âGood to see you after all these years. How have you been?â
âAre you out of your mind?â Colleen asked, her blue eyes molten.
Eric sighed. âListen. Join me for lunch. We can discuss this like reasonable professionals.â
She blinked in surprise. âYouâ¦youâre asking me to lunch?â
âWhy wouldnât I? We used to be friends.â He imbued the last word with a meaning only sheâd understand.
Her face pinkened. âThose days are long over.â
His brain flooded with memories of a different Colleen. A night he absolutely had to put out of his mind during the case. Sleeping with Colleen had been one hell of a beautiful mistake, one heâd never forgottenâ¦
Would never forget.
Despite the fact that she was back in his life, he aimed to keep everything strictly professional. When it came to Colleen Delaney, that was his only choice.
Lynda Sandoval is a former police officer who exchanged the excitement of that career for blissfully isolated days creating stories she hopes readers will love. Though sheâs also worked as a youth mental health and runaway crisis counsellor, a television extra, a trade-show art salesperson, a European tour guide and a bookkeeper for an exotic bird and reptile companyâamong other weird jobsâLyndaâs favourite career, by far, is writing books. In addition to romance, Lynda writes womenâs fiction and young adult novels, and in her spare time she loves to travel, quilt, bid on eBay, hike, read and spend time with her dog. Lynda also works parttime as an emergency fire/medical dispatcher for the fire department. Readers are invited to visit Lynda on the web at www.LyndaLynda.com.
Colleen Delaney strode from the executive conference room, shoulders back and head held highâ¦barely. Sheâd gone a full ten rounds in the ring of office politics and taken her fair share of cheap blows. But in the end, sheâd prevailed. The Ned Jones case was all hers.
She should feel triumphant. Exhilarated. Vindicated.
Instead, anger rolled through her veins like spilled mercury, fluid and shining and toxic. The sting of unshed tears burned her eyes and the mere notion of letting them fall deepened her anger. Showing weakness within the palatial walls of McTierney, Wenzel, Scott and Framus?
Not an option.
Not for her.
Not ever.
After all these years of grinding through the grunt cases, winning the unwinnables, never uttering a complaint, sheâd still had to beg the partners for a boon assignment that shouldâve been hers without question. Unbelievable. Sheâd devoted her entire law career to this firm, had more than earned their respectâor shouldâve, considering her impeccable track record in the courtroom, her professionalism, her team attitude. The partners shouldâve acknowledged all that and rewarded her for it with the Jones caseâminus the battle. Because she deserved it, plain and simple. But there was that one small detailâ¦.
She was female.
Her jaw tightened.
It wasnât exactly a secret that women werenât welcome in this boysâ club, not even when the woman in question kicked the boysâ butts all over Chicagoâs legal system and proved herself more than worthy.
Repeatedly.
McTierney, Wenzel, Scott and Framus, Attorneys-at-Law, had a long history of pressing female lawyers against that glass ceiling until they couldnât breathe anymore. Until they lost their fight. Until they simplyâ¦left. Ironically, it was the main reason Colleen had sought out this firm in the first place, which sometimes made her wonder about her sanity. But that infamous glass ceiling lured her as the penultimate challenge. She wanted to punch her fist straight through it in honor of all the excellent female attorneys whoâd come and gone, whoâd been treated like dirt, whoâd given up.
Colleen Delaney didnât give up.
She would be the one who busted through to a full partner position if it killed her. The boys could smell her single-minded ambition like prey scenting a hungry lioness on the hunt. It only made them scramble even harder to prevent her from succeeding. Maybe that was her problem. She was too good at her job, too unwilling to be placed into some societal box, too much of a fighter. Yeah? Well, too bad. The old boys could try to keep Lioness Delaney in her place all they wanted. It wouldnât work.
What if you get married?
What if you decide to have babies?
What if you put the firm at a disadvantage because of your damn biological clock?
A new wave of fury crested and broke over her as she recalled the numerous times sheâd heard carefully phrased versions of those inconceivable questions while being told some pimple-faced male junior attorney had leapfrogged her for a promotion that shouldâve been hers, for a career-making case that shouldâve landed on her desk. The partners couldnât state outright that she wasnât getting ahead because she was female, of course. But somehow they always managed to drive the point home without crossing any discriminatory lines.