Billionaire's Secret Baby

2

CHRISTINE

Déjà vu.

I t’s that moment when you sense that you’ve done something or experienced a particular situation before. You think hard about where and when it happened. You try to remember, but the memory won’t come. The details are fuzzy, and it’s almost like you’re desensitized to an experience that you were presumably part of.

I’ll never understand déjà vu. I’ve certainly experienced it before, lots of times, but right now, there’s nothing fuzzy and there are no tingly sensations. This isn’t a forgotten experience. It’s one I remember all too well. And it’s an experience I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to live through again.

“I’m getting fired?” I question in disbelief.

“I’m really sorry, Christine, but we talked about this. Three strikes and you’re out. Francis Rivera is planning to sue the company,” my boss says with a slight frown.

“He’s an asshole and a s****l offender. What did you expect me to do?”

“He came here for defense, not prosecution! You were his attorney; you were supposed to help him!”

“Pricks like Rivera need to be thrown in jail,” I say with a scoff.

As Ryder gets to his feet, the frown on his face becomes even more menacing. He’s a good boss, always has been, and a good man as well. He gave me a chance when no one else did. I really hate that I’m disappointing him right now.

“Why did you become an attorney, Christine?” he asks.

Lifting my head, I look straight into his dull blue eyes. The answer to his question is second- nature to me now. It’s something I’ve always known, always believed.

“I did it to uphold justice, to make a difference, to help people.”

“Well, Rivera’s a person, too. You’re an attorney, dammit. Every human being has a constitutional right to one, guilty or not. I didn’t ask you get to get him off. He was a lost cause. There was a witness and a lot of damning evidence. But was it really necessary for you to share information about the case with the prosecutor in charge of it?” he questions.

“I am required to share evidence with the prosecution.” “Really? Information protected by attorney-client privilege?” “I didn’t think I would get caught!” I yell.

Ryder’s right eye twitches.

“Yeah, I’m done, Christine. I can’t do this anymore,” he says in defeat before falling back onto the chair.

“Ryder, please. I promise it won’t happen again,” I start.

“I don’t think so. What happens if you have to defend a murderer, huh? A r****t? Would you be able to do so and give it your all without feeling guilty and wanting to do what’s right?” Ryder questions.

I bite my bottom lip but don’t reply. He already knows the answer to that question.

Ryder sighs. “Every attorney is faced with this dilemma, Chris. We all go through this, and we try our best to do our f*****g jobs. When you do s**t like this, it’s pretty clear you don’t have what it takes.”

I clench my fists.

“I do have what it takes,” I say quietly.

“Think about a career change, Christine. Become an activist, a philanthropist. I get your need to help people, but it seems like being a criminal defense lawyer just isn’t for you.”

“You’re still firing me?” I ask. He nods grimly.

“I’m sorry, Chris, but there’s nothing I can do. Higher-ups are furious. Rivera was a major investor in the firm. You’re lucky I was able to convince him not to report you for misconduct. He wanted to see you disbarred.”

I nod repeatedly. I suppose I do have that to be grateful for. I don’t regret what I did. It just sucks I got caught.

“It’s okay. I know you did all you could. You’re right, maybe I’m not cut out to be an attorney. I’ll leave.”

“I’m really sorry, Christine.”

I give him a shaky smile before walking out of the office. I enter the elevator in a daze and head down to my office on the third floor. A part of me registers the dirty looks some of my co-workers throw my way. They’ve never really liked me. I’m too brash, too loud, too bold. I’ve never belonged with any of them, and now I have to leave.

Oh God, Noah. What am I going to do about Noah?

“Heard you finally got cut.”

I look up and glare at Richard Clemmins. He made partner a few months ago and has been insufferable ever since. He’s a d**k, as the name implies, with an inflated ego. I wish I could wipe the smug smile off his face.

“Richard. Leave,” I say dismissively.

He chuckles, stepping closer and standing in front of my desk. “It was only a matter of time, Tiny,” he replies with a chuckle.

I grit my teeth and count to ten in my mind, lest I scream at him and chuck a stapler at his head. I’m not small or short in any sense, so the nickname doesn’t allude to that. The asshole shortened Christine to Tiny for some inexplicably annoying reason.

“Seriously, you don’t go leaking confidential information about your clients and not expect to face the music,” he continues.

“I will m**m you,” I threaten. He lets out a short whistle.

“Always so feisty. No wonder the attorney thing didn’t work out.” He pauses and his eyes soften.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ll miss you.” He sounds genuinely sincere.

I mentally sigh. This is why you should never date someone at your workplace—one minute you’re enemies, fierce competitors, and then the lines blur. Richard’s a d**k don’t get me wrong, but he’s a d**k with a nice face who also happens to be very good in bed.

“f**k off,” I say gruffly.

He laughs one more time before walking out of the office. I groan and place my head on the desk that isn’t mine anymore.

Where did I go wrong?