisions based on what I know is going to make me happy rather than just shooting blind.”

Hannah’s shoulders had almost lost all the rigidity they’d held moments before, and Elliott waited. “And Mackenzie… she”—Hannah sighed—“she is something that’s going to make you happy?”

Elliott shrugged. “All roads lead to yes.”

“And if the roads start deviating from that?”

Elliott’s stomach twisted with the mere thought. “Then at least I can say I tried.”

For a beat the only sound in the office was the laptop humming softly on the desk. Elliott held her breath. She knew she didn’t need Hannah’s permission. She didn’t even need Hannah to approve. But god, would it be helpful if someone—anyone—could give her a sign that she wasn’t making a huge fucking mistake. Finally, after another beat, Hannah’s arms flopped into her lap and her mouth pulled itself into a broad grin. “Oh my god,” she whisper shouted across the desk, “you do have a personal conflict of interest.” She said it like it was Christmas and she’d received the present she’d been waiting for her whole life. “It’s about damn time. How can I help?”

Elliott was in the middle of an email to a client explaining why she categorically could not take her children to Fiji without obtaining the consent of her ex when Mattias appeared in her doorway.

“Good morning, my little protégé!” Mattias’s booming voice carried itself around the office without any effort whatsoever, and in his practice, it meant that he was an extremely effective and popular advocate in court. His client list had been full since Elliott had started at the firm three years ago. Normally she would welcome the sight of him to spend ten minutes shooting the shit, but today, her stomach lurched uncomfortably. Because not all that long ago she had vowed not to disappoint him, and now she was going to. She was going to quit the matter he had assigned her. That he’d trusted her with. And then there was the other thing. He’d asked her to come to him early. Had she waited too long? Had she broken that vow weeks ago without even realizing it? Was she about to confess serious wrongdoing to this person who had supported her and advocated for her even when others hadn’t?

Fucking hell.

“Uh—” She cleared her throat hard and willed her heart to calm the fuck down so she could breathe. Ignoring the way Mattias’s brows rose, she pushed on. “Good morning. Did you have a nice weekend?” She winced. She and Mattias never asked such fucking inane questions of each other, preferring to start their conversations with the latest unhinged headline that had crossed their mutual-interest newsfeed. Her shoulders hit her ears, and she registered with the sting of a reopening wound that she had started scraping at her thumb again. She picked up a pen and started clicking the top instead, promising herself anew that she categorically would not pick at the raw skin on her thumb again today.

He grunted. “All right.” He closed the door behind him, then strode to the empty chair in front of her desk and fell into it, rainbow-striped tie loose and slightly askew. “What’s wrong with you?”

The anvil in her stomach, which was a stalwart while she was at work, sank, and she couldn’t look at him, instead examining a dent in her desk where she’d dropped a hole punch recently, thumb clicking the top on her pen. “I, uh—” She coughed through the thickness in her throat. “I need to recuse myself from the Jenkins matter. I’ve got a conflict of interest.”

Mattias brought a hand to the stubble on his chin and leaned an elbow on the arm of the chair, eyes on the ceiling. “Okaaay.” He drew out the word and folded a long leg over the other. “I assume this has something to do with our conversation at my birthday party?” Brows raised, he watched her closely, eyes scanning her face. Judging by the way he gave a single nod, her expression said all it needed to. “Did you come to me early?”

Her stomach lurched again, and she shifted in her seat, clicking the pen furiously in her lap. Had she? “I—I think so,” she stammered.

Mattias let out a long, slow breath and leveled her with a look. “Have you—” He shrugged, head tilted, a sheepishness creeping into his expression. “Has it turned… tangible?”

Elliott’s mouth dropped open, and she fumbled the pen to the floor. “Wh—no! No, of course not. Nothing like that, I’m—” She took a deep breath, gripping the arm of her chair with one hand before she managed to look at Mattias. “No. Not like that.” It came out harsher than she intended, but she steadied herself again with another breath in, quelling the panic that had taken hold in her chest and squeezed. She took solace in the fact that it was the truth. She hadn’t slept with Mackenzie. She wished she had, but Mattias didn’t need to be privy to that thought.

Mattias shot her a crooked smirk, and Elliott was sure she’d melted into the chair with relief. “Good. So, tell me what this is about, exactly, and we’ll go from there.”

She told him a mildly sanitized version of the truth. One that didn’t involve the morning they’d woken up in bed together after Elliott’s semiconscious brain had taken control of her body. Hot, roiling discomfort rose again as she told him about how Mackenzie had kissed her, but she was able to bury it when all Mattias did in response was nod calmly in understanding.

When she was done, Mattias continued to look at her expectantly. Under the weight of his apparent expectation, Elliott squirmed where she sat. “Um. So, that’s it.”

Mattias laughed, and it took up all the air in her office, wrapping her in its husky warmth. “That’s it? Are you kidding me? Honey”—and Elliott flinched at the word because it was foreign coming from him—“do you know some of the shit that people in this office have done? The partners, even?”

Elliott frowned. “Presumably much worse?”

Mattias laughed again and wiped his watering eyes. “Elliott, I’m not going to tell you the details, but you falling in love with the lawyer on the other side of your matter pales in comparison. Honestly, I figured we’d be having this conversation at some point, but I thought it would be after you’d done something far more X rated than kissing the girl.”

Her jaw unhinged itself. “I never said I was falling in lo⁠—”

“Please.” He put up a hand to stop her. “I’ve known you a few years now, and I hired you because you would never let your personal life interfere with your work if it weren’t serious, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.” Heat crept up Elliott’s chest and into her cheeks, and a smile tugged at the side of her mouth. “Elliott”—he leaned forward across the desk and peered at her—“this is a good thing. You’ve found someone who sets your world on fire. The work shit is easily managed. We deal with conflict barriers all the time.”

Elliott frowned. “So”—she cleared her throat—“you’re not… disappointed? With me?”

Mattias fixed her with a hard look. “Why would I be disappointed?”

The clicking of the pen sounded through the room, and Mattias graciously ignored it. “I just thought—well, you gave me the matter and everything, and I—I wanted to finish it for you. Properly, I mean.”