Chapter 5 5

The next morning, Elodie stood outside the courthouse. Carter was with her. She was wearing a grey suit she had bought at a thrift store. It was slightly too big in the shoulders, making her look smaller, more fragile. Perfect for the role she was about to play.

"Ready?" Carter asked.

"Let's get it filed," Elodie said.

They walked in, filed the paperwork, and walked out twenty minutes later. It was anticlimactic.

"Coffee," Carter said. "Real coffee."

They ducked into The Grind, a boutique coffee shop near the legal district. It was dimly lit, quiet, filled with lawyers billing four hundred dollars an hour.

Elodie slid into a booth.

Then she froze.

Across the room, near the window, Keyon sat. Arlen was with him.

Keyon looked up. His eyes locked onto hers.

For a second, there was shock. He barely recognized her with the short hair and the cheap suit. Then, the shock turned to a sneer.

He stood up. He didn't care that he was in a meeting. He walked straight over to their booth.

Carter shifted, putting his arm on the table, creating a barrier.

Keyon ignored him. He looked down at Elodie.

"Are you done playing dress-up?" Keyon asked. His voice was loud. "You look like a temp worker."

"I am a temp worker," Elodie said evenly. "I have an interview today."

Arlen appeared at Keyon's elbow. He snickered. "An interview? For what? Does Starbucks need a barista?"

"Stokes Global," Elodie said.

Keyon laughed. It was a cruel, barking sound. "Stokes? You think Derrick will hire you? You have no skills, Elodie. You can't even manage a household staff, let alone a corporate job. You are a glorified housekeeper."

The cafe went quiet. People turned to look. A woman at the next table whispered to her friend.

Carter stood up, his fists clenched. "Watch your mouth, Schneider."

Elodie reached out and touched Carter's arm. "Sit down, Carter."

She stood up. She faced Keyon. She was five inches shorter than him, but she didn't shrink.

"A glorified housekeeper," she repeated.

"Yes," Keyon said. "Without me, you are nothing."

Elodie stepped closer. She reached out. Keyon flinched, expecting... what? A slap? A hug?

Her hands went to his neck. She adjusted his tie. It was crooked, the knot sloppy.

"If I'm just a housekeeper," she whispered, loud enough for Arlen to hear, "then the man who lost his housekeeper can't even dress himself properly. Your Windsor knot is a mess, Keyon. You look unprofessional."

She tightened the knot, choking him slightly, then smoothed it down.

Keyon's face flushed red. He reached up to check the tie. It had been crooked.

Someone in the back of the cafe giggled.

"The papers are filed," Elodie said. "Have your lawyer call mine."

She grabbed her bag and turned to leave.

Keyon grabbed her wrist. His grip was hard, bruising.

"You don't walk away from me when I'm speaking," he hissed.

Elodie didn't think. Instinct took over-the muscle memory from the Krav Maga classes she took in secret on Tuesday nights.

She rotated her wrist against his thumb-the weak point-and simultaneously drove her elbow down onto his forearm.

Keyon yelped. His hand sprang open.

Elodie stepped back. Her eyes were cold, dangerous.

"Don't touch me," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of a threat.

She grabbed Carter's sleeve and walked out.

Arlen stared at Keyon. "Did she just... use a joint lock on you?"

Keyon rubbed his wrist. It was throbbing. He looked around the cafe. Everyone was looking at him.

"Don't be stupid," Keyon snapped, though his heart was racing. "She just got lucky. She flailed."

"She's going to Stokes," Arlen reminded him.

Keyon narrowed his eyes. "Call HR at Stokes. Tell them if they hire her, Schneider Holdings pulls out of the joint venture negotiations. Blacklist her."

"But... that's illegal retaliation," Arlen muttered.

"Do it," Keyon ordered. "I want her to crawl."

In the car, Carter was grinning.

"That was beautiful," he said. "The look on his face when you twisted his wrist... priceless."

Elodie looked out the window. She rubbed the spot where Keyon had grabbed her.

"He called me a housekeeper," she said softly.

"He's an idiot," Carter said.

"He's right," Elodie said. "That's all I was to him. But not anymore."

Her phone rang.

"Hello? This is Elodie Dickson."

"Ms. Dickson? This is Stokes Global HR. We'd like to see you for a second round this afternoon."

Elodie smiled. It was a shark's smile.

"I'll be there."