The glass of water seemed to move in slow motion. Meline Crawford watched it cross the air and land directly on Lucas Whitfield’s shirt. She put on her most innocent expression. “Oops.
Sorry. The glass slipped. ”
Lucas froze for exactly three seconds—long enough for Meline to savor every fragment of her small victory. Around them, the co-working space hummed with normal activity: people typing, phones ringing, no one noticing that war had just been declared at the tiny workstation in the corner.
“‘Slipped,’” he repeated, staring at the spreading stain. “Of course it slipped. Accidents happen,” she replied, turning back to her screen with a smile she didn’t bother to hide. Lucas took a deep breath.
He picked up his glass of orange juice, examined the liquid with unsettling calm, and Meline realized what was coming too late. The juice hit her like an abstract painting being created live—stains that definitely wouldn’t come out with soap and water. “Oops,” Lucas said with the same tone she’d used. “Sorry.
The glass slipped. ”
“You did that on purpose. ”
“Accidents happen. ”
Her eyes sparked.
His gleamed with satisfaction. That was how the first day of Meline Crawford and Lucas Whitfield sharing a workstation less than a meter wide began. Four hours earlier, neither of them imagined the day ending like this. The morning had started with champagne.
Williams, O’Brien and Associates had won a nationally prominent corporate case, and the phones wouldn’t stop ringing with new clients. When the senior partners called a general meeting, Meline walked to the conference room with the posture of someone who already knew she deserved recognition. Lucas arrived from the other hallway. They locked eyes at the door.
Neither yielded passage. “Ladies first,” he said. “Go ahead,” she replied without hesitation. Richard Williams, the founding partner, gave a speech about dedication and the firm’s bright future.
Meline listened attentively, waiting for her name to be mentioned. “And that’s why,” Williams continued, “we’ve decided this is the right time to announce something important. A partnership position will open in the coming months. ”
The air thickened.
Meline felt her heart race. Beside her, Lucas straightened almost imperceptibly. “The lawyer who stands out the most during this period will be invited to join the partners of this firm. ”
Meline didn’t look at Lucas.
She didn’t need to. She knew exactly what he was thinking because she was thinking the same thing. That position had her name written on it. And he certainly believed it had his.
The meeting was interrupted by a maintenance worker. There was a problem with the building’s electrical system, something about old wiring and safety regulations. The office would need to be evacuated for an emergency renovation lasting at least two weeks. They’d secured an emergency partnership with Workspace Central, Chicago’s busiest co-working space, and everyone would work there during the renovation.
Due to limited space, some people would need to share workstations. Margaret Collins, the executive assistant, began circulating with a clipboard. “Crawford and Whitfield,” Margaret said. “You’ve been assigned to station 27.
”
“Shared? The two of us? ” Meline asked. “In the same space,” Lucas confirmed with an expression suggesting he knew exactly what she was doing.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to adapt. ”
Station 27 was a nightmare: a narrow counter with two cramped chairs, a single power outlet they had to fight over, and a low divider that offered no privacy. The noise of the co-working space was constant, but nothing compared to the tension between them. “Are you going to stare at me all day, or do you plan to work?
” Meline asked, opening her laptop. “I was just admiring how you managed to occupy three-quarters of the counter with your things. Maybe if you didn’t bring physical folders like we were in 1990, there would be more space. ”
“Some of us prefer traditional methods.
”
“Some of us prefer efficiency. ”
Meline went to the cafeteria and came back with a glass of water. Lucas had ordered an orange juice. They worked in silence for almost an hour.
Then the water slipped, and the juice flew in retaliation. Two weeks of forced coexistence began. At the end of that first day, while Meline was packing her things, she noticed something strange. A messenger had delivered a brown envelope to Margaret Collins, who took it to a reserved room in the back.
The partners exchanged meaningful looks before putting the envelope away without explanation. Meline frowned. Something was happening that she couldn’t identify, some secret operating behind the scenes. But at that moment, her priority was surviving the next two weeks.
The war against Lucas Whitfield was just beginning. —
Lucas was smiling, and that could only mean one thing: trouble. Meline watched him from the other side of the counter, phone to his ear, closing what seemed to be an important deal. When he hung up, he didn’t try to hide his satisfaction.
“I just closed a quarterly consulting contract with Henderson Industries. ”
“Congratulations,” Meline replied without taking her eyes off the computer. “I closed the early renewal with Davies twenty minutes ago, but I didn’t find it necessary to announce it. ”
Lucas tilted his head.
“Davies? The one who was considering going to the competition? ”
“That’s the one. Sometimes all it takes is a well-structured proposal and a bit of competence.
”
“Interesting choice of words—a bit of competence. ”
“I calibrate according to the audience. ”
He opened his mouth to respond, but Margaret Collins appeared beside the station with her clipboard. “Mr.
Williams requested a detailed report of your activities. Tasks completed, methods applied, results obtained. Deadline by noon tomorrow. ”
“That’s not standard procedure,” Meline observed.
“It is now. ” Margaret walked away. They remained silent for a moment. “They’re evaluating us,” Lucas said quietly.
“Brilliant deduction. ”
“I’m trying to be collaborative here. ”
“And I’m trying to work. One of us is succeeding.
”
The following morning brought a surprise: Mr. O’Brien showed up without warning, circulating between stations like someone doing a casual inspection. When he reached station 27, he stopped. “How is the experience of sharing the space going?
”
“Educational,” Meline replied. “Revealing,” Lucas added. O’Brien wrote something in his notebook. “Very interesting.
” He murmured and walked away. “You just criticized me in front of a partner,” Lucas said when he was out of hearing range. “I made an observation about work methods. If you felt criticized, perhaps it’s time to update yours.
”
“Or perhaps it’s time for you to learn that not everything needs to be a competition. ”
“That coming from the man who announced his contract like he was raising a flag. ”
“I shared good news. You turned it into a dispute.
”
“I just put it in context. ”
Lucas stared at her for a long moment. There was something in his look she couldn’t decipher—irritation, certainly, but also something that seemed almost like admiration. “You’re impossible,” he finally said.
“Thank you. I try hard. ”
—
In the middle of the afternoon, both were called for a video conference with Williams. The connection was bad, so they shared the same meeting room, each at one end of the table.
“I want to know how you evaluate each other’s performance,” Williams said without beating around the bush. Silence. “Crawford, you start. ”
Meline took a deep breath.
The temptation to destroy Lucas was enormous, but she was too smart to fall for that obvious trap. “Mr. Whitfield is a competent professional. His methods are different from mine, but he delivers consistent results.
”
Lucas couldn’t hide his surprise. “Whitfield, your turn. ”
“Miss Crawford is extremely capable. We disagree on practically everything, but I can’t deny that she knows what she’s doing.
”
“Interesting. You can get back to work. ” The screen went black. Meline and Lucas looked at each other.
“That was a test,” she said. “Obviously. ”
“Do you think we passed? ”
“I think we still don’t know what the rules of the game are.
”
When they returned to the station, Meline noticed Williams talking to a man she didn’t recognize. A phrase reached her: “The results from the other state arrived tomorrow. We need to analyze them before deciding. ”
Other state?
She looked at Lucas, who had also heard the same confusion. At the end of the day, another brown envelope was delivered to the partners’ room. Through the glass, Meline saw Williams read the contents, show them to O’Brien, and exchange serious looks before locking everything away. “How many envelopes have there been?
” Lucas asked. “That’s the third one I’ve counted. And no explanation. ”
“None.
”
They watched the partners through the glass. “Do you think this competition is just between the two of us? ” Lucas asked. Meline didn’t answer.
For the first time, she felt something was happening behind the scenes that they couldn’t see. —
The next morning, Meline was at a client’s office across town when his assistant handed her a folder. “Your firm sent this as reference for the meeting. Excellent material.
”
Meline flipped through the pages with growing confusion. It was a brilliant legal analysis, so well-structured she would be proud to sign it. But she didn’t recognize the style. It wasn’t hers.
It wasn’t Lucas’s. It wasn’t from anyone she knew. “Who prepared this report? ” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“I can’t say. It came directly from the partners. They only said it was from someone on the team. ”
Two hours later, Meline was back at the co-working space, the mysterious report inside her bag.
Lucas was already at station 27. “Do you know this material? ” she asked bluntly, placing the document in front of him. Lucas examined it.
“Never seen it before. Why? ”
“It was used as reference in a meeting of mine today. Nobody knows who wrote it.
Doesn’t that seem strange? ”
Lucas flipped through a few more pages. “It’s competent work. But it’s not my style.
Whoever wrote this plays it too safe. ”
“Interesting. I thought exactly the opposite. ”
“That I play it too safe?
”
“That you’ve never met a conclusion you didn’t want to exaggerate. ”
He smiled—that irritating smile she was beginning to know too well. Before he could respond, Meline’s phone rang. It was Margaret Collins.
“You both need to go to Mr. Harrington’s office in forty minutes. He’s unhappy with how his case is progressing. Williams wants you to present a united front.
”
Meline looked at Lucas. “Is Harrington your client or mine? ”
“Technically the firm’s. But I brought him in and structured the strategy.
”
“So we’re going to have to pretend we can stand each other for a few hours. ”
“I don’t know if my acting ability is that good. ”
—
Theodore Harrington was known for being demanding, impatient, and extremely difficult to please. When Meline and Lucas entered his office, he didn’t even stand to greet them.
“I want to know why my case has been stalled for two weeks. ”
Lucas opened his mouth, but Meline was faster. “Mr. Harrington, the case isn’t stalled.
It’s in a phase of strategic consolidation. Each day of apparent inactivity is preparation for a stronger move. ”
“That sounds like a sophisticated excuse for inertia. ”
“With all due respect,” Lucas intervened, “if we wanted to make excuses, we would have chosen something less elaborate.
Cases like yours require precision. Hasty moves can cost more than strategic patience. ”
Meline almost looked at him in surprise. It was exactly what she would have said.
“And how much longer will this strategic patience last? ” Harrington asked. “Less than you imagine,” Meline replied. “We’re finalizing an approach that will change the course of the dispute.
”
Harrington looked from one to the other. “I thought you two couldn’t stand each other. ”
Silence. “Where did you get that idea?
” Lucas asked. “The legal market is small. People talk. ”
Meline and Lucas exchanged a glance.
For a fraction of a second, a silent understanding passed between them. “You know how rumors are,” Meline said softly. “People love to create narratives where none exist. ”
“Exactly,” Lucas agreed.
“Actually, we work very well together. ”
“Our differences in style are complementary. ”
“I bring the creativity. ”
“And I bring the structure.
Together we cover all the angles. ”
Harrington observed them for a long moment. Then, for the first time, something like a smile appeared on his face. “Did you rehearse this?
”
“No,” they both answered at the same time. And this time, it was true. The meeting lasted another hour. At some point, without either of them noticing exactly when, the answers began to complement each other naturally.
Lucas would start a sentence; Meline would finish it. She would present an argument; he would reinforce it with examples. When they left the building, the sun was already setting. “That was—” Lucas began.
“Strange,” Meline completed. “I was going to say efficient. ”
“It was also strange. ”
They walked in silence for a few meters.
“That report without a signature,” Lucas said suddenly. “Don’t you think it’s odd that nobody knows who wrote it? ”
“Every time I think about it, I reach conclusions that don’t make sense. ”
“Like…?
”
Meline stopped and looked at him. “Like the possibility of someone working on firm cases that we don’t even know about. ”
Lucas fell silent. The same idea had clearly crossed his mind.
—
That night, Meline reread the mysterious report once more. On the last page, almost invisible in the lower corner, was a single word she hadn’t noticed before: the letter B. Meline spent the entire night thinking about that initial. Now, standing in the O’Hare airport lobby with a rolling suitcase, she watched Lucas approach with a coffee in hand.
“Sleep well? ” he asked. “Wonderfully. You?
”
“Perfectly. ”
Both were lying, and both knew it. Williams had called the night before: an important client in New York needed urgent in-person service, and the complexity of the case required complementary knowledge. Translation: Meline and Lucas would have to work together outside of Chicago.
“At least we’ll have more space than at station 27,” Lucas commented as they entered the boarding line. “A jail cell would have more space than station 27. ”
“Are you comparing our work environment to a prison? ”
“I’m making an architectural observation.
”
The flight passed in productive silence. Meline reviewed documents. Lucas made notes. When they landed, the designated driver was nowhere to be found.
“The organization of this trip is impeccable,” Meline observed. “Maybe it’s a test of adaptability. ”
“Or of patience. In that case, you’ve already lost.
You’ve been complaining since we landed. ”
“Making pertinent observations isn’t complaining. It’s stating facts. ”
They shared a taxi.
Traffic turned twenty minutes into almost two hours. At some point between the Triboro Bridge and downtown Manhattan, the silence began to feel heavy. “What do you think that letter on the report means? ” Lucas asked.
“It could be an initial. An internal code. A formatting error. ”
“You don’t believe it’s an error?
”
“No. Do you? ”
“Me neither. Someone wanted to leave a mark without leaving a signature.
”
“Why? ”
“That’s the right question. ”
—
The client was Richard Donovan, a businessman with a reputation for turning lawyers into former lawyers when he didn’t like the results. An old contractual error had resurfaced on the eve of an important merger.
“Explain how this happened,” Donovan demanded. “Mr. Donovan,” Meline replied, “the origin of the error is less relevant than its correction. We can investigate responsibilities later.
Now, we need to focus on ensuring this merger happens. ”
“The error exists,” Lucas completed. “The solution does too. The difference between success and failure is the time it takes us to go from one to the other.
”
Donovan studied them for a moment. “Do you two always finish each other’s sentences? ”
“No,” they both answered simultaneously. The meeting stretched for hours.
Clauses were reviewed, risks mapped, solutions built. At some point, Meline realized she had stopped fighting against Lucas and started working with him. It was unsettling. During a break, Lucas approached her.
“Page 43. The termination clause. The wording allows for ambiguous interpretation. If the other party has competent lawyers, they’ll exploit it.
”
She reread it. He was right. “How did you identify that? ”
“I read the entire contract twice on the plane, while you were pretending not to watch me.
”
“I wasn’t watching you. ”
“You looked in my direction fourteen times. ”
“I was looking out the window. ”
“You were in the aisle seat.
”
Meline had no answer for that. The correction was made in time. Donovan signed the documents with something like satisfaction. “I must admit I’m impressed.
Your synergy is remarkable. ”
“Thank you,” Meline said. “We work well under pressure. ”
“Separately,” Lucas added.
“In parallel,” she corrected. “In the same general direction,” he concluded. “Accidentally,” she finished. Donovan raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
—
At the hotel that night, Meline received a message from Margaret Collins: “Urgent envelope arrived. Partners meeting early tomorrow. ” She was rereading it when she heard a knock on the door. Lucas was in the hallway, holding her pen.
“You dropped this at the reception. ”
“Thank you. ”
He didn’t leave. She didn’t close the door.
“Did you get Margaret’s message? ” he asked. “About the envelope? That one?
I did. ”
“Do you think it’s related to the report? ”
“I think it’s related to a lot of things we’re not seeing. ”
The hallway was silent.
The distance between them seemed to have decreased without either of them moving. “Today was different,” Meline said. “It was. We worked well together.
Strangely well. ”
“Does that bother you? ”
Lucas thought for a moment. “More than I expected.
”
“Why? ”
“Because it would be easier if you were just unbearable. ”
“And I’m not? ”
“Not just that.
”
Meline felt something shift in the air between them, something that didn’t have a name yet. “Good night, Whitfield. ”
“Good night, Crawford. ”
The door closed.
Meline stood in the same place for a long moment, processing a conversation that seemed to have said much more than the words suggested. In the next room, Lucas looked at the wall that separated them, doing exactly the same thing. The next morning, when they met at the hotel café, neither mentioned the previous night’s conversation. But when their eyes met for a second longer than necessary, both knew that something had changed.
—
It was 11 p. m. Still in New York, still waiting, Meline stared at the hotel lobby ceiling. Beside her, Lucas flipped through the same magazine for what seemed like the tenth time.
Donovan had promised a final answer by 9. “Do you think he’s making us wait on purpose? ” Meline asked. “Probably.
It’s a negotiation tactic against his own lawyers. Some clients like to remind people who pays the bills. ”
The hotel bar had closed at 10. “I would love a coffee right now,” Meline murmured.
“There’s a vending machine on the second floor. I walked the hallways while you were on the phone with Margaret. ”
“Nighttime hotel exploration. Interesting hobby.
”
“I have many layers. ”
“I’m starting to notice. ”
Lucas stood up. “I’m going to get coffee.
You want some? ”
Meline hesitated. Accepting coffee from Lucas Whitfield seemed like a dangerous precedent. “Black, no sugar.
”
“Why am I not surprised? ”
He returned ten minutes later with two steaming cups. The coffee was terrible, but hot. At that moment, it was enough.
“Thank you,” Meline said, and for the first time, it sounded genuine. “You’re welcome. ”
They drank in silence for a moment—the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. “Can I ask you a personal question?
” Meline finally said. “Depends on the level. ”
“Why law? ”
Lucas raised an eyebrow.
“That’s personal. ”
“Career choice says a lot about who we are. ”
He looked at his coffee as if the answer were inside it. “My father worked in a factory—thirty years in the same place.
One day they fired him without warning, without proper compensation, without explanation. He didn’t have the resources to fight. He didn’t know anyone who could help. He just accepted it.
”
“And you decided that wouldn’t happen to other people. ”
“Something like that. And you? ”
Meline took a deep breath.
“My mother had a small bakery. The landlord decided to triple the rent overnight. She lost everything—no legal recourse with options she didn’t know existed. I found out about it years later, in college.
Too late. ”
Lucas nodded slowly. “So we’re both here for the same reason: to prevent others from going through what our families went through. ”
“It seems so.
”
He smiled—a genuine smile without irony. “You’re not what I expected, Crawford. ”
“What did you expect? ”
“Someone less human.
”
“And you’re not what I expected either. ”
“Which would be? ”
“Someone less understandable. ”
His eyes met hers.
The air seemed to grow denser. The empty lobby suddenly seemed smaller. “Meline,” he said—the first time he used her first name. “Lucas.
”
The distance between them had decreased without either noticing. Meline could feel his warmth, see the details of a face she’d never observed up close. He leaned in. She didn’t pull back.
Lucas’s phone rang. The moment shattered. He looked at the screen, frowned, and read the message in silence. His expression changed.
“What is it? ”
“A message from Margaret. Important developments out of state. The partners are satisfied with the results.
”
Meline felt something freeze inside her. “Out of state? ”
“They said results from out of state. ”
“Did you know anything about this?
”
“No. ”
“Why would I? ”
“Because the message came to you, not to me. ”
Lucas looked confused—or pretended very well.
“That’s strange. ”
“It’s more than strange. It’s convenient. ”
“What are you insinuating?
”
“That maybe this whole trip was more strategic than I imagined. ”
“You think I planned this? ”
“You were very collaborative. Very friendly.
” The words came out like an accusation. Lucas stepped back, his expression hardening. “A moment ago, we were talking like normal people. Now you think it was all manipulation?
”
“I don’t know what to think. ”
The silence that followed was completely different from the previous one. Heavy. Cutting.
“Maybe it’s better if we wait for Donovan’s answer separately,” Meline said. “Maybe it is. ”
She stood and walked toward the elevator. Halfway there, she stopped.
“If you’re playing on two fronts, Lucas, I’ll find out. ”
“And if I’m not? ”
Meline didn’t answer. The elevator door closed between them.
In the lobby, Lucas stood looking at the empty space where she’d been, the message still glowing on his phone screen, something not making sense. —
The flight back to Chicago was the quietest in the history of commercial aviation. Meline sat by the window. Lucas sat in the aisle.
Three empty seats between them like a no-man’s-land neither dared to cross. The next morning, Meline arrived at the co-working space before everyone else, deliberately avoiding time with Lucas. She dove into work with almost desperate intensity, accepting three new cases before noon. “Crawford.
” O’Brien’s voice made her look up. “I heard you took on the Peton case. ”
“I did. ”
“Whitfield also expressed interest in it.
”
“He expressed interest after I had already accepted it. ”
“Are you sure? ”
“Absolutely. ”
Fifteen minutes later, Lucas appeared at station 27.
No greeting. “Peton was mine,” he said simply. “Peton belongs to whoever gets there first. ”
“I spoke with him last week.
”
“Talking isn’t signing a contract. You knew I was working on this. ”
“I’m not obligated to monitor your schedule. ”
Lucas sat with more force than necessary.
“Great. So that’s how it’s going to be. ”
“How? ”
“Open war.
”
“It was always war. You were just distracted. ”
The provocation hit its mark. Lucas opened his laptop and began typing with an intensity that suggested each key was an enemy to be defeated.
The following days were brutal. They competed over everything: clients, meeting rooms, time slots with partners, even the last coffee from the pot. It was exhausting and absurd, but neither could stop. “Crawford, you reserved the conference room for 3:00?
” Margaret asked. “I did. ”
“Whitfield also reserved it at the same time. ”
“Impossible.
The system doesn’t allow duplicates. ”
“There was a glitch. You’re both scheduled. ”
Meline and Lucas looked at each other from across the room.
“I reserved first,” she said. “I have a client meeting,” he replied. “I also have a client meeting. ”
“Then one of us will have to give in.
”
“I agree. You can start. ”
Margaret sighed. “You have ten minutes to resolve this.
After that, I’ll flip a coin. ”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Beneath the anger, there was something more—something neither wanted to acknowledge. “We can split the room,” Meline suggested.
“Half the time each. ”
“That would require cooperation. ”
“I know it’s horrible, but it’s practical. ”
Lucas considered.
“One hour each? ”
“One hour each. ”
“Who gets the first slot? ”
“Rock, paper, scissors.
”
“You’re kidding. ”
“Got a better idea? ”
He didn’t. Meline won.
Lucas got the second hour. “That was luck,” he said. “That was strategy. You always choose rock.
”
“How do you know that? ”
“I pay attention. ”
The phrase hung in the air for a second longer than comfortable. —
That afternoon, Williams called a brief meeting.
“The evaluation results are being compiled. The decision about the partner position will be announced soon. ”
Meline looked at Lucas. He looked at her for the first time in days.
There was something besides hostility in his eyes. There was fear. At the end of the day, another envelope arrived. Meline watched Margaret receive it and take it directly to the partners’ room.
Through the glass, she saw Williams open it, read it, and show it to O’Brien. They exchanged serious looks. “How many envelopes have there been? ” Lucas asked beside her.
“I lost count. ”
“What do you think is in them? ”
“I don’t know. But every time one arrives, the partners get stranger.
”
“Meline,” Lucas said quietly. She felt a shiver—he rarely used her first name. “What? ”
“About New York.
I don’t want to talk about New York. ”
“I know. But I need you to know that I wasn’t playing games. That conversation was real.
”
Meline didn’t respond. She didn’t trust her own voice. “You don’t have to believe me,” he continued. “But it was important that I said it.
”
That night, while gathering her things to leave, Meline noticed something. The drawer where Williams had stored the envelope was slightly open. Inside, partially visible, was a name she didn’t recognize: Oliver Blackwood. —
Meline repeated the name mentally all night.
She knew all the lawyers at the firm. All of them. And that name didn’t exist in her memory. The next morning, before she could investigate, Williams called a general meeting.
“I want to congratulate the team on the brilliant strategy in the Whitmore case. The approach was innovative and extremely effective. ”
Meline frowned. She hadn’t worked on that case.
She looked at Lucas, who seemed equally confused. “Mr. Williams,” Lucas raised his hand, “who developed that strategy? ”
“The team,” Williams replied vaguely.
“What’s important is the result. ”
The meeting ended without clarification. Meline and Lucas returned to station 27 with the same question in their eyes. Meline pretended to type a report, but on her screen she opened a notepad and typed one sentence.
She slid the laptop slightly so Lucas could see it: Who is Oliver Blackwood? He stopped typing immediately. Without saying anything, Lucas opened his physical folder, the one she always criticized. He flipped through documents until he found one mentioning results in another state.
With a pen, he discreetly circled the city of origin: Denver. Meline nodded almost imperceptibly. No words were exchanged. None needed to be.
At lunchtime, Meline ran into Thomas Reed, a junior lawyer from the Boston branch. “Heard about the case our people solved in Denver,” Reed said. “Complex intellectual property case. One of our lawyers spent weeks there.
Important victory. ”
“Which lawyer? ”
“I don’t know the name. Just heard comments.
Someone from the main office, supposedly. ”
Denver—the same city Lucas had circled. Meline returned to the station with her mind racing. “Reed confirmed Denver,” she murmured almost inaudibly.
“Weeks of work. Nobody knows who. ”
“First the unsigned report, then the envelopes, now Denver—and a name nobody knows,” Lucas said. Before they could continue, Margaret appeared with a serious expression.
“Crawford, Whitfield. The partners want to see you now. ”
—
The meeting room was strangely formal. Williams on one side, O’Brien on the other, two empty chairs waiting.
“It has come to our attention that you’ve been asking questions about internal firm matters,” Williams began. “Questions about cases, about colleagues, about information that doesn’t directly concern you,” O’Brien added. “Curiosity is an admirable quality,” Williams continued. “But in excess, it can be counterproductive.
We wouldn’t want distractions to affect your performance. Especially now. ”
“Especially now? ” Lucas asked.
“The decision about the partnership will be announced soon. It would be a shame if noise interfered with the evaluation. ”
Meline felt a chill. This wasn’t just a warning.
It was an order to stop investigating. “Understood,” she said. “Perfectly clear,” Lucas added. In the hallway, they walked in silence until far enough away.
“They know we’re suspicious,” Meline whispered. “More than that—they want us to stop. Which means there’s something to find. The question is whether it’s worth the risk.
”
Meline thought about the name Oliver Blackwood, the envelopes, Denver—everything that didn’t make sense. The next morning, she saw Williams in a video conference. The screen was partially visible through the glass: a man she didn’t recognize, and in the lower corner of the screen, a name. Oliver Blackwood.
—
The next morning, chaos began before the coffee got cold. “Crawford, the Peton contract has an error in the confidentiality clause. ” Margaret announced, appearing at station 27. “The kind the client noticed before we did.
”
Meline grabbed the document. A typing error had changed the entire meaning of a clause: confidentiality for five years had turned into five months. “That’s impossible. I reviewed it three times.
”
“Apparently, that wasn’t enough. ”
Lucas had the wisdom not to comment. For thirty seconds. “It happens to everyone,” he finally said.
“Thanks for the solidarity. Very comforting. ”
“I was being sincere. ”
“And I was being sarcastic.
”
The day didn’t improve. Two hours later, it was Lucas’s turn. “Mr. Henderson called,” O’Brien appeared.
“It seems you missed the deadline to file the response. ”
Lucas went pale. “That’s impossible. The deadline is tomorrow.
”
“It was yesterday. ”
“I never confuse dates. ”
“First time for everything. ”
They looked at each other.
For the first time, there was something besides competition in their eyes. There was recognition. Both were falling apart, and both knew it. The pressure of the last few weeks—sleepless nights, skipped meals, constant scrutiny—was too much even for the best professionals.
In the middle of the afternoon, Williams called an emergency meeting. An envelope was on the table marked MAXIMUM PRIORITY. “The results of the case in Denver were significant,” Williams began. “The decision about the partnership will be accelerated.
The announcement will be made next week. ”
One week. Seven days to prove their worth while making basic mistakes they never would have made under normal circumstances. Later, in the break area, Meline stood with her terrible coffee.
Lucas appeared. “Do you think we’re going to lose? ” she asked. “Lose what?
”
“Everything. The position, credibility, the job. ”
Lucas didn’t respond immediately. “I think we’re so focused on competing with each other that we forgot about the rest.
”
“About New York,” Meline began. “I already said I wasn’t playing games. ”
“I know. But I never said whether I believed you.
”
Lucas looked at her. “I want to believe. But every time I let my guard down, something happens that makes me doubt. Like Margaret’s message.
Like the partners acting as if they know something we don’t. ”
“Do you think I’m involved? ”
“I think I don’t know who to trust anymore. ”
“Including yourself?
” Lucas asked. Meline didn’t respond because the answer was yes. “We’re both losing control,” he said quietly. “This isn’t coincidence.
”
“What are you suggesting? ”
“That maybe this is exactly what they want—put us under pressure until we break. ”
“And what do we do? ”
“Stop fighting each other.
At least until we understand what’s happening. ”
“Would this be a truce? ”
“This would be survival. ”
She looked at him for a long moment.
The Lucas she knew would never propose something like this. But the Lucas in front of her seemed as lost as she was. “One week,” she finally said. “One week.
”
It wasn’t an agreement. It wasn’t trust. But it was a start. —
That night, Meline received a message from an unknown number.
Just three words: You don’t know anything. The next morning, Lucas appeared with dark circles revealing a night as bad as hers. “Did you get it too? ”
“The message?
Yes. ”
“Any idea who sent it? ”
“None. ”
They sat at station 27, but neither opened their laptop.
“We need to find out who Oliver Blackwood is,” Meline said quietly. “I agree. But how? The partners made it clear they don’t want questions.
”
“Then we don’t ask. We investigate. ”
The plan was simple: Meline would distract Margaret while Lucas accessed the human resources system. It wasn’t ethical.
It wasn’t professional. It was probably grounds for dismissal. But they were too desperate to care. Meline approached Margaret with her most convincing smile.
“Can I ask a question about the quarterly report filing procedure? ”
Margaret looked suspicious. “You’ve never been interested in filing before. ”
“I’m trying to become a more well-rounded professional.
”
On the other side of the room, Lucas sat at a computer, his fingers moving quickly over the keyboard. Margaret explained details Meline would never use. Meline nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm, watching Lucas out of the corner of her eye. Finally, Lucas stood up and made a discreet signal.
He had something. At station 27, Lucas showed his phone: a photo of the employee registry. Oliver Blackwood, senior attorney. Location: Denver, Colorado.
Hired the same year as Meline and Lucas. “He joined the firm with us,” Meline said, incredulous. “And nobody ever mentioned it in three years? How is that possible?
”
Lucas scrolled to another photo: an impressive list of cases, significant victories, high-profile clients—all conducted quietly, far from Chicago. “He’s good,” Meline admitted. “He’s very good. And he’s competing for the same position as us.
”
The penny finally dropped. All the competition between them, all the provocations, all the sleepless nights trying to outdo each other—and all along, there was a third player they didn’t even know existed. “The partners knew,” Lucas said. “Of course they knew.
They planned this. ”
“But why? ”
“Pressure test. They wanted to see how we’d behave under extreme stress.
And we fell for it perfectly—fighting each other while the real competitor worked in peace. ”
The silence was heavy. All the rivalry of the past months now seemed absurd. Wasted energy fighting the wrong person.
“I feel like a complete—” Lucas stopped. “Fool? I was going to say something stronger, but fool works. ”
“That makes two of us, then.
”
They stood looking at Oliver Blackwood’s photo—a man neither of them knew, who would probably win the position they both wanted so much. “What do we do now? ” Lucas asked. “I don’t know.
For the first time, I’m not sure of anything. ”
“You know what’s ironic? ” Lucas said. “We spent weeks trying to destroy each other.
And in the end, the enemy wasn’t even in the room. ”
“Technically, you’re not my enemy. ”
“I’m not? ”
“You’re my rival.
There’s a difference. ”
“Which is? ”
“Enemies you want to see fail. Rivals you want to overcome.
But deep down, you respect them. ”
Lucas looked at her differently. “That was almost a compliment. ”
“Don’t get used to it.
”
“Too late. ”
—
That afternoon, Williams called another meeting—just Meline and Lucas. “I imagine you’ve already found out,” he said without beating around the bush. “Oliver Blackwood,” Meline confirmed.
“You’re more persistent than I expected. That’s good. ”
“Why didn’t you tell us from the beginning? ” Lucas asked.
“Because it wasn’t relevant. You were competing against yourselves. You always were. Oliver was just an external variable.
”
“A variable who might win the position,” Meline said. “Might or might not. The decision hasn’t been made yet. ”
O’Brien, who had remained silent, finally spoke.
“What we observed in recent weeks was revealing. You both have extraordinary qualities, but you also have significant blind spots. You spend too much energy fighting each other. Imagine what you could achieve if you worked together.
”
“The announcement will be tomorrow,” Williams concluded. “Rest. You’re going to need it. ”
Outside, Meline and Lucas walked in silence.
“Work together,” Lucas repeated. “Do you think they’re suggesting something? ”
“I think they’re testing us until the last second. ”
“What if we just stopped playing their game?
”
Meline stopped walking. “What do you mean? ”
Lucas looked at her. “What if, regardless of tomorrow’s result, we did things differently?
”
Before she could answer, her phone vibrated. A message from an unknown number: Congratulations on finding out. See you tomorrow. —
Oliver Blackwood’s message still glowed on Meline’s phone.
Lucas stood beside her on the sidewalk, not knowing exactly what to do with that information. “I need a drink,” Meline said. “It’s 6 p. m.
”
“So what? ”
“So what? I completely agree. ”
They walked without a destination, passing elegant restaurants and crowded cafés.
Nothing felt right. Then they heard the music: an off-key voice singing an ’80s ballad from an establishment with neon lights. The sign said LUCKY VOICE KARAOKE BAR. “No,” Meline said immediately.
“Why not? ”
“Because it’s a karaoke bar. ”
“Exactly. Drinks and free entertainment.
”
“Entertainment is a generous word for drunk people singing off-key. ”
“Do you have a better suggestion? ”
She didn’t. “All right.
But I’m not singing. ”
“Nobody asked you to sing. ”
“I’m making it clear right now. ”
Inside, purple and blue lighting, a small stage, screens displaying lyrics, and a long counter.
They found two stools in the corner—proximity inevitable, shoulders almost touching. “What’ll it be? ” the bartender asked. “Whiskey, straight,” Lucas said.
“Gin and tonic,” Meline added. On stage, a middle-aged man finished an enthusiastic but painful version of a classic rock song. “This is wonderful,” Lucas said, genuinely amused. “This is auditory suffering.
”
“You don’t know how to appreciate art. ”
“This isn’t art. This is a crime against music. ”
The drinks arrived.
Meline took a generous sip and felt her shoulders relax for the first time in weeks. “So,” Lucas began, “Oliver Blackwood. ”
“Can we not talk about that for five minutes? ”
“What do you want to talk about then?
”
“Anything. The weather. That gentleman’s questionable vocal technique. ”
“What’s your biggest fear?
”
“My biggest fear? That’s a valid question. ”
Lucas thought for a moment. “Mediocrity.
The idea of going through life without leaving any mark—doing everything right and still being forgotten. ”
Meline didn’t expect such an honest answer. “That’s surprisingly deep for a karaoke bar. ”
“Hope the whiskey helps.
And you? ”
She swirled her glass between her fingers. “Depending on someone. Emotionally, financially, in any way.
The idea of needing another person to be complete. ”
“That explains a lot about you. ”
“What does that mean? ”
“You’ve built very high walls, Crawford.
”
“Walls protect me. ”
“Walls also isolate. ”
The phrase hung in the air. Meline had no answer.
On stage, a woman began a romantic song from the ’90s. She was slightly off-key but made up for it with dramatic enthusiasm. “Is she crying? ” Meline asked.
“I think it’s the emotion of the song. Or the alcohol. ”
“Probably both. ”
“I used to sing in the shower,” Lucas said out of nowhere.
“Everyone sings in the shower. ”
“No, I really sang. With choreography. Rehearsed moves, facial expression, the whole package.
”
Meline almost spit out her drink. “Please tell me there’s a video of this. ”
“There is, and it’s dying with me. ”
“That’s unfair.
You can’t mention something like that and not show it. ”
“I can, and I will. ”
The bartender passed, offering another round. They accepted.
“Karaoke time! ” the host shouted. “Who’s the next brave one? ”
A woman at the next table pointed directly at Lucas.
“This one here! He says he sings very well. ”
Lucas’s eyes widened. “I never said anything like that.
”
“Go on, handsome! ” the woman insisted, clearly a few drinks beyond recommended. The audience started clapping. Meline covered her mouth to hide her laughter.
“You’re not going to,” Lucas said. “I’m not going to what? ”
“Make me go up on that stage. ”
“I’m not doing anything.
The audience is asking. ”
“Meline. ”
“Lucas. Is this revenge for something?
”
“This is free entertainment. You said so yourself. ”
He stared at her for a long moment. Then, to Meline’s absolute surprise, he stood up from the stool.
“If I’m going to embarrass myself, at least it’ll be memorable. ”
He went up to enthusiastic applause, grabbed the microphone with a confidence Meline didn’t expect. The music started—a classic ballad—and then Lucas opened his mouth. He could sing.
Not just could. He was genuinely good. His voice was steady, in tune, with an emotion that made the entire bar stop to listen. Meline’s mouth dropped open.
When he finished, the applause was deafening. Lucas took an ironic bow and returned to the counter. “You,” Meline said, “are a box of surprises. ”
“I warned you I had choreography.
”
“Why did you never mention you could sing? ”
“It never seemed relevant to office disputes. ”
“What else are you hiding? ”
“A lot.
You’ll have to find out gradually. ”
The phrase was charged with something neither wanted to name yet. The bar continued noisy around them, but there in that corner, there was only the two of them. Lucas extended his hand and touched hers—a simple gesture, fingers intertwined on the warm wood of the counter.
Meline looked at their joined hands, then at him. “This is a terrible idea,” she said quietly. “Probably. We work together.
”
“Technically, we compete together. Tomorrow, we’ll find out who won the position. ”
“I know. ”
Neither let go of the other’s hand.
“I want to kiss you,” Lucas said simply. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t. ”
Meline’s heart raced. The noise of the bar disappeared.
“Here? ” she asked. “Is there a better place? ”
She should pull back.
Think about the consequences. Remember all the reasons why this would complicate everything. Instead, she leaned in. The kiss started soft, hesitant, as if both still expected the other to pull away.
When that didn’t happen, it became deeper—years of tension dissolving in a single moment. Someone in the bar whistled. They ignored it. When they separated, Meline was breathless.
“This complicates everything. ”
“I know. ”
“And tomorrow? ”
Lucas held her face tenderly.
“Tomorrow we’ll find out together. ”
They left the bar holding hands. On the sidewalk, he kissed her again without hesitation. That night, Meline lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
She was in love with Lucas Whitfield, and for the first time, that didn’t seem like a problem. It felt like the beginning of something. —
Meline woke to the sound of rain hitting the window. Chicago’s sky was gray and heavy, as if it knew this day would be decisive.
Her phone vibrated. A message from him: Sleep well? She smiled before responding: No. You?
Me neither. See you at the office. The office, not the co-working space. The renovation had finished two days earlier, and everyone had returned to the main building.
It seemed appropriate that the announcement would happen there, where it all began. When she arrived, Lucas was already in the lobby, wearing the same suit from the first day—the one she’d deliberately wet with water. “Nice suit,” she said. “Thank you.
It survived a water attack a few weeks ago. ”
“Accidents happen. ”
“Of course they do. ”
They smiled—the kind of smile that carries history.
In the elevator, they stood in silence. When the doors opened, Margaret Collins was waiting. “The meeting starts in ten minutes. Main conference room.
”
“Thank you, Margaret,” Meline said. “And congratulations to you both. Regardless of the result. ”
The phrase was strange.
Margaret was never this nice. The conference room was full. Williams and O’Brien at the head, and beside them, a man Meline recognized immediately: Oliver Blackwood. He was younger than she imagined—dark hair, intelligent eyes, confident without arrogance.
“Thank you all for being here,” Williams began. “We have reached a decision about the new partnership position. ”
Meline felt Lucas move subtly closer. His shoulder touched hers—a small touch, but significant.
“We evaluated not only professional results,” O’Brien continued, “but also adaptability, work under pressure, and collaboration skills. ”
“All candidates demonstrated exceptional qualities,” Williams said. “Crawford and Whitfield in particular surprised us with their evolution throughout the process. ”
Meline held her breath.
“Therefore, we are pleased to announce that the new partner of Williams, O’Brien and Associates is Oliver Blackwood. ”
Polite applause filled the room. Oliver stood and accepted with a brief nod. Meline expected to feel anger, frustration, injustice—but she felt none of that.
She looked at Lucas. He looked back at her, and in that moment, without words, they understood the same thing. They had lost the position. But they hadn’t lost.
—
The meeting ended with speeches about the firm’s future. Meline barely heard any of it. When it finally ended, she stood and walked toward the exit. Lucas followed.
“Crawford. Whitfield. ” It was Oliver Blackwood. He extended his hand.
“I wanted to introduce myself formally. And say that you two were worthy adversaries. ”
“Thank you,” Meline replied, shaking his hand. “Congratulations.
”
“Well deserved,” Lucas added without sarcasm. Oliver smiled. “If it’s any consolation, the partners spoke very highly of you. They said they’d never seen such a competitive pair transform into something so functional.
”
“Functional? ” Meline repeated. “That’s the word they used. ”
“I would have chosen another.
”
“Which one? ”
“Interesting. ”
He walked away, leaving the word hanging in the air. Outside, the rain had increased.
Thick drops fell on the sidewalk, creating puddles that reflected the city lights. “And now? ” Lucas asked. “Now we get wet.
”
She went down the steps and walked into the rain without an umbrella, without protection. The water soaked her hair, her blazer, everything. Lucas watched for a moment, then did the same. “This is crazy,” he said, rain running down his face.
“Probably. ”
“We lost the position. ”
“We did. ”
“And you’re smiling.
”
She realized it was true. She was smiling. “I think I’m relieved. Relieved to not have to pretend anymore.
To not have to compete. To be able to simply be. ”
Lucas moved closer. The rain fell between them, but the distance decreased.
“What do you want to be? ” he asked. “I don’t know yet. But I know who I want to find out with.
”
He held her face. Raindrops ran down his fingers. “This is still a terrible idea,” he said. “The worst.
We’re going to regret it. ”
“Probably. ”
“How do you know? ”
“Because some things you just know.
”
He kissed her. It wasn’t like the kiss at the bar. That one had been a discovery. This was a certainty.
The rain kept falling. People passed with umbrellas, casting curious glances. None of that mattered. “What do we do now?
” Meline asked. “First, we find a dry place. And then—” Lucas looked at the office building, then at her. “Then we build something of our own.
”
Meline took his hand. “Then let’s start. ”
They walked together down the wet sidewalk, leaving the office behind. They didn’t know exactly where they were going, but for the first time, that didn’t seem like a problem.
It felt like an adventure. —
Lucas’s apartment was two blocks away. It was organized, but with personality: shelves full of books, a guitar leaning in the corner, a view of the city that sparkled even through the rain. “You play guitar?
” Meline asked. “Badly. But I like to try. ”
“First karaoke, now guitar.
How many secret talents do you have? ”
“You’ll have to stick around to find out. ”
He gave her a towel and an old gray t-shirt. She changed in the bathroom, then returned to find him in the kitchen heating milk.
“Hot chocolate,” he said. “Universal remedy for rainy nights. ”
He served two mugs. They went to the couch.
The rain continued beating on the windows. “Can I tell you something? ” Lucas said. “You’re full of confessions today.
”
“This one’s important. ”
“Then tell me. ”
He looked at his mug, then at her. “On the first day at the co-working space, when you spilled water on me, I was angry.
Really angry. But it wasn’t just anger. It was admiration. Nobody had ever confronted me like that.
Without fear. Without backing down. ”
“That impressed you? ”
“More than I wanted to admit.
”
Meline put her mug on the table. “You want to know when I knew I was in trouble? ”
“When? ”
“When you went up on that karaoke stage and sang like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You had nothing to prove, but you did it anyway. For fun. For courage. And that completely disarmed me.
”
The space between them on the couch had decreased without either noticing. “Meline. ”
“Lucas. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow with work, with our careers.
”
“I don’t either. But I know what I want now. ”
“What? ”
“To stay here with you.
Without thinking about anything else. ”
She didn’t respond with words. Instead, she moved closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Lucas put his arm around her, pulling her closer.
“Stay,” he said. “Stay here. ”
“I didn’t bring anything. ”
“You don’t need anything.
No expectations. No pressure. Just stay. ”
She lifted her head and looked at him.
In his eyes, she saw everything she needed to see: affection, respect, patience. “All right,” she said. “I’ll stay. ”
Later, lying in his bed, her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, Meline thought about how strange life was.
—
Six months later, Meline still couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The gold plaque on the door read CRAWFORD AND WHITFIELD LAW—elegant letters on a navy blue background, installed exactly fifteen minutes earlier by the technician gathering his tools in the hallway. “It’s crooked,” Lucas said. “It’s not crooked.
”
“Yes, it is. Look at the right corner. ”
“The right corner is perfect. You’re being biased because you chose the font.
”
“I chose the font because you wanted to use Comic Sans. ”
“It was a joke. ”
“It didn’t seem like a joke. ”
The technician looked from one to the other, decided it wasn’t his problem, took the payment, and left.
“Welcome to our office,” Lucas said, opening the door with a dramatic gesture. The space was small. Two desks, a meeting room that doubled as a break room, and a window overlooking an alley. It wasn’t glamorous.
It wasn’t imposing. It was perfect. “We need plants,” Meline said. “Plants die.
”
“Not if you take care of them. ”
“I can barely take care of myself. ”
“That’s why you have me now. ” Lucas put his arm around her waist.
“My survival rate has improved considerably. ”
They had resigned from Williams, O’Brien and Associates on the same day. It wasn’t impulsive—it was the result of weeks of conversation, planning, and a growing certainty that they wanted to build something of their own. The partners’ reaction had been surprising.
“Are you sure? ” Williams asked. “It’s a risky decision. ”
“So are we,” Lucas said.
Williams observed them for a long moment. Then something like respect appeared on his face. “You’ll go far together. ”
Now, standing in the middle of their empty office, Meline felt a peace she hadn’t known in years.
“Any regrets? ” Lucas asked. “Not at all. Only that we didn’t do this sooner.
”
Meline’s phone vibrated. A message from Margaret Collins: Envelope for you at the building reception. They went down together. The doorman handed them a brown envelope with the Williams, O’Brien and Associates logo.
Back in the office, Meline opened it carefully: a formal letter and a contract. “Institutional partnership proposal,” she summarized. “Case referrals, access to their client network, first-year support—in exchange for exclusivity in some areas and a percentage of fees. ”
Lucas whistled softly.
“That’s tempting. ”
Meline reread the terms. It was a generous offer—financial security, guaranteed clients, and chains. Subtle and elegant, but still chains.
“No,” she said. “No? ”
“No. We didn’t leave there to stay tied to their system.
”
“They’re offering stability. ”
“They’re offering control disguised as partnership. Are you sure? ”
Meline looked at him, at the plaque on the door, at the small office that was completely theirs.
“We didn’t get here to do things the safe way. We got here to do things our way. ”
Lucas smiled—that smile she knew so well now. “That’s the Meline Crawford I know.
”
He tore the contract in half, then in four, and threw the pieces in the trash. “Done. Decision made. ”
“No regrets?
”
“None. ”
Meline moved closer and kissed him—a light kiss full of promise. “Then let’s begin,” she said. “Where do we start?
”
“At the beginning. One client at a time. One case at a time. ”
“That sounds like hard work.
”
“That sounds right. ”
And it was. Finally, everything felt right. Two rivals who became partners.
Two stubborn people who learned to give in. Two hearts that found in conflict the most unlikely path to love. Meline and Lucas traded certainty for uncertainty.
And it was the best decision they ever made.
