Her lips quirked despite herself.
Moira bustled in, a mug of steaming coffee in her hands. “Do you need ibuprofen too?” her assistant asked, looking her over critically.
“No, the coffee is perfect, thank you.” She looked at Moira, suddenly struck by the fact that the young woman actually cared about her. She and Danny—and Jamie—had her back. Connor and Louisa too, but somehow they were exceptional.
For some reason, she wondered who had her father’s back.
Moira leaned down to peer into her face. “Are you coming down with something?”
“No, I’m fine.” She took a careful sip of the hot liquid and then set it down. There was no way she could drink much of anything at the moment. “Would you clear my calendar for the afternoon?”
“Of course,” Moira said, hurrying to her desk to take care of it.
She fielded calls from the partners the rest of the day, as if she needed them to tell her she was representing one of their biggest clients and that this case was important. She always did her best, regardless of who she was representing.
When she felt like she could get out without raising too many eyebrows, she shut her computer down, bundled up, and went to Moira’s desk. “I’m off for the rest of the afternoon.”
Moira dropped her hands in her lap and sat back. “You’re dying, aren’t you? I was worried about other things, but that’s the only reason I can think of for your behavior recently. Plus, the headache.”
She blinked incredulously. “Do I look like I’m dying?”
“No, you look rosier than ever, which is even more discombobulating.” Moira gaped, suddenly gasping. She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “You aren’t having an affair with a partner, are you?”
Before Jules could get indignant about that, Moira waved her hand. “No, you can’t be. All the partners have been accounted for when you’ve been gone.”
“How do you know that?” she asked, equal parts curious and incredulous.
“Because I’ve checked.” Moira shrugged. “I need to know what’s going on so I can be prepared to back you if you need it.”
She softened. “That’s why you’re so focused on this?”
“Well, yes.” Moira scowled at her, but her scowl was tinged with hurt at the edges. “What? You think I’m just prying in your life? You aren’t being courted by another firm, are you? Without asking me to go with you?”
“Of course not.” She shook her head. “Moira, I’m not planning on leaving, especially without you, and I’m not dying.”
Her assistant’s eyes narrowed. “But you won’t tell me what it is that you’re doing?”
“No,” she said firmly.
Crossing her arms, Moira frowned at her. After a long moment she nodded. “Okay.”
Jules raised her brow. “You’re appeased?”
“For the moment.” Moira went back to typing whatever it was she was working on. “But if I find out that you’ve misled me, I’ll do something drastic. Like put cayenne in your coffee.”
“Then I’ll make sure I don’t disappoint you.” She paused. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Moira lowered her head and went back to work.
Shaking her head, she headed to 110 N. Wacker.
“They moved the mediation up to Monday,” she said the moment she entered Jamie’s office. Nodding at Didier, who lounged on the couch, she dropped her bag on a chair and began to take her coat off. “I need some sort of accelerated course to get me ready over the next couple days.”
Jamie smiled, crossing his ankles as he leaned against his desk. “Didier says that you’re doing great.”
“Not great enough, apparently.” She sat down next to Didier. “I had a panic attack at the thought of facing him on Monday.”
“Where is Osei?” Didier asked.