Shammed Read online

  Shammed

  Bernadette Franklin

  Dedication

  To my editor and proofreaders,

  * * *

  Thanks so much for the help. I couldn’t have done this without you.

  Dear readers,

  * * *

  Thanks for coming along for the ride. Enjoy.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Stuffed spiders hung from the ceiling of my boss’s office, brushing against the heads of the unwary entering the room. Mr. Kenton’s shriek had brought everyone in the office running. As his secretary, I’d had the dubious honor of arriving first.

  I’d only been working for him for a month, and I ran a high risk of losing my job from laughing so hard at the childish prank. Tears pricked my eyes, and wiping them away did no good. They kept coming back.

  I was probably the only person in the office who actually liked spiders and kept several as pets.

  “It’s not that funny, Alice,” the attorney complained.

  Yes, it was. “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Despite my best effort, I couldn’t stop from laughing.

  Several other attorneys crowded into the doorway behind me along with their secretaries and the paralegals working on the floor. Like me, they laughed at the partner’s expense.

  Unlike every other attorney I’d worked for, Mr. Kenton handled the situation with grace—and a few laughs of his own. “To whomever helped with this one, well played. As soon as I figure out which one of you rascals did this, I will have my revenge.”

  At R.K. Legal & Associates, office hours were between ten to six, pranks could only be performed after hours and needed to be cleaned up before ten every business day, and all legal representatives were to show up by nine to ensure all shenanigans were removed or cleverly hidden.

  As Mr. Kenton’s secretary, I needed to make the spiders disappear before ten, but I’d enjoy the work compared to the general monotony of filing paperwork, doing research, making certain Mr. Kenton made it to his appointments on time, and otherwise serving as a well-paid office gopher.

  Fighting to regain my composure, I straightened, cleared my throat, and dabbed my eyes, careful to avoid the tender skin of my healing cheek. I’d been promised the injury would stop hurting one day, but the latest surgery to fix my face had left me with a new line of stitches which would result in a second scar near my eye.

  In a few weeks, possibly within a week if all went well, I’d be free from my stitches and be able to get on with my life—and wear makeup without inflicting pain on myself to hide my scars and bruises.

  I couldn’t wait.

  Once I could speak without giggling, I asked, “What would you like me to do with the spiders, Mr. Kenton?”

  The attorney counted stuffed spiders. “It seems there’s enough cute, fluffy spiders for everyone, so do deliver one to every attorney first, and then distribute them as you see fit. Keep the one you like best for yourself. I think I’ll see about getting them little hats with shamrocks on them. We’ll call them holiday decorations for St. Patrick’s Day.”

  I lifted my hand and bit my knuckle so I wouldn’t burst into laughter at the thought of stuffed spiders wearing shamrock-themed bowlers. Unable to speak without giggling like a fool, I nodded.

  Those behind me didn’t even bother to hide their mirth over the situation—or Mr. Kenton’s reaction to the prank. Fetching a chair, one without troublesome wheels, I went to work retrieving stuffed spiders from the ceiling. They came in bright colors, and upon closer inspection, I discovered some of them came with power switches. Puzzled, I turned one on and set it on the floor.

  Mr. Kenton dodged hanging spiders, circled his desk, and yelped at something he found on his chair, likely more spiders.

  The bright blue and pink spider took off across the floor right towards the attorney.

  His yelp grew into a full-fledged screech.

  The toy sped up, spun in a circle, and darted off in another direction.

  “What the hell is that?” Mr. Kenton pointed at the spider, which reacted to his voice, spun in another circle, and ran into the wall.

  “It seems to be sound activated.” I caught the rogue toy, flipped it over, and turned it off. “Do you know who would leave a bunch of spiders in your office, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  When Mr. Kenton didn’t elaborate, I assumed he was doing what he always did when someone got the jump on him: he plotted revenge. I got a storage box from the hallway closet and began packing away the toys so I could get back onto the chair and remove the monofilament lines and the evidence my boss had been pranked before the first of his clients for the day came.

  “Tell me, Alice. You’re Irish, aren’t you?”

  Before my former boss had smashed my face, I’d dyed my red hair blond to avoid extra scrutiny and the jokes. A careful application of makeup had hid most of my freckles, and I’d considered colored contacts to hide that my eyes were green. Since my operations to reconstruct my eye socket and minimize scarring, I’d gone without a lot of the little things I’d done to draw attention away from my heritage. “Only part, sir. I’ve never been to Ireland in my life. My father’s Irish, and he returned to Ireland after he divorced my mother. My mother’s part Irish; a quarter, I think? Why, sir?”

  “St. Patrick’s Day is coming up soon, and the instigator of today’s prank deserves a healthy dose of shenanigans.”

  A healthy dose of what? “Shenanigans, sir?”

  “You know, trickery, mayhem, fun at his expense? Shenanigans. Of course, he’ll expect it coming from me. But from you? My quiet, reserved secretary he’s only caught a few glimpses of? He’ll never expect it coming from you. You’re perfect. Our firms are dealing with a divorce case, so we’re sharing an unfortunate amount of space lately. His client requested the divorce. My client would like to try to resolve the issues in their marriage. His client is considering it. As such, the case is being drawn out much longer than anticipated.”

  “Ah. The Randel case, sir?” With millions in assets to be divided, I could understand why our client, Mrs. Randel, would want to preserve her marriage. She’d earned a decent chunk of the assets to be split and was in a good position to enjoy a comfortable life without her husband, but everything I’d seen of the file indicated she wasn’t in the relationship for the money.

  Mr. Kenton liked the cases where a divorce might be dodged, and it often cost him hours because he opted to not charge extra when the case became complicated as a result of his mediation efforts. His ten to six often became ten to ten because of his desire to do more than the minimum, something I respected about the man.

  I needed to pay Chloe a visit and thank her for putting me in touch with her head hunter. Between her and her future in-laws, I’d been able to press charges against our former employer and come away with a fortune. A lot would go into hiding my new scars and medical bills, but there’d be enough left over I could live in comfort. Add in my higher pay with R.K. Legal & Associates, and my ex-boss’s assault had become a rather painful blessing in disguise.

  I never wanted to have my face bashed in again, but I’d make the most of my new circumstances.

&nb
sp; Mr. Kenton sighed. “Yes, the Randel case. Mr. Randel wants to hear a proposal for mediation with the condition of having all paperwork drawn up and awaiting signature in case it doesn’t work out. So, we’re still doing the complete asset split, which will need judge approval, but they’re going to attempt to resolve their differences. Should it not resolve, they’ll move forward with the divorce.”

  “That seems like a reasonable compromise,” I said, wondering what the catch was—if there was a catch. Who was I kidding? There was always a catch.

  “It’s reasonable until you have a good look at the assets they need to split, work I have to bill them for. I was hoping to save them the investment, but it’s going to be a lot of hours. You’ll be fielding a lot of paperwork in this case and preparing it for my review.”

  I wasn’t a paralegal and couldn’t prepare any legal documentation, but the work I did would become the foundation for what everyone else did. Best of all, I didn’t need to deal with the clients often.

  It was enough to make me want to sing and dance in my boss’s office.

  “And it’ll be a lot of consulting with Mr. Randel’s attorney.” My boss rubbed his hands together. “Lance’ll never see it coming. If you play your cool professional as usual, he won’t even notice you’re setting him up.”

  “What am I setting him up for, exactly?”

  “That’s a very good question. I don’t suppose you’re interested in pulling some pranks on a rival firm? Costs will be on me, and I’ll have a budget for you to work with. For the record, their firm is the reason why our firm has rules on appropriate pranking.”

  Some stories needed to be told, and if I couldn’t get Mr. Kenton to tell me, I’d ask around the office until I learned the truth. “What happened, sir?”

  “One of the partners of the firm decided to send us a rather large shipment of toilet paper during office hours, much to the confusion of our clients, who wondered what we could possibly need with thousands of rolls of toilet paper.”

  Well, that was different. “What did you need with thousands of rolls of toilet paper, sir?”

  “To this day, I don’t really know, but I think we still have some in the supply closets. We donated the excess to the local shelters and schools. Are you game, Alice?”

  Was my boss kidding? When else was I going to get to toy with someone on his dime? “I’m going to need a full list of rules, a budget, and a timeline, sir.”

  “Save the best prank for last, and do it on St. Patrick’s Day. Start small and work your way up. When you’re done with him, I want our firms to be talking about it for years.”

  I’d learned I had a new favorite word, and it was shenanigans. “I’ll get to work on this immediately, sir.”

  “Good. And Alice?”

  “Sir?”

  “The only good prank is the one where everyone has fun. I’ll send you everything I have on Lance so you can cater your pranks to him and his staff. And do feel free to involve the entirety of his firm. They’ve had it coming.”

  I had no idea what sort of budget he was going to give me, but I had the feeling my professional life was about to become a great deal more interesting.

  I kept the plainest of the spiders, a pale gray fuzzy little thing I placed beside my monitor. I cut away the clear line and gave him a red bow for a splash of color on my otherwise barren desk. The rest went into my office’s upper cabinets while I considered how best to distribute them.

  One late evening gifting spiders to people in creative fashions wouldn’t kill me, and just like every other night since before Christmas, I had no plans. Staying in the hospital for several days while a surgeon reconstructed my face and made sure I wouldn’t suffer from vision impairment had changed me. The trial had changed me, too.

  Until the trial, I hadn’t realized people I thought were friends would run away when I no longer classified as a conventional Irish beauty. Until the trial, I hadn’t realized I could have friends who saw me for who I was—and could bake cookies better than the ones I could get from the little shop in the mall.

  I knew exactly one person who could help me pull off a prank war, and she’d kidnapped her husband-to-be so she could give him to herself for Christmas. Picking up my phone, I dialed Chloe’s extension, eyeing the clock and hoping she was already at her desk.

  Luck was with me. “Hey, Alice. What can I do for you?”

  “Mr. Kenton asked me to help him with a few pranks on an attorney from a different firm, and I have no idea what I’m doing. He wants it big and memorable.”

  “Which firm?”

  “Dowdy & Sons Legal.”

  “Ah. Them. I recommend a toilet delivered before hours by special courier. Their last pranks have been pretty shitty!”

  Since when did Chloe curse at work? “What happened?”

  “Glitter happened. This morning. I sparkle, Alice. I’m a walking sparkle. And I know exactly who was in on it because the bastard just walked by and waved at me with a smile on his smug face. Red and green glitter, too. I even got a card. I have a meeting with a client in an hour, and I’m going to be flashier than Broadway.”

  “Do you need help cleaning up?”

  “Could you? The jerk didn’t know I had a client meeting today when he so kindly helped the enemy glitter bomb me!”

  With a little work, some tape, and creative styling of her hair, I could restore Chloe to presentable within an hour. “I’ll tell Mr. Kenton you need some help cleaning up a prank. I have to distribute plush spiders in the near future. I’ll make sure your groom inherits one in an interesting and amusing fashion.”

  “Good. He expects me to rescue him from spiders. Have fun. He deserves it.”

  “He walked away while laughing, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  Poor Chloe. “Red and green look good on you, and I have some ribbons. We can make it look like you’re being festive for Saint Patrick’s Day in advance. What are you wearing?” As Chloe almost always wore black and white to work, red and green might work as an accent color for her.

  “A black blazer and skirt, white shirt.”

  Yep, she’d gone for the funeral home look again. “Your future mother-in-law hasn’t convinced you to wear brighter colors to work yet?”

  “Not on days with client meetings!”

  “I’ll come to your office in a few minutes,” I promised. “I’ll bring the vacuum and the tape.”

  “I’ll owe you one.”

  “Help me figure out how to win this prank war I’ve been recruited for, and we can call it even.”

  “I have a fashion designer for a future mother-in-law, and I’m pretty sure her specialty is trickery. I’ll recruit her to help. I make no promises she won’t dress you up like a doll for her amusement, though. She does that. Often. If you smile and look really, really happy, she might be able to rein in her tendencies to make everyone around her as happy as she is.”

  “But isn’t she a really expensive fashion designer?”

  “Don’t get me started, Alice. Actually, I won’t have to. If I bring you anywhere near my house, you might learn for yourself. My future mother-in-law has fortunately forgotten bridesmaids are a thing at weddings so far. When she remembers, my life is over.”

  Chloe sounded like she needed to be rescued from more than just glitter. “I’ll be in your office within ten minutes. I will bring a plush spider with me. What color does Julian hate the most?”

  “Probably puke green.”

  I checked the box and found two candidates. I grabbed them along with a large freezer bag to help contain the glittery mess. “I’ll bring the spiders, and we’ll roll them in glitter and make certain he enjoys your fate, too.”

  “I’m not sure you’re going to need my help planning a prank war. It sounds like you have the idea already.”

  “Trust me, Chloe. I need all the help I can get.”

  When Chloe and I had both worked in hell, she’d done her absolute best to dress down, toeing the
line between professional and unattractive with admirable grace and dignity. I’d gotten so used to her wearing sweaters and other clothing that hid her shape I sometimes forgot she could become a beautiful woman in the prime of life.

  She glowed, and the green and red glitter covering her head to toe only factored a little.

  The first thing to pop into my head escaped from my mouth before I could stop it. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

  Chloe bowed her head and sighed. “I get covered in glitter and the first thing you think of is that I’m pregnant?”

  I thought about that for a minute. “I can make a list.”

  “At least take pity on me and close the door first.”

  I did, chuckling at the mess all over her carpeted floor. “Please tell me the meeting isn’t in here.”

  “It’s not. It’s in the conference room.”

  “You look really happy.”

  “I thought pregnancy hormones turned women into fire-breathing dragons.” Chloe sat on the edge of her desk and attempted to brush glitter off her blouse and skirt. It smeared around and clung to her hands. “I’m going to propose no glitter in office pranks after this.”

  “Wait until I’ve transferred the glitter to Julian’s office with the help of these spiders.” I held up the puke green, fluffy spiders. Then I joined in the fray, using the spiders to brush glitter off her clothes and hair. It worked surprisingly well, although I regretted not bringing the rest of the spiders with me. “Are you capable of breathing fire at anyone? You’re usually so nice.”

  “I have my moments.”