Claire Lane sat at her desk, staring blankly at her computer screen. When Jackson Hayes, the managing partner of Buckwell, Hayes, Hertz Attorneys at Law, walked in and said good morning, she didn't even look up.

"What's eating her this early?" Jackson muttered as he passed.

"Break a nail or something?" Connie Young, the office manager, asked. The old woman with her white hair and reading glasses dangling from a chain looked like she'd stepped out of another century.

"Fuck off, you old battle axe," Claire snapped.

"Ms. Lane, my office. Now," Jackson's voice crackled through the intercom.

"Right away, Mr. Hayes."

Claire walked into her boss's office, facing the imposing figure behind the mahogany desk. At 6'2" and 200 pounds of muscle, Jackson Hayes commanded attention. His tannish hair and perfect suits complemented his Georgetown law degree and military background. At 42, he'd taken over from Roger Buckwell when the founding partner left for politics. With George Hertz and a dozen associates, their mergers and acquisitions firm raked in cash.

"What's wrong, Claire? Never seen you like this before."

"Sorry, sir. Just feeling like shit this morning."

"Take something for it then. No need to bite the old woman's head off."

"Won't happen again, Mr. Hayes."

"Happens to everyone. Be ready for our ten o'clock with the usual crew."

"Sure thing."

"Close the door on your way out."

Claire woke up queasy. Her period was a week late. She and Jeremy fucked at the weirdest times, but what if she was pregnant? How would he react? Shit swirled through her mind.

After work, she grabbed a pregnancy test from the drugstore. She pissed on the stick before Jeremy got home. It turned blue.

"What the fuck!"

She called Jeremy.

"I need to see you right NOW."

"Honey, I'm working late. What's wrong?"

"What time do you get off?"

"Around 6:30."

"I'll be there at seven." Claire hung up.

"Hello—hello."

At seven, Claire pounded on Jeremy's door.

"To what do I owe this surprise?" he asked, taking too damn long to answer.

"We need to talk—NOW!"

Claire sat on the couch, fidgeting. "I'm pregnant. Took the test after work. Positive."

Jeremy exploded. "What the fuck! How did that happen? Is it even mine? You stupid cunt, how could you let this happen?"

"Of course it's yours, dumbass. I thought you'd be supportive. It takes two. I haven't fucked anyone else since we started dating."

"How much is an abortion? You handle it and I'll pay my half."

"Your half? You make more than me, and I don't want one. It's not right, and it could fuck up my chances of having kids later."

"Don't expect a ring. I always wore protection. It's probably not even mine, you whore. Now get the fuck out!"

Claire slapped him and stormed out. "Fuck you, dickhead. I don't need you!"

At twenty-five, Claire still lived with her parents. Her mom was a housewife and her dad owned several used car dealerships. They were devout Baptists. Claire ditched religion in college, causing a rift between them.

After the doctor confirmed her pregnancy, Claire ran to her room crying the next day. Her mother walked in. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Claire explained, expecting the worst. Her mother unleashed hell.

"You little whore. You demon. You're a worthless slut. Get out of my house. You have one week. You're such a disappointment." Ruth slammed the door as she left.

"Mom..."

The next day at work, Claire was crying at her desk. Connie, being Connie, decided to attack.

"What's the matter? Another boy dumped you? In my day, girls didn't cry over boys like you. Oh well, someone desperate will fuck you eventually."

Just as Jackson walked into the office, Claire exploded: "You haggard old prune, get the fuck out of my face. I'm done with your shit. I won't take it anymore, bitch. If you know what's good for you, you'll keep moving."

"Claire!" Jackson yelled. "In my office, NOW!"

"Yes, Mr. Hayes." Claire dragged herself to Jackson's office for another ass chewing.

"Close the door. In all the time you've worked here, I've never seen you like this. What's going on that you keep fighting with the old hag?" Jackson smirked.

"I'm sorry sir. Just dealing with personal shit—" Claire covered her mouth. "I'm sorry⁠—"

"No problem. We all go through it. Tell me, maybe I can help."

"If I tell you, I'm afraid you'll think less of me. I can't handle that right now."

"Claire, are you in trouble?"

"Yes and no. I'm pregnant and alone." She told him how Jeremy and her parents reacted. She had nowhere to go and couldn't afford another apartment.

Jackson sat back and chuckled. "Is that all? Don't worry. If you'll let me, I'll help. And Claire, I don't think less of you. Please call me Jack. My friends call me Jack."

"Thanks Jack, but I don't want to drag you into this. I'll deal with it myself."

"Nonsense. You've been with me for what, four years? I consider you a friend. You let me vent during my divorce two years ago. You helped when Rodger moved to the bench. Let me do this for you."

"Yeah, those were the times," Claire nodded. "Just curious, what did Connie say about me?"

"Knock it off, kiddo. Anyway, since you got your paralegal certificate with your degree, I'm promoting you to my legal team, not just my assistant. That okay?"

"Sure, Mr. Hayes. I appreciate it. Finally away from the old hag upfront."

"Watch it!"

"Sorry, Mr. Hayes."

"No problem. By the way, I have a spare bedroom at my place with a private bath. You can move in if you want."

"But what would people think? You are who you are, and I'm just an employee. When my skinny ass shows up at your door carrying my baby, your reputation will be ruined."

"Honey! I'm my own man. But if you don't want to live with your employer—" Jackson grinned. "Seriously, Claire, no strings attached. I'm here to help."

"Okay, Jack. If I won't be in the way, I'd love to be your house guest."

"Okay roomie. Don't take this wrong, but are you sure the baby is your ex-boyfriend's?"

"Yes. I've only been with him. No one else."

"Willing to take a DNA test?"

"Yes, but why?"

"Nothing, just thinking aloud. Strike that from the record."

Claire giggled with relief. As she stood to leave, she hugged her boss and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for everything, Mr. Jack."

"No worries. You know where to find me if you need anything else."

After Claire left, Mr. Hayes called in Connie. "Connie. Effective immediately, Claire Lane is part of the legal group. Treat her with the same respect as the other attorneys and paralegals. Clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Hayes."

"Dismissed."

After work, Claire packed her stuff, argued with her parents, and moved to Jack's house. He lived in a colonial on three acres. Claire's room was about 400 square feet with an ensuite bath and a large walk-in closet with well-lit vanities.

"Well, what do you think?" Jackson asked, watching Claire unpack.

"It's lovely. More than I'll ever afford. Your guest room is bigger than most suites I've seen. I can't thank you enough. If I can help cook or clean, I'll do my part."

"Not necessary. I have a maid who cooks and does laundry. She'll do yours too."

"Thanks again." Claire hugged Jack and continued unpacking.

The next day, Jackson Hayes had a small office renovated for Claire and phoned Connie.

"Good morning, Connie. Please send Claire to my office. Thanks."

"Ok, Mr. Hayes," Connie said. "Claire, your boss wants you."

Claire rolled her eyes at Connie and got up.

"Good morning Claire, follow me." Jackson led her down the hallway to a freshly painted office. "What do you think of this space? You'll have this executive desk and credenza with the window overlooking the parking lot."

"It's nice. Are we hiring someone new?"

"It's your new office. I'll be giving you more legal papers for research and you need privacy. Many of these documents are classified. Plus, I need you as my primary assistant."

"Why are you being so nice to me, Jack? I'm not special. I appreciate it, but I don't understand why me."

"Trust me honey, I'm not doing you any favors. You're going to work harder than you ever have. I've been watching you since you started here and was planning to promote you anyway. You'll be putting in longer hours and shouldering more responsibility. I know you can do it, but don't thank me yet."

"Ok, Mr. Hayes."

Claire settled into her new position and Jack's house. Since moving in, she hadn't seen her parents once. Jackson was right about her workload—Claire brought work home every night. They usually sat in the living room reading briefs and working on corporate strategies over dinner. Afterward, they'd discuss what they liked and didn't.