Chapter Twenty-Five-Francesca
The office was once again bustling with partners and higher level lawyers. Something was going on. I hadn’t gotten much sleep over the weekend instead I laid in bed going over Friday night. Everything from the bike ride to the dinner date replayed in my head. The feeling of his body pressed into mine was permanently etched into my brain, and I just prayed it would happen again someday. My face was pale and appeared tired, my eyes red from crying more than I’d like to admit. I hoped today wasn’t my day for appraisals.
As if on cue, Mr. Phillips and another partner, Mr. Lemming, knocked on my door. I stood, brushing my skirt down straighter and called them in. They had papers, and their expressions gravely serious. My stomach turned and knotted. It was appraisal day.
“Mr. Phillips, Mr. Lemming, good morning. How can I assist you today?” I asked, motioning for them to sit in the seats in front of my desk.
“Hello, Ms. Taymon. We’re here to conduct you’re six month performance appraisal. Is now a good time?” Mr. Phillips asked.
“Of course,” I said, taking my seat.
“I see here that Mr. Phillips is letting you take a case for a Cade Kellling? Is that correct?” Mr. Lemming questioned.
“That’s right, Sir. We go to court Friday morning, but I don’t anticipate any issues. He doesn’t have a criminal record, so I think community service will be sufficient for his charges.”
“I see. Now, Ms. Taymon, can you tell us how you think you’re performing with the firm?” he asked.
I hated performance appraisals. The questions were awkward and always put me on the spot. It wasn’t fun talking about myself to my bosses. “Well, I believe I’m an asset to the office. I work hard, I like what I do, and I hope to someday become a partner.”
The two men gave each other a sidelong glance and my stomach dropped a little more. At this rate, it’d be on the floor by the end of the meeting.
“Francesca, can I ask why you look so ill and tired?” Mr. Phillips inquired. He didn’t sound concerned, it was more condescending.
Taken aback, I stammered, “Well...I had some personal issues this weekend. I’m fine to work, if that’s what this is about.”
“No, he’s just pointing out that women are too emotional. We appreciate your work and dedication, but you won’t become a partner in this firm. Haven’t you noticed there are no women partners? There’s a reason for that. We can’t risk the integrity of our business because women cry over everything,” Mr. Lemming explained.
My mouth fell open. I couldn’t believe he just said that to me. I didn’t know how to respond. I wanted to rip their heads off, but instead, I said, “Excuse me?”
“You heard us, Francesca. I appreciate you taking Mr. Kelling’s case. Derek is an old friend of mine and his kid just can’t stay out of trouble. We bail him out every time. This time, for some unknown reason—he wouldn’t tell me—, Derek insisted you be the lawyer. I didn’t want to, I fought him with all I had, but he pays us well. And we were to piss him off, it would look bad on the company, so I let you have it. It’ll probably be your last, and you will go back to what you’ve been doing,” Mr. Phillips said. He wasn’t even hateful or mean about it. They sat here saying these sexist things like it was perfectly ok.
I stood, gathering my courage. “Now it’s my turn to say a few things. You are going to be in very serious trouble for your discrimination against me. This is a violation of the Civil Rights Act and I will pursue it. I’m quitting. I’m no longer going to sit by and let this place demean me with words and actions. I am a damn good lawyer and it is your loss and the firm’s loss that I’m leaving. I’ll be out by the end of the day. I’ll see you in court, you may go now,” I snapped out, pointing them to the door.
Mr. Lemming stood with a huff, stomping out the door like he was a child having a tantrum. Mr. Phillips looked angry...really angry. “You will regret this, Ms. Taymon,” he snarled.
I placed my hands on the desk, leaning over to get in his face, “Exactly what I was thinking about you, Mr. Phillips,” I hissed back. I heard a cough at the door, and I darted my eyes to see Zander standing there. He looked as pissed as I imagined I appeared.
“I’m done, too. She goes, I go,” he said, coming to stand by my side.
Mr. Phillips nostrils flared, his face growing redder by the second. “Zander...you have a future here. You can’t quit. This is a family business, all Phillips’ work here. You can’t quit,” he bellowed.
Zander was the epitome of calm. “I just did. I’m going when she does.”
Mr. Phillips gave us both one last death glare, then darted out the door.
I stared at Zander. “Family business?” His last name was McKinney, not Phillips. I was confused.
“My mom’s uncle,” he shrugged, nodding in the direction the asshole boss just went. “Dad’s a McKinney.”
I just looked at him in amazement. He’d just quit his job, potentially ruining his career, for me. “Why did you do that?”
“I was coming to bring you a message and overhead their little tirade. That’s so damn sexists, Francesca. You are way better than these people. I’m just going to convince you to open your own firm because I need a job and you,” he said, pointing his index finger to the tip of my nose, “are going to give me one.”
I laughed, pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. Now let’s pack up and get the hell outta dodge,” he joked, pulling my briefcase from the floor. We spent a little over two hours getting our belongings. No one bothered us, surprisingly. By the time we were finished, he’d done exactly what he said he would. I was set to open my own firm. Finally doing what I’d studied so hard for. What I so desperately wanted to do the past three years. I was going to be a kick ass lawyer.
###
Kicking off my shoes, I sat my boxes and bags on the chair closest to me and headed for a glass of water. Hammy greeted me with snuggles around my feet. The day was still young, and I felt better than I had since I graduated law school. Working for a company that couldn’t appreciate me, especially because of my sex, was not what I needed or wanted. I pulled my ponytail holder out, shaking my hair free. I bound to the couch, taking a notepad and pen from the coffee table. Starting my own firm would be a lot of work and it was time to start making a to-do list. The ideas and thoughts came all at once. Renting an office, hiring Zander, office supplies, permits, advertising, and so much more would be required. I developed my list, moving and arranging things on it as they needed to be done. I was a perfectionist and before long, the floor was littered with balled up paper. In the middle of cleaning my mess, I heard my phone ringing in the distance.
I ran through the house, searching the boxes and bags. It wasn’t there. I searched the pockets of my outfit and jacket, but the ringing seemed to be growing further away. I ran to the kitchen, remembering I laid it on the counter. I answered just in time, breathlessly saying, “Hello?”
“Hey, is this Francesca?” a deep, familiar voice answered.
I breathed deeply a few times, then replied. “Yes it is.”
“Hey, it’s Cason,” he said, his voice strained.
I had a feeling this wasn’t a social call. “Hey, Cason, how are you?” I said, forcing my voice to sound happier than I felt. My stomach was slowly twisting its way into a huge knot.
“I’m alright. Listen, Cade wanted me to call you...” he started.
Panic rose in me. “Is he ok?” I asked a little too desperately.
“Yeah and no. He wants to talk to you himself, ok? So I’m not saying anything, but he won’t be able to contact you until Friday during court,” he explained. His voice was heavy, and he sighed. Something was going on and it sounded stressful.
“Ok...I sense this isn’t good. Is he sick?” I questioned, taking a seat at the table. I wasn’t sure my legs would hold me much longer.
“In a way,” he answered mysteriously.
“You really aren’t going t
o tell me?” I chuckled out. “I mean, he hasn’t contacted me at all. How do I know this isn’t his way of blowing me off?” I said, my voice getting a little louder with each word. Cade had hurt me before, but this time was different. It cut deeper, burned more.
“Francesca...I can’t tell you because I promised my brother I wouldn’t. You should know by now he cares about you. He doesn’t always show it, but he’s got issues, ok? And he’s working on it. He talks about you all the time, and he gets this sappy ass look in his eye if anyone else brings you up. You can think what you want, but he’ll explain it all Friday,” he said.
“I kind of quit the firm today, Cason. I don’t know if your dad will still want me to represent him,” I said shyly. Admitting it felt stupid. I hadn’t even thought of how it would affect my one and only case. And the man I loved.
“You quit? Why?” he bellowed out. I held the phone back, expecting steam to come pouring out.
“There was a discrimination issue. Regarding me. I’m still capable of handling his case, but it’s up to your dad.”
“Discrimination? Seriously?” he asked, his voice calmer this time.
“Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. I don’t have your dad’s number, can you give it to me and I’ll call him myself?” I questioned. I stood, rummaging through a door for paper.
“I’ll call him, you don’t need to deal with him. If he wants to talk to you, I’ll give him your number. Cool?” he said.
“If you’re sure....” I said. It felt wrong letting him handle it. It was my mess up.
“Ok, if you’re going to hear from him, it’ll be in the next few minutes,” he instructed, “bye, Francesca.”
“Wait!” I exclaimed. “You promise he’s ok?”
“Of course. I can see you care. I wanted to call before now but he didn’t want to worry you.”
If only he knew, I thought. “Alright. Thank you, Cason.”
“Welcome. See ya.”
He hung up. I sat there, staring at the phone for a long time. What could have happened to Cade and why didn’t he contact me to let me know? Was he hurt, sick, or worse? Maybe he was in jail again...No, I would have been contacted this morning since I was his lawyer. Well, I was then anyways. I struggled with figuring it out when my phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Is this Francesca Taymon?” a deep voice asked. It had to be Cade’s dad.
I sat a little straighter, like it mattered. “Yes it is. Is this Mr. Kelling?”
“Yes. My son just informed me you quit the firm today, and I would like to know why,” he demanded. His voice was angry, sharp, and forceful.
Nervously, I replied. “Yes, Sir. I was informed I would never make partner because I’m a female, so I terminated my employment. I want to assure you that I can still handle this case, Mr. Kelling. I have everything ready to go. The folder is in my briefcase,” I explained, praying he allowed me to keep it.
He was silent for a long time...almost too long. I was about to ask if he was still on the line when he answered me. “That really happened?”
“Unfortunately, yes it did,” I said sadly.
“Those assholes. You did the right thing. You know I requested you, and they didn’t want to let me have you? Now I know why.” He was ranting.
“Mr. Kelling...could I ask why you requested me? I’d think it was Cade’s doing but I know he didn’t know I was his lawyer the morning of the meeting.”
“No, I couldn’t let him know. He may have somehow screwed it up. I requested you because you’re the only person who’s ever been able to get through to my son. I want him to become a decent man, not one that drinks and skirts away from his problems. I figured you were my best chance,” he said matter of factly.
I didn’t know what to say. He was extremely honest and it wasn’t what I was expecting. “Well, thank you. I would have never been put on a case if you hadn’t done that,” I said, truly thankful.
“No problem. I trust you will still take care of everything Friday?” he inquired.
“Of course. I just have to have your or Cade’s approval,” I explained.
“I’m paying for your services, so you have my approval. Thank you, Francesca.” He hung up before I could say anything else.
I sat there contemplating the day, hardly believing everything that had happened. I’d quit my job, and decided to start my own firm. I didn’t know what the future held, but I had a good feeling in the pit of my stomach about it. The only uncertainty was Cade.
Chapter Twenty-Six-Cade
Detoxing my body wasn’t what I expected. After Cason left, a nurse came in and asked me a million questions. She did the basic doctor’s office stuff: blood pressure, temperature, weight, height, medical history. It was time consuming, but really, what else did I have to do? Nikki, that was her name, explained what all would happen to me during the next few days, the options I had available medically, and made me sign a paper stating this was my decision and gaining sobriety was my goal. It felt weird, going through all of this, but it also felt right. I’d been hiding behind the bottle for too long now. I hadn’t really lived. I was inching closer to thirty years old and had nothing to show for it. It really was no wonder I was a disappointment to Pops. I was a disappointment to myself.
An hour or so after Nikki left, a man named Reid came in.
“Hello, Cade. My name is Reid,” he said, holding his hand out.
“Hey,” I said, shaking his hand. I didn’t know anyone else was coming in. It made me feel uneasy.
“I just wanted to stop by and talk to you about this. I’m a sponsor at the local alcoholics anonymous, and I hope you’ll come to meetings with me when you’re finished here. I was in your exact spot three years ago. I spent four months in this facility, and the worst part of it was when I would get upset and couldn’t have a drink. I’m here to show you it’s possible, all of this,” he said, holding his hands in the air, “is for your benefit, but you have to keep wanting it. Becoming sober was the best decision I ever made. I’m leaving my card with the receptionist, so please call me if you need anything.”
He seemed nice enough. His hair was light brown and curly, his eyes a grayish color. He was tall and hardly seemed the type that would have been an alcoholic for years. Would anyone ever look at me and think it seemed impossible? “How bad is detoxing?” I called out as he was turning to leave.
He stopped, sat back down, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I won’t lie, it’s not fun. It’s different for everyone, but you’ll mostly feel really sick. You may not remember much during the next few days. If it gets bad enough, the nurses will knock you out. They generally don’t like to do that, but sometimes it’s necessary,” he explained. “Can I ask how long you’ve been in this shape? It may help me to determine how bad it can get. They have a chart, withdrawals range from mild to severe. Most everyone that comes here has some sort of mild symptoms.”
“You know a lot about this,” I said, leaning forward. “Why do you do this?”
“Cade, I know we just met, but I want to help you. I had no one when I decided to get sober. It was hell going through it all alone, so once I hit my one year recovery, I became a sponsor, I began working here as a counselor. I do anything and everything I can to make sure no one ever feels the way I did.”
“I have my brother,” I said, still sizing him up. It was strange for me to sit here and talk about my problems like this. I didn’t like it one bit.
“Has he been through this? Detoxing, rehab?” he questioned. The look in his eyes told me he already knew the answer.
I shook my head. I could feel my hands beginning to shake. That’s how it started last time, too. “I feel shaky,” I confessed. He wanted to help, might as well let him.
“You can ask me anything you want next week, ok? I’ll come every day if it’ll help you. It’ll be best if I leave now, though. Talking about this stuff while detoxing is frowned upon,” he admitted, standing once again.
“I can’t see
my family, or the woman I love. Could you stay and just talk for a little longer? I want to know more about this facility and the process.”
“I’ll tell you more next week. I’ll come by on Saturday and see how you are doing in the detoxing stage. If all is well, we’ll talk all day,” he said, giving me a warm smile.
“Ok,” I said, standing to walk him to the door. I opened it, stepped aside for him to exit, and asked one final question. “Hey, why don’t any of these doors have locks?”
“Because you’re free to go whenever you’d like, Cade. This isn’t jail or punishment or anything of that sort. You’re here because you want to be and the lock free environment is to help remind you of that,” he grinned again, patted me on the back, and exited my room.
I watched him leave and when he got half way down the hallway, I called out, “Hey, Reid? Thank you.”
He nodded in acknowledgement and continued on. I settled in front of the TV, praying what to come wouldn’t be as bad as I imagined.
###
“Mr. Kelling?” a soft voice asked, pulling me from sleep.
I opened my eyes, seeing a tall blonde with scrubs on standing over me. She looked familiar, but my head was pounding, so I couldn’t remember her name at the moment. “Yeah?”
“Nikki here,” she smiled, “I’m just going to check your vitals. Your body has started detoxing, so I or the night nurse will be in here more often to make sure your body responds well.”
Detoxing. “That’s why I have a headache,” I groaned, pulling myself to sitting position.
“Yes, and why you’re sweating.”
“What else could happen?” I inquired as she cuffed the BP monitor on me.
“Well, there’s a range of symptoms, Mr. Kelling,” she started.
I interrupted, “Please call me Cade.” My voice was weak. I didn’t sound like myself at all.
“Cade,” she corrected, smiling. “Withdrawal symptoms can be shakiness, headaches, vomiting, nausea, nightmares, and anxiety, just to name a few. The more severe symptoms—“
The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories Page 116