BACK AT MY NARROW DESK on the second floor, tucked away between the photocopier and the water cooler, I put my head in my hands. How could I have been so stupid? Whatever possessed me to put those images on my timeline? And why hadn’t I just apologized and promised to delete them? I could have signed Miss Pritchard’s bloody paper and kept my job. Even if I continued to practice pole fitness—and I would—there’s no guarantee Morgans would ever find out and if they did I’d be no worse off than I am now. I had been intending to hand in my notice in a few months in any case. All I’d had to do was keep my head down...
Fucking Morgans! This might be the most prestigious legal firm in this city, but the partners don’t walk on water. Who are James and Daniel Morgan to dictate what I can and can’t
