I got two offers, to be precise.

One from the attorney guy in the exam jury, and one from Mr. Boyle himself.

After the things I heard of Boyle, it's not that hard to decide.

Between the two, that is.

Between my current work and the new one, is a completely different question.

The attorney offers me three times as much money as I earn at the moment.

On the other hand, I'm not unhappy with my current salary either. It's enough to make a living. And here, I have Ollie. And Bill. And Liam. And—

Yes.

The problems start here.

If I want to be honest, I have to admit that my dilemma has nothing to do with the money.

I need someone to discuss it all with. I need someone so badly to provide me with some insight on the matter. But I don't dare to tell Ollie about it. She'd freak out so badly if I ever tried to mention that I might be leaving. And she's not impartial either. She's not able to see Mr. Warren the way I see him. She's still a fan.

The last thing I need is a ditzy blabbering about feelings and stuff. I need a detached and analytical view.

So I choose Bill.

And I get a ditzy blabbering about feelings.

When I brief him about the situation, instead of answering something sensible, he just muses, staring into the distance with a corny smile, as if he was my favorite alcoholic uncle.

"You can't seriously think that Mark hates you," he says.

"That's not what I asked," I snort.

"I think you did."

"I asked," I explain to him, trying to keep my cool, "about my prospects here. He seriously contemplated letting me go last time."

"Yeah. As if you left him any other option."

"You don't get it." I shake my head. "My problem is not that I'm squishy. I don't want to go into details, but... yeah, I'm a fucking kingslayer, if you know what I mean. Anyone ever tried to cross my path, no matter who, fell. But not this time. He's the fucking owner, man. You can't remove the owner, can you?"

"Would you want to, if you could?"

"I'm not here to discuss theoretical questions."

"And I'm not here to feed your fucking paranoia." He grins.

"He signed me up for the exam, Bill. The very first week I started to work here."

"Oh, finally a mystery I can solve. He was 100% sure you'd pass. Even back then. Without the slightest doubt. And that's it."

"It's not much of an explanation," I say, furrowing my brow. "There must be something else."

"Oh, there is something else." Bill smiles. "But I thought you had already solved this one by yourself. You're supposed to be clever, aren't you? Oh, you've been too busy with sulking since the two of you clashed, instead of thinking. A pity."

"Bill. Please. I need an explanation."

"All right," he agrees, surprisingly easily. "Here's one. Everything he did, he did for you."

"Bill," I grunt. "Not the touchy-feely nonsense again."

"Sorry." He shrugs. "It's the best one I have. Every other explanation pales in comparison with this one. Everything else is just overthinking. Like, going into unnecessary details, instead of sticking to a principle without exceptions."

"Please, go into details," I sigh, palming my face.

"Okay," he agrees. "You mentioned the money you were offered. Well, Mark will offer you the same. Because now he can. Until now, he couldn't. Strange, huh? I mean, not this. The strange part is that you, being as distrustful as you are, never demanded a clear explanation for your obscure status here. You're not even sure if you're a legal assistant or a lawyer."

"I did." I shrug. "But he refused to answer me."

"See? Again, back to our principle without exceptions. That everything he did... okay, I don't want to annoy you. It's a fact, he never answered you. Why? To make sure that, if anything goes wrong, you can't be held accountable."

"For what?"

"For abusing a shortcut our wonderful legal system offers."

I stare at him, flabbergasted. My brain already works on the problem, but it's too slow to catch up.

"Well, not for anyone." He shrugs. "That's why it's not clearly illegal, just a loophole. Because not many would dare to exploit it. It's not for the faint of heart. Even less for the faint of brain. So it requires a true daredevil. Like you."

"Am I that brave?"

"You are. But this time, Mark was brave for you, rather."

"Please, Bill," I start again, but he stops me.

"I know. To the details. Well, long story short, you were a legal assistant all along here. Until yesterday. Officially, that is. No one is allowed to work as a lawyer, without having a recognized diploma. And the recognition process takes years. He made me check it for him, so I know. On the other hand, taking the exam, the biiig exam, doesn't require a diploma, formally. It requires a previous legal practice. Which is certified by the employer, who states, in full awareness of his responsibility, that you were doing classic legal work under his guidance. Which is not the same, formally, as being employed in a legal position. So—"

"So that's why I was a legal assistant with a junior's job," I put together two and two.

"Exactly." Bill nods. "See? Mark's clever as fuck. And the very moment he noticed your abilities, he signed you up for the exam, to give you a shortcut."

"And he made me do a legal job instead of an assistant's," I muse. "And that's why he came up with that strange fringe benefit concept, paying Ben's tuition fee. Because, in the meantime, on paper, I was still an assistant, so he couldn't pay me accordingly."

"Right," Bill says. "I'm struggling with the urge to mention our principle without exceptions again, but I'm strong."

"You better be," I sigh. "He should have told me."

"Sure." Bill grins. "Because you took his help so well previously."

"I don't want his help. I want to make my own decisions. I prefer to be free."

"It's funny you say that. Because now you are."

"Now?" I ask, absolutely confused.

"Now." Bill nods. "I take special pleasure in informing you that independent legal practice isn't based on a diploma either. It's based on the exam, and the exam only. You're free, sweetie. Now you're free."

I palm my face again. It's too much to take in at once.

"You can leave us all behind if you want," Bill goes on. "Which is exactly what you're considering, right?"

"I could never do that," I tell him. "Even if I worked somewhere else, I couldn't even think of turning my back on you forever."

"Right." He grimaces. "I guess you should have this conversation with Mark. But as far as I can tell, you're not on speaking terms again."

"I guess we're not." I shrug.

"Why?"

"Because I'm a paranoid sociopath," I answer. "And also a complete disaster."

Bill sighs deeply. He doesn't ask me about the source of the most fitting description. He surely knows. He asks me something else. Something surprising.

"And what about him? What is he like?"

I stare at him.

"He's certainly not flawless either," he explains. "There must be a reason why you always end up having a beef with him, and not with me, for example."

I close my eyes for a time, trying to find an honest answer. What is he like?

"He's a very good boss," I start hesitantly. "He's considerate. He always stands up for us all. He's demanding, but just."

"Then what?" Bill asks.

It's strange. It's so much easier to see things sharply with eyes closed.

"It's not him," I admit. "It's me. I fucked up."

Bill gently touches my shoulder, making me blink. Then he looks me deep in the eyes.

"You can't fuck this up, honey. You might be a true daredevil, but even you're not good enough to fuck this up. You just can't."

"Well, I still managed it somehow." I pout. "I can't stop picking fights with him. And I simply can't quit this stupid power play between us."

"He doesn't care," Bill says. "He even enjoys it."

"Enjoys. Right."

"Take a guess," he says smirking, "how many people would dare to try it? To make him submit, fair and square? Huh? The way he looks, the way he behaves, who he is... it makes it quite improbable, right? So yeah. I know him. It's something new for him. And he enjoys it."

"But I don't." I shrug. "It makes me feel petty and pathetic. Not his fault, again."

"Don't you?" He laughs. "Oh, sweetie. Why would you do it, if you don't even enjoy it? I think you do. And you do it well."

"He just rubs me the wrong way."

"Then you'd simply walk away. Problem solved. Oh, that's what you're doing right now, aren't you? My bad."

"Hey, I'm not decided yet."

"I think you are," he sighs. "You leave us. Alone and crying."

"You're a bit too melodramatic."

"Am I?" he asks. "Just stop for a moment and think of Ollie."

"She'll always be my friend," I protest.

"It's not the same."

The problem is, I know. Even without him telling me.

"I understand that you got to get away though," he says. "You have irreconcilable control issues... oops... differences with Mark."

"Yeah," I sigh. "He's so... intransigent!"

"I think he used the same word about you, isn't it strange?" Bill grins. "Never mind. I admit he is. In some things. Maybe not the ones you think of. If I was as brave as you are, I'd cite our principle without exceptions here, again, and face your wrath. But I'm not. Though..."

"Though?"

"It might be my last chance, right? And while it's not my business to talk about someone who's not even present, you are here with me. I can talk about you. Now listen. I'm not buying your story. I think you just fell for him, and now you feel stupid."

My heart audibly skips a beat. But only one. After that, I simply nod.

"If that would be true, I'd have every reason to feel stupid, wouldn't I? It'd be very stupid of me."

"Yeah," he sighs. "And you're anything but stupid, right? You're very clever."

"Well, even without a brain, it would be hard not to notice that I'm nothing like the women he likes."

"Well," he says, grinning, "it must be even harder not to notice that he's not with any of those women since you showed up. But correct me with your superior intellect, if I'm wrong."

"Okay." I shrug. "I was about to do it anyway, but thanks for asking. A negation can't be turned into an affirmation just like this, formally. It's against the rules of logic. And, believe me, it's something you can trust. Unlike people. So the conclusion is... there's no conclusion. I'm not the hopelessly devoted type. It's just not for me."

Bill gently ruffles my hair. I hate it when he does, but now I feel it strangely comforting.

"Wow," he says. "You absolutely convinced me with that one. You're really clever. Maybe a bit too clever for your own good."

"Bill," I stop him. "A reality check is needed here. Just think for a moment. He is... this and that. I am... this and that. See?"

"Say no more." He smiles. "I agree. A reality check seems absolutely urgent. You're too deep into your own narrative."

"So give me a better one," I snort.

"I already offered you a principle without exceptions," he says. "But you didn't seem to like it."

I bury my face in my hands. I count to ten. By the time I'm finished, I decide on what to do.

These wonderful people will always be my friends. But I need an escape. A steady distance.

I don't need to tell Bill. He sees it.

"So, what about Mark?" he asks. "He shouldn't be the last to know that you're leaving."

"Tomorrow, I'll tell him," I state firmly.