Rascal (Rascals Book 1)(50)

“Of course she did,” Emerson answered for me, his arm around my waist.

Bryce waved down one of the stuffy looking waiters who was carrying a glass of champagne. It was my second of the night—more than I usually drank at office events—but tonight was worthy of celebration.

We all got a glass and toasted each other. It was a great moment, until I could see the realization of the news dawning on everyone. Lucinda looped her arm around her husband’s, her tone growing frosty.

“I suppose this means we’re all still in the running for the associate position,” she said with a little sniff.

Bryce’s smile faded too. “Not for long,” he said. “I heard they’ll be making the decision soon.”

I knew that competition was part of the deal, working in law, but I was still a little disappointed that our happy moment of comradery had faded so quickly. We all scattered pretty quickly after that, and I wove through the crowd with Emerson at my side, looking for the partners.

Instead we kept running into people that Emerson knew. Some of them from the party at his parents’ house. He was the perfect date, re-introducing me to people, making sure that I knew who they were and why they were important—because everyone at the party was important in some way to the firm.

“She just passed the bar,” he told absolutely everyone. “Not that I’m surprised,” he would add quickly after. “I always knew she would.”

He was possibly the world’s best boyfriend—talking me up to everyone like I was some sort of celebrity. I could see the way that people reacted to him—everyone knew that he was a Hayes—and the way they reacted to me once they knew how high he held me in regard.

“You’re good at this,” I mentioned to him after we had excused ourselves from another one of his high-powered acquaintances.

“Runs in the family,” he told me with a wink. “I was born schmoozing.”

It certainly felt that way, and the longer I spent with Emerson, the more easily it seemed to be for me to follow his lead and schmooze with the best of them.

Then, Emerson’s hand tightened in mine. I turned around to find his parents coming towards us, both of them wearing big smiles on their faces.

“Mother.” Emerson gave his mother an air kiss. “Father.” The two men shook hands.

“We were hoping we’d see you here,” Portia commented before giving me an air kiss of my own. “You look absolutely lovely, my dear. Jenny Packham?” she asked, looking at my dress. “Very flattering on your figure. Wonderful designer. Friend of the family, you know.”

I didn’t know, but I wasn’t surprised. Of course the Hayes family knew everyone worth knowing, from lawyers to dress designers.

“Good to see you again, Alexandra,” Henry said to me. “I’ve heard rumblings that congratulations are in order.”

I was surprised. Had Emerson told his parents or had the news just spread that quickly?

“Thank you,” I told him, smiling. “I’m just glad that the wait is over.”

“Now let’s hope that the firm will make the right decision when it comes to choosing a permanent associate,” Henry added.

The partners seemed to have unnaturally good hearing—or they just knew where the Hayeses were at all times—because within a few minutes, we were surrounded.

“Henry,” Arthur greeted him. “How good to see you.”

“We couldn’t miss an opportunity to show our support,” Henry said jovially. “Alexandra is a great girl.”

I felt Emerson tense beside me, but I didn’t understand why. I thought it was sweet that his parents had come out—and it definitely helped put me in better standing with the partners. And he was being so complimentary and kind—like father, like son.

“Alex has been singing the praises of your firm,” Henry continued. “And I daresay she’s very close to convincing me that I should start seriously considering switching my legal team.”

I paused. He almost made it sound mercenary, but that wasn’t what I had been doing. We’d only met twice so far, and I hadn’t said a word about luring him to the firm, but now he was making it sound like I had gone after him with a plan.

“Actually—” I started to correct him, but the partners were already pulling him away.

“I didn’t know you and my father were having private conversations,” Emerson said when we were alone.

“Hardly.” I smiled, turning back to him. “We spoke briefly at the party and once more when he came to the office, but that’s it. He’s exaggerating,” I added, wanting to be sure Emerson knew I wasn’t chasing his father to switch firms. “He’s the one who mentioned he might be looking for new representation, and I just smiled along.”

“Really?” Emerson looked skeptical.

“Look, I know his business is a big deal, and it would look good for me to bring him in as a client,” I admitted, “but I promise, I haven’t tried to poach him or anything.”

For a moment, Emerson didn’t say anything. Then he let out a heavy sigh.

“I should have seen this coming,” he said. “This is what my father does. He couldn’t get to me directly, so he’s going through you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused. “Your father was just trying to be helpful.”