One year ago...
Claire Henderson walked into Simone Chandler's expansive corner office carrying her notebook and a stack of legal papers. She expected to need the notebook, but she'd just snatched the papers randomly off of her cubicle desk when Simone had summoned her. She felt a need to always look busy in Simone's presence, which was silly--first because she always
was
busy and second because although Simone could be brusque at times she'd been nothing but encouraging in the three months since Claire had taken a clerk's position at Travis & Chandler.
"Matt Ellis says you did the research and drafted the brief for Stephens versus New Derby," Simone said without taking her eyes from her computer monitor.
"Uh, yes Ma'am." Claire hesitated. "Did I miss something important?"
"All of it's important. Nonetheless...you were the one who turned up that public use ruling from...when, 1862? Quite a reach for a relevant precedent, wasn't it?"
Claire shifted uneasily on her feet. "Ma'am--"
"It got Judge Ramirez's attention. Enough so that he entered summary judgment for our client at the hearing. Guess the city will have to find a route for the light rail extension that doesn't gobble up half of Marshal Spring's back nine."
At last, Simone looked up at Claire and smiled. "A nineteenth-century judgment for a pig farmer has saved a major client the time and expense of a trial--oh, and just by-the-by, probably saved their entire business to boot. They're very, very happy. Which makes me very happy. Frankly, this win was as much yours as it was Matt's."
Claire let out her breath slowly. "Thank you, Ma'am."
"Simone. We're friends here. Burke and I have known you for ages, ever since Herb first joined the firm. When you were a new mother with twins." She gestured to the occasional chair in front of her desk. Claire sat. "You are head-and-shoulders the best law clerk we've ever hired. As well you should be, considering your background. It's time we talk about your options.
"I understand that dipping a toe back into the professional waters, after so many years at home with the children, has been a big step for you. But you can't be satisfied for too much longer with being the--forgive me--the most 'senior' law clerk in New Derby. You should be practicing law again. Full time. Here. Burke and I would love to have you on staff."
"I-I'm very flattered, Ma'am--I mean, Simone. I'm afraid that it might be complicated right now."
"You mean that your husband would object." Simone rolled her eyes ever so slightly. "Stuff and nonsense. Is this 1951, Claire? I'm well aware that Herb didn't like you putting in for the clerkship here. And believe me, I know how challenging it can be for spouses working alongside one another in a highly charged environment like ours. God knows I'm sure Burke thinks so, too. But look, I'll ask him to have a word with Herb--"
"No! That is, please don't. I--"
The receptionist beeped Simone's desk phone. "Your twelve o'clock is waiting, Ma'am."
"Send her on in." Simone turned her attention back to Claire. "So, then...?"
"Thank you so much for the offer, Simone. May I have a day or two to think it over?"
"Of course, dear." Simone shrugged and returned to her work without another word.
Claire struggled to sort her thoughts while walking back to her cubicle in the outer office. It wasn't as if she hadn't hoped for this opportunity when she'd applied for the job. She just hadn't expected it to come so quickly! But she feared that if she accepted, the months of simmering resentment that had been brewing with her husband would break out into open warfare. He'd been adamant that she not take on a full-time job, and livid that she'd applied to T&G. "It looks like I pulled strings or something."
Which was Herb Henderson in a nutshell: controlling and completely absorbed in his image, his career--basically, in himself. Well, she'd given in to his demands far too often when the children were younger. Now that Robyn commuted to college and spent most of her waking hours on campus, and Noah...
Claire pushed thoughts of Noah away. In protecting his pride, Herb had failed their son. So had she. Yielding to her husband to avoid conflict had become such an ingrained habit over the years that when she'd needed to summon her strength, for Noah's sake, she'd discovered it had flown.
Brooding alone at home in the empty days since then had become unbearable. She saw only two ends to this story: drink herself to death, or work herself to death.
Mustering the dregs of her courage, she'd chosen work.
When she reached her desk there was a thumb drive laying on the touchpad of her laptop. She assumed that it contained some research files that she'd asked an intern to find for her earlier. When she plugged it in, a password prompt appeared. There wasn't a note with the drive, nor any message from the intern.
A one-word text popped up on her phone's notification window:
!Autonomy1
Claire looked around at the neighboring workstations and back down the aisle. She was alone. Shrugging, she typed "!Autonomy1" into the prompt, which was immediately replaced by a list of files on the drive. She opened the first.
Her blood froze in her veins.
It was an image of her husband sitting naked on a bed with two young women crouched on either side of him. One was playing with his balls while the other sucked his dick.
Claire slammed the laptop shut. Fighting a surge of panic, she pulled the machine free from its docking station and sprinted with it out of the glass office enclosure, down the corridor. She found an empty meeting room. Locking herself inside to make sure she'd be left alone she flipped the display open and looked again.
Fake,
she told herself.
Photoshopped.
Who would want to hurt her husband? Probably a lot of people. There were lawyers at the firm who disliked him. Attorneys he'd faced off against in court who hated his guts. And clients who valued his expertise but would call him an asshole to his face. The sad truth was that Herb Henderson wasn't easy to like. He had enemies.
None of which really mattered because, however strongly Claire wanted to deny the evidence of her eyes, it was definitely Herb getting serviced by the two young blondes on the bed. She'd lived with him for twenty-five years, and she knew too well what he looked like naked.
But would he do this? Would he cheat on me?
She knew the answer to that, too, and she hated it.
Steeling herself, she opened several others of the files and got another shock: they weren't all just Herb fucking other women. The pictures apparently documented a full-fledged orgy in what looked like a lavish hotel suite.
