Read Online Do-Over by Dorien Kelly - Free Book Online

York without certain accommodations.”
    “I know.”
    “And I think you also know that our finance practice group is in need of some fresh business. This isn’t like the litigation department, where one big case can feed us indefinitely.”
    “I know,” she said once again.
    Cara also knew that she didn’t have the connections to bring in that sort of work. In law, you were either a finder or a grinder: you found new clients, or you ground out so many billable hours that you became indispensable to your firm. She led the harried life of a grinder.
    “Since the day you arrived, you’ve been a wonderful asset to the firm. But you know, you’ve never really been put to the test. Maybe that’s what Morgan’s arrival is meant to be—your chance to prove your mettle to us. Back when—”
    “Is this going to be one of those ‘I walked five miles through the snow to get to my classes at Harvard Law’ speeches?” Cara interrupted.
    She imagined that but for his Botox injections, Stewart’s brows would have flown upward to match the start of surprise in his eyes. Then he relaxed and favored her with a smile.
    “Everything happens for a reason, Cara.”
    She should have opted for the poor, suffering attorney talk. “ Everything? You don’t think that random, stupid events are visited on us? That’s what I believe, Stewart, and I’m fresh out of words to explain how utterly sucky this past week has been.”
    The phone rang.
    Stewart muttered “damn,” glanced at his watch and said, “Suzy’s on her way in. I was supposed to take her out to lunch, but something’s come up. This is going to be a long call.”
    Suzy was Stewart’s twenty-two-year-old bride, acquired soon after his face-work had failed to fend off depression over the approaching Big 5-0. Cara really liked Suzy, who at least was less bitchy than Stewart’s last wife.
    “I don’t suppose you could keep her company for me, could you?”
    She hesitated.
    “Just this once…”
    He had that charming Peter Pan act down pat. “Okay.”
    It wasn’t until she was out the door that it occurred to her that she’d just taken on an assignment for which law school hadn’t prepared her. She, Cara Adams, was now a wife-sitter.
    D ECIDING TO MOVE HOME turned out to be a boatload easier than actually doing it. Since returning to New York on Monday, Mark had packed his office, packed his apartment, arranged for a sublet and reassured friend after friend that contrary to the Manhattan mind-set, Detroit was not located somewhere north of Siberia. He knew that most of his buddies would agree to his face, and then after he was gone, talk about the “poor, deluded bastard, stranded in the wilderness.”
    As for the women he’d dated, once he’d boarded that plane home, he was as good as dead to them. That, at least, covered his current state, since his friends had thrown him one hell of a going-away party last night.
    When, bleary-eyed and semi-hungover, he’d walked through the gate at Detroit Metro just past dawn today, there had been no marching band, no virgins throwing rose petals, not even Cara Adams in snug shorts and a skimpy white top, as he’d so vividly fantasized at thirty-thousand feet. There had been only Jerome, in one pisser of a mood over having to pick him up at such an early hour on a Friday.
    His faithful and totally nonservile servant had been equally unthrilled with the concept of Mark moving home, even temporarily. Apparently, in Jerome’s book, once someone had crossed out of their twenties, the front door to the family manse should be locked behind them.
    Mark agreed…in theory. As a practical matter, he was in no mood to go house-hunting. He’d had about all the stress a guy could stomach without either a therapist or tranquilizers. Listening to some real estate agent yap about neutral decor and booming real estate values just wasn’t going to happen.
    After ditching Jerome midlecture, Mark had closeted himself in the library