As she walked around her desk, her bag swung out and knocked over the glass of water. Agh! All over her papers. All her edits and notes. She blotted the papers with napkins from one drawer devoted to extra napkins and plastic utensils from her take-out dinners. Still wet. She draped a few papers over the backs and arms of her guest chairs. Finding a ribbon left over from a wine bottle gift at the close of a trial, she strung it from her floor lamp to her bookcase, and using binder clips, hung papers off it. She quickly closed her office door so nobody could see her paper laundry. She laid out some papers on the floor. She’d quickly input her edits on the first ten pages while the others dried. Winnie was going to find this hysterical.

A knock sounded at the door, and she opened it to find Malaburn. Her back tensed. He took in the scene in her office and raised an eyebrow.

“I knocked over a glass of water.” She removed the papers from her guest chair, felt the cushion to confirm it was dry, then carefully stepped over the papers on the floor to return to her own seat.

Sitting down, he peered at her through his tortoise-shell rimmed glasses, like she was a bug he wanted to squash. “Glad you could make time for my little assignment. You’re on such high-profile cases nowadays. I see the Rothman case frequently in the news. That was a nasty article in the Wall Street Journal the other day.”

Really nasty. It had quoted the plaintiff in the case, this French multi-millionaire, Pierre, and his public complaint alleging that Mr. Rothman had made a $200,000 trade in Pierre’s account without his approval. Only one sentence noted that Rothman and Hen Bank disputed those allegations vigorously.

“We’re working with our communications team to get more favorable press this weekend.”

“Bit behind the ball.” Malaburn sniffed.

She wasn’t even responsible for press. “Not necessarily. We know more about their approach now, and now we get to counter it and leave a positive impression.”

He steepled his fingers. “And I hear you won the Popflicks pitch.”

“I’m excited. Hopefully this client will bring in a lot of work for the firm.” Hint, hint. A new client demanded utter availability and commitment, not an overloaded, stressed-out associate. And the firm recognized that. It was like a legal “get out of jail free” card.

“My assignment shouldn’t take much time,” he said. “It’s updating your past memo for a pitch.”

Preparing for a pitch could be just a short-term assignment, but he’d probably get the business. Her stomach knotted. She was too busy for this, but she needed his vote for partner. She couldn’t see how she could just say no. “I’ll talk to the assignment partner.”