LOVING THE HEAD MAN (2 page)

       But Bree was certain that she would be the one hired by Colgate at the program’s end.  She was certain that no-one needed it more than she did or was willing to work harder to get it.  This was the chance of a lifetime for her.  Not just because of the potential job offer itself and the signing bonus, which were huge. 
But mainly because she would be at the top of her profession.
  She’d be working at a prestigious firm like Colgate that would more than afford her the means to fulfill her promise to her father, the promise to take care of her family back home, her impoverished, always-got-drama-going-on family, and she was more than ready to give it her all.

       To her dismay, however, it didn’t start out as promising as she had hoped. 
Especially when she met Alan DeFrame.

       She was the seventh finalist to go in for the meet and greet with the program’s supervisor.  The other six finalists had returned looking harried and terrified, it seemed to Bree, but then they’d laugh it off as if they had misunderstood what had really taken place. 

       “There will be blood,” number four had jokingly said. 

       “It will be brutal,” number six had smiled and commented. 

       And then it was Bree’s turn.

       Alan DeFrame sat behind the large desk in his large office flipping through stacks of documents as if he were searching almost frantically for something.  He was also on his cell phone, explaining to his caller that he thought he had the document in front of him.  His face was frowned and his look completely concentrated on the task at hand.  He didn’t so much as acknowledge Bree, or even realize she was standing in front of his desk, until he had ended his cell phone call and bothered to look up.

       He was easily handsome, Bree thought, with the sharp, angular features of a male model: thin but muscular physique, high cheek bones, a long nose,
attractively
puckered lips.  His hair was a strawberry blonde and his eyes were a kind of murky blue.  With his good looks and those stylish prescription glasses on his face, he came across as both snarky and sexy.  He would have been remarkably attractive in fact, Bree thought, if he didn’t give off the air of somebody who knew he looked good and not only loved the fact, but flaunted it.

       “Which one are you?” he asked her, unabashedly looking up and then down her entire body.  Not bad, he thought as he checked her out.  About five-five or so in height, long, neatly braided hair framing her small, cute face, almond-shaped bright brown eyes,
full
lips.  Although she was a little darker and more ethnic-looking than he usually found attractive, and wasn’t razor-thin the way he liked his females to be, her curves were in all the right places and worked beautifully on her.  Yes, he thought again.  He will definitely like a piece of that.

       “Say again?” he asked her when his preoccupation caused him to miss what she had said.

       “Hudson,” Bree said.  “I said my name is Bree Hudson.”

       “Yes, that’s right,” he said as he began searching through a different pile of files on his messy desk.   When he found the one he was looking for, he opened it and began reading from it.  “Brianna Shakira Hudson. 
Mississippi Coastal Law School.
 
Graduated high in your class, but not the highest.
  Was the vice-president of various organizations, but never
president.
  Was on the law review, but was not its editor.”  He looked up again.  “Are these facts accurate?”

       “Yes, sir, I was–”

       “Not what one would call
a glowing
curriculum vitae
, wouldn’t you agree?”  He tossed her folder aside.

       Bree stared at him.  “I’m pleased with what I’ve done, sir.”

       “Pleased?”

       “Yes, sir,” Bree replied confidently.  “I think my college career was exemplary, especially when you consider that I was the first person in my family to ever go to–”

       “Sit down,” he said, interrupting her. 

       Bree just stood there, unable to quite understand.

       “Sit down, I said,” Alan ordered.  “Oh, come now, Miss Hudson.  You’ve got to be a lot faster on your feet than that if you expect to make it here at Colgate.”

       Bree felt as if she had walked into an exam she didn’t know she was having, and had turned up completely unprepared.  She sat down in the chair in front of Alan’s desk.  He was now searching again through the various papers on his desk. 

       “You were early this morning,” he said.

       “Yes, sir,” Bree said, thrilled that someone had told him that she was the first to arrive.  “Where I come from they say the early bird catches the worms.”

       “Be on time next time,” he said without looking up.  “Not too early.  Not late. 
On time.”
  He looked at her over the top tip of his glasses.  “There are no worms to be caught here.  Understood?”

       Bree nodded, confused. 
“Yes, sir,” she said, unable to hide her growing disappointment.

       He stopped searching through his papers and considered her.  Then he tossed his glasses on his already overcrowded desk, ran his hand through his hair, and leaned back.  “I’m a blunt man, Miss Hudson.  That’s why Mr. Colgate put me in charge of his recruitment program.  He knows I won’t b/s him.  He asks my
opinion,
I give it to him straight.   Do you find that quality admirable, Miss Hudson?”

      
“Bluntness?
 
Absolutely.”

       “Why?”

       There was probably no right answer, Bree was beginning to believe, but she plowed ahead anyway. 
“Because the truth is always preferable.”

      
“Even if it hurts?”

      
“Especially if it hurts.”

       “Here’s some truth then,” Alan said, leaning forward, his blue eyes blazing.  “You don’t stand a rat’s chance in hell to make it here at Colgate.”

       Bree felt as if her heart had momentarily stopped.  He wasn’t joking, either.  He wasn’t cracking one smile.  And she immediately felt defensive, batting her large eyes as she was prone to do whenever she felt under siege.  “May I ask why you believe so?”

      
“Because you’ve never been at the top of anything.
  You’ve been close, but never at the top. 
The bridesmaid, never the bride?
  We have over three hundred attorneys working at Colgate. 
Three hundred.
  And every one of them,
myself
included, was number one. 
All of the other finalists, all nine of them, graduated head of their classes, too.
 
Every one of them.
  Not second, not third, the head. 
Except you.
  And you’re some poor nobody from some nothing Mississippi law school and you still
wasn’t
number one?  Give me a break!  It’s a fluke you’re even here, Miss Hudson, a shot in the dark.  And flukes and shots in the dark rarely make it anywhere. 
Especially at a top firm like this one.”
  Then he leaned back again.  “How’s that for truth?”

       Bree felt crestfallen, but she wasn’t about to let him know it.  “Colgate has a rigorous selection process.  The fact that I was selected—”

      
“Doesn’t mean a damn thing.”
  Then he paused, considered her again.  “You want to know why you were
selected?
” 
he
asked her.  “You really want to know?”

       She wasn’t sure if she did or not at this point, but she nodded anyway.  “Yes, that would be helpful,” she said, batting her eyes again.

       Alan smiled at the cute way she batted her eyes.  But then he turned serious.  “The boss happened to walk into the board room at the time that we, the selection committee, were reviewing applicant videos, the ones where you guys sat before a camera and told us about your legal philosophy.  Your video happened to be on the screen when he entered the room, and he stopped and watched it.  It could have been anybody else’s video at that moment in time, but as fate would have it, it was yours.”

       He paused again, as if remembering the oddness of it.  “And the boss didn’t say a word about it,” Alan continued, “didn’t let on that he was even impressed.  He just ordered us to do whatever it was he had come into the room to order us to do, and left.  Some days later, when I gave him the names of the ten finalists who had made the cut, he told me to re-cut and
include
you.” 

       He looked at Bree as if he resented her.  “That’s how you made it here, Miss Hudson,” he said.  “You happened to light up the screen at the same time Robert Colgate happened to enter the room.  And he apparently liked what he saw or what he heard or whatever.  That’s why you’re here.  You weren’t selected, certainly not by me or the committee I chair.  You’re here because Robert Colgate, the head man himself, threw you a lifeline.  But he’s a hard
man,
don’t be seduced by his graciousness.  He may throw that lifeline your way, but it’s up to you to grab it and swim. 
Which is probably where you’ll fail miserably.
 
In the swimming.
  Now,” Alan said with a grin, “was that helpful enough?”

       Bree didn’t know what to say.  All of her fight seemed to want to seep out of her.  Why was everything such a battle for her?  She stammered.  “I don’t . . . I mean–”

       And Alan pounced.  “Come now,” he said, “is that the best you can do, Miss Hudson?  I just told you some searing truth.  You don’t belong here.  You took somebody else’s spot.  And all you can say
is
you don’t
?”

       “I mean, I didn’t realize–”

       “You didn’t realize?  What the devil does your realization have to do with this?  I’m talking about your future here.  I’m talking about your chance of making it all the way to the top of your profession.  And you didn’t realize?”

       Bree was determined to keep it together.  “I’m grateful that Mr. Colgate–”

       “He doesn’t want your gratitude.  Who the hell are you?  Ah, you’re pathetic!”

       And it continued that way for a good long time.  The other finalist was right: it was brutal.  Every answer Bree gave made her feel more and more inadequate.  Alan DeFrame’s brilliance allowed him to toy with her, to take what should have been seen as virtuous about her, like her humble beginnings, like her hard work and determination, and turn it inside out. 

       She knew he was testing her.  She knew he was baptizing her in the fire of the big leagues.  He wanted to know if she could take it, if she could handle the heat.  And she knew she could.  That was why she allowed him to castigate her, to brutalize her just as the others had said he would.  But her willingness changed when Alan walked around to the front of his desk, and told her to stand up.

       It seemed an odd request, but nothing about her meet and greet with Alan DeFrame could be classified as ordinary.  Stand up, he said, so she stood up.  But when he began slowly appraising her, looking her up and down as if he was inspecting a model for his runway, not an attorney for his law firm, she began to get concerned.