Page 10 of Fallen Prince
“Miss Fitzgerald.” Mr. Callahan’s voice cracked through my tirade like a whip. “I’ll see you in my office.”
All the blood drained from my face, and my stomach dropped to the floor.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.My boss had heard me berating a colleague. I’d called Gavin adouchebagright in front of him.No one had heard my bully needling me, but he’d riled me enough that I’d raised my voice in impotent fury. I’d been desperate to hurt him like he’d been hurting me, but I’d only given him what he wanted.
His malicious grin remained fixed in place, his eyes flashing with triumph. He stepped in close, making sure I felt his intimidating presence. At six-foot one, he towered over my five-foot four frame.
Memories of when he’d used that size to his advantage assailed me. At our elite private school, he had been the popular golden boy and the ringleaderof my numerous tormentors. I’d been an obvious target: the awkward kid with a dead mom and a famous dad who didn’t quite know how to raise a girl. Ever since we’d both landed the same internship, it’d taken all my willpower to resist Gavin’s renewed cruelty. Today, I’d finally cracked.
I hated that he could make me feel like this again. I’d worked so hard to overcome this weakness, but my awful ordeal with Max had made me far too fragile this morning.
“Enjoy getting fired,” Gavin said in a low, almost intimate whisper. He waited until a tremor raced over my skin before turning on his heel and strolling away like he hadn’t just ripped me to shreds.
“Allie,” Mr. Callahan prompted, already halfway to his office.
I cringed and followed him on leaden legs, feeling as though I was headed for the gallows. I was so getting fired. That office door would close behind me, and I would be scolded before being told to pack up my desk. All my dreams and determination to make my own way in the world crumbled inside my chest.
Somehow, I made it into his office. The soft click of the door closing behind me clangedthrough my body like a prison cell locking me in and sealing my fate. My internship was over. My reputation was destroyed.
I sank my teeth into my lower lip to stop it from quivering. I stared at a spot on the worn blue carpet, unable to meet Mr. Callahan’s disappointed gaze.
“Is Gavin bothering you?” he asked.
I blinked, sure I must be misinterpreting his gentle tone. He sounded almost concerned, but that couldn’t be right. I’d just insulted a coworker in the middle of the office.
“You can tell me,” he said, still sounding bafflingly reassuring. His gray eyes were soft and warm, and the fine lines around his salt and pepper moustache drew deeper with worry. “I doubt you called him a douchebag if he didn’t deserve it.” His lips quirked up at the corners, as though he was fighting a smile.
Then he turned suddenly grim. “If Mr. McCrae is being inappropriate with you, tell me now, and I’ll handle it. I don’t tolerate workplace harassment.”
A confession teased the tip of my tongue. My life would be so much easier if Gavin were fired. I wouldn’t have to see him at all. We didn’t go to the same university; he’d chosen Harvard, whereas I’dhad enough of hyper-elite schools and ruthless rivalries. It was just bad luck that our families ran in the same circles, and he’d gone for the same prestigious legal internship that I’d applied for.
I swallowed hard and shook my head, refusing the lifeline Mr. Callahan offered. Gavin’s dad was one of my father’s biggest political supporters and donors. I couldn’t let my personal weakness damage such an important relationship. My dad loved being mayor, helping the people of New York. I wouldn’t do anything that might sour his connections.
“No, sir. Gavin’s not harassing me. We just had a disagreement, and I…” My throat went tight, trying to hold in the false admission that I was unfit to work this morning because of my own carelessness. I squared my shoulders and forced myself to continue. “I’m not feeling one-hundred-percent today. I’m sorry I behaved unprofessionally. And I’m so sorry that I was late. I’ll put in whatever hours are necessary to get caught up. Please let me know what I can do to make this right.”
My tone barely wavered by the end, and my back was straight. There. The worst was over. I’d taken responsibility for my supposed personal failings. Now I just had to withstand Mr. Callahan’sjudgment. At least he didn’t seem to be in the mood to fire me, so I kept a tiny spark of hope flickering in my chest.
His lips thinned, and I suppressed the urge to squirm beneath his scrutiny. Then, to my shock, he placed a warm hand on my shoulder in an undeniably reassuring gesture. “You can talk to me, Allie. You’re not in trouble. I already know Gavin’s no angel. You were right, by the way: his father made a call to my superiors. I wouldn’t have approved his placement if my hand hadn’t been forced. You earned your right to be here. He didn’t. Never think otherwise.”
“You heard that?” I squeaked, mortified that my boss had been privy to more of the awful conversation than I’d realized.
His hand squeezed gently, offering paternal comfort that I never would’ve expected from the wickedly clever and infamously tough prosecutor. “Relax, Allie,” he soothed. “I’m not angry with you. I wish I could give that little shit a piece of my mind, too.” He beamed at me, appearing almost proud. “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“I won’t,” I breathed, quick to promise him anything that would keep him smiling rather thanyelling at me for my failings. I cleared my throat, struggling to maintain professionalism. “But I am sorry for being late today. Please let me know what I can do to make it up to you, Mr. Callahan.”
“It’s Mike.” He corrected me with a wink. “I’m not as scary as you seem to think, but I have to admit I’m a little flattered that you find me so intimidating.”
“Well, your record speaks for itself,” I gushed, marveling that one of my personal heroes was being so casual with me. “My dad’s always said that you’re one of the smartest people he’s ever known. I referenced your work on the Kassel case in my law school application essay. Totally inspiring.”
Mr. Callahan—Mike—laughed, a rich sound that warmed my insides and chased away the last of the chill in my bones. “Now I’m definitely flattered. Where did you apply?”
“Columbia. I won’t find out if I’m admitted until the fall, but I applied early. It’s my first-choice law school.”
“Your dad’s alma mater.” His voice was rich with approval, and I soaked it in. “I’m sure he’s very proud of you. Based on your work ethic and GPA, I’m sure you’ll successfully follow in his footsteps.”
Even though I glowed at the praise, I fiddled with my locket—a familiar habit when I was feeling slightly anxious. I rubbed my thumb over the gold surface, which was pearl-smooth from years of wear. My first initial was engraved on the front, but the back had become my personal worry stone. Holding it reminded me of my mother’s strength, bolstering my confidence.
“I’m not planning on going into politics,” I admitted. Everyone thought I was trying to emulate my father—and I supposed I was choosing a similar path for my education and career choice. But that was about proving that I was capable and strong. My future would be very different. “I want to stay in Law. I want to make a difference.”
