by Carsen Taite
“None of which happens to be the federal court system.”
“No offense, but I feel more like a bystander than a game changer in this job. Don’t you feel the same? I mean, you’ll get to make decisions on cases, but if either side appeals, your decision—your legacy—is determined by someone else, someone who probably doesn’t know you at all and didn’t hear what you heard.”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I think you just called me ineffectual.”
“Maybe.” West grinned. “Seriously, you were on the bench before. Don’t you feel like you’re having a short-term impact?”
“The decisions have to start somewhere. Besides, I might not always be just a district judge.” Camille was instantly sorry she’d shared the info since West’s eyes lit up.
“Ah, you have your eyes on an appellate court. Good plan. Then you can make a real difference.”
“You assume we have the same ideologies.”
“I’ve read up on you. Besides, you wouldn’t have gotten this appointment from this president if you weren’t on Team Left.”
“True,” Camille said. “I probably also wouldn’t have gotten it without a little help from my parents and their well-placed friends after I got tossed out of state court last year. I guess we’re kind of alike that way.” She stared at West who looked stunned. “What?”
“It’s not the same thing at all,” West said, her tone rising. “You having well-heeled parents buy you a federal bench versus me keeping a promise to one of the only adults who ever gave a damn about me.”
Camille set her glass on the table, hard. “‘Buy me a federal bench?’ I never said that, and you certainly have no right to make that assumption. If anyone had something handed to her, it’s you. Maybe there’s more to it, but all I have to go on is a vague story about how Judge Blair made you take this job, a job many people in your position would be happy to have. I don’t know anything about your relationship with Blair or why you felt you had to keep this promise when you so clearly would rather be doing anything else, but I do know it doesn’t give you the right to sit in judgment of me.” She stopped just short of pointing out it probably wasn’t a good idea to talk to her boss the way she had.
West pushed back from the table and stood. “This was a bad idea.”
“You’re right,” Camille answered, not entirely sure what “this” was that West referred to, but knowing she should never have agreed to this rendezvous. She didn’t need to know anything personal about West for them to have a boss-employee relationship, and she’d been kidding herself to think they could have a harmless after work dinner. All she cared about now was getting the hell out of this situation with minimal damage. West looked ready to walk out, but she should be the one to go. The quicker the better. She reached in her purse and tossed some bills on the table. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Or not. It’s your decision.”
Camille walked away from the table before she could reconsider. She wasn’t going to break her promise to Blair, but if West decided to quit, she had to admit she’d be relieved. But what if she didn’t quit? What if she showed up tomorrow morning ready to work?
She had until tomorrow to get her game face on, and she would need every minute.
Chapter Six
Saturday morning, West flipped a pancake onto the stack already leaning precariously on the plate and handed it to Bill who had been hovering since he discovered her in the kitchen. “Put butter on these before they get cold.”
Bill made a show of sniffing the plate. “These smell amazing. You should’ve been a short order cook.”
“I still might. I have a feeling I’m not long for this clerk gig.”
“Right.” Bill’s one-word response was slightly muffled by the mouthful of pancakes.
“Seriously. I should’ve stayed in Montgomery.”
“I thought you said they weren’t hiring.”
“Not right now, but I could’ve flipped pancakes for a living and volunteered until something else opened up.” She poured some more batter into the skillet and checked the temperature. “I don’t suppose your place is hiring, are they?” Bill worked for the local office of Lambda Legal.
“You’re crazy. I love my job, but I’d give my left nut for the job you have. Do it for a year and you can write your own ticket.”
“Do what for a year? Write memos for a judge that lucked into the job?”
Bill cocked his head, and gave her a knowing smile before tucking another huge bite of pancakes into his mouth. “Oh, I get it.”
“What?”
“Did someone get rejected by the hot new federal judge?”
“No, smartass, it wasn’t like that.” West started to say what it was like, but she had trouble putting together a thought that didn’t make her sound like she was being irrational. She had kind of flown off the handle when Camille compared their lives, but had she been justified or was her response an overreaction? She’d spent the balance of the week working on the memo about the Wilson case and preparing others for the rest of the cases left over from Hank’s tenure, conveniently managing to avoid interaction with Camille who hadn’t sought her out either. Their mini cold war left her clueless about where things stood between them personally and professionally. “I mean, yeah, she’s attractive and she seems pretty smart, but we occupy two completely different worlds.”
“So do we, but that never stopped us from getting along.”
Bill had a point. The only thing they’d had in common when they met in law school was they were both from Dallas and both gay. Bill hailed from a wealthy Dallas oil family. He could afford to work for a non-profit since his trust fund held more coin than he could possibly spend in a lifetime. Their differences hadn’t prevented them from becoming fast friends and study partners.
“It’s different,” she offered, knowing it was a weak response. “Don’t ask me why, it just is.”
“Fine, but if the job’s as boring as you say, start looking for something else. No one says you have to give up the income until you’re ready to quit.”
West tried to imagine how successful she would be, trying to find some other job with the daily distraction of Camille, but the state of her bank account dictated she should give it a go. “Maybe you’re right. We did get a case this week that’s kind of interesting. You remember the girl who went missing last year and then turned up dead at a construction site near Baylor?”
“Absolutely. Leslie Silver. Her parents are friends of my folks. She disappeared about a week before graduation. So, is this a murder case?”
“Not exactly. It’s one of those weird federal laws—distributing drugs that result in death. Treated a lot like murder, but the statute doesn’t require intent to kill.”
“How is that even constitutional?”
“I know, right? Anyway, there are a ton of other legal issues. The goody-goody AUSAs filed a crazy-ass motion this week. Stuff I can’t tell you about, but trust me, tracing through the issues is like navigating the bar exam.”
“That sounds pretty cool.”
“I guess,” West said reluctantly. If she were working as an advocate on either side of the case, it’d be a helluva lot more interesting.
Bill shoved the last bite of pancakes into his mouth, but didn’t let it slow down the conversation. “Sounds as interesting as anything you’d get at the Center. Maybe you should quit fighting this gift and take advantage of it.”
West piled another stack of pancakes onto his plate and sat down to join him. “Maybe you’re right. And maybe I’m being a baby about the whole attraction thing. I just need to get laid, and not with another lawyer.”
“I’m all for getting laid. Speaking of which, Gabe’s planning on coming over later.”
“Is that your way of asking me not to be here?”
“No, I’m trying to be nice. I know he’s over here a lot.”
“It’s your place.”
“It’s our place until you ditch me for greener pastures, and I’m trying not
to be a douche.”
“As if. He’s your boyfriend. Have him over whenever you want. As long as you two remember to put the toilet seat down, I’m cool with it. Besides, if I meet someone late one night, I don’t plan on knocking on your door to make sure it’s okay to bring her in. Cool?”
“Cool.”
West dug into her plate of pancakes. She actually liked being in a house with someone she knew instead of on her own in Montgomery. Except for Hank, Bill was the closest thing to family she had, and the job wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be. All she had to do was get past the persistent attraction to her boss and everything would be fine.
* * *
Camille handed her barely touched plate of food to the waiter and assured him the leftovers were due to her own lack of appetite, not the taste of the food. As he walked away shaking his head, she attempted to tune in to the conversation. Her very best friend, Jaylyn Renner, was holding court and had the others in stitches. Camille was too distracted to participate in the lively conversation, but Jaylyn seemed determined to single her out. “Hey, Avery, don’t you have some clout now that you’re a federal judge? Next time don’t let them make us wait an hour for a table, okay?”
“I’ll get right on that.” Camille resisted the urge to excuse herself to the restroom and ditch her friends, but she did say a silent prayer that the powers that be would strike Jaylyn mute. She usually looked forward to these monthly brunches, but today everyone was rubbing her the wrong way and the last thing she wanted was to be the center of attention.
Her agitation had started the minute she’d walked away from West at the bar Monday night. Leaving had been the right thing to do, but she couldn’t deny the slow burn of frustration that came from ending the evening on such a sour note when it had had such promise at the beginning. And that was the source of the problem. She should’ve never been at a bar with West in the first place. Especially not alone. West was edgy and dangerous. She spoke her mind, not caring who she offended. Of course West could afford to say whatever she wanted. She likely never planned to run for office or get caught up in politics of any kind other than to rail against the system. It was easy to buy into the rebellion when you didn’t have to pay the price.
But what rankled most was West’s implication she achieved her success because of her privileged upbringing. She might have been fortunate enough to never want for money, but there were plenty of things she missed out on. Her parents’ deep coffers meant they were rarely home and they’d almost never attended milestone moments in her life. Camille scanned her group of friends. Certainly, to the outside looking in, they all appeared to have charmed lives. Jaylyn sported a vintage Chanel suit and a handbag that cost more than most people’s mortgage payments, but her wealth had grown from the seed of a wrongful death settlement after she’d lost her parents in a gruesome plane crash. None of their group had been in foster care, but it looked like West was no worse the wear for her experience. She’d graduated top of her class both as an undergrad and at Berkeley Law. If she wasn’t so unconventional, West probably could’ve landed the federal clerkship without Blair’s help.
The bigger question was why she cared so much what West thought of her. West’s opinion had no effect on her ability to perform her job or her likelihood of advancement. In fact, quite the opposite was true. West didn’t seem the least bit concerned about garnering favor with her, which might be one of the reasons she couldn’t let this attraction go. Was she so used to people sucking up to her that West’s obvious nonchalance about pleasing her posed a challenge?
After the bill was settled and the group started to disband, Jaylyn grabbed Camille’s arm as they walked out of the restaurant. “I’m headed to Northpark to do a little retail therapy. You in?”
“You’ll have to break the bank without me today. I’m going by the office to see if I can get ahead before I get too buried.”
“All work and no play…Don’t make me finish that phrase.”
“Don’t tempt me. I just started this job and I already feel like I’m going to need a year to catch up.”
“Come on,” Jaylyn said. “I’ll walk you as far as Neiman’s.”
They strolled the mostly empty street. This part of downtown was pretty quiet on the weekends, relying primarily on office workers to keep the commerce flowing.
“So, do you like it?”
“It?”
“Being a judge?”
“I’ve been a judge before. Remember?”
“Yes, but this is pretty different, right?”
Camille considered the question. “It is. When I was on the bench in state court, I spent half my term either holding fundraisers to pay back campaign debt or raising money to run again.”
“You don’t have to worry about any of that now.”
“Not the money part. But when it comes to promotion, they always look at your appellate record. Judges who mess up don’t get appointments to higher courts.”
“Relax and enjoy what you’ve got before you go wishing away your happiness.”
Jay might be right, but Camille wasn’t taking any chances. The Wilson case was an appellate lawyer’s wet dream, rife with legal issues, and since the case was going to dominate the headlines during the trial, her every move would be scrutinized. Every decision she made had to be carefully calculated and firmly based in the law. She would have to focus all her energy on the case, which meant no time for inappropriate thoughts about her hot new law clerk. Maybe she should assign West to some other work and use Lloyd exclusively on this case.
Jay’s elbow to her side nudged her out of her head. “Don’t look now, but a cute little hottie is eyeballing you. Ten o’clock.”
Camille whipped her head in the direction Jay mentioned and locked eyes with West. She was standing about twenty feet away, next to a parking meter on Commerce Street, talking to what appeared to be a homeless man. West was dressed in low-slung jeans and a short-sleeved plaid shirt that left the tattoos on her arms on full display. Camille gripped Jay’s arm, but the chance encounter robbed her of speech.
“I told you not to look,” Jay whispered. “Pretty clear she’s into you.” She leaned in closer. “How long has it been since you got laid? I mean she’s not really your type, but there’s no denying she’s hot.”
Camille struggled to stay calm. West raised her eyes in question before turning back to the man beside her. Their easy smiles and close proximity indicated they knew each other, and Camille’s curiosity was piqued. She’d gone all week without exchanging more than a few words with West, and every one had been related to work, but now she wanted to walk over, apologize for their misunderstanding, and start over. Just not in front of Jay. Before she could make a move, West shook the man’s hand and walked toward them. Camille cast a sideways glance at Jay who wore a big grin. “Don’t.”
Jay raised her arms in a classic “Who me?” and took a step back.
“Judge Avery.” West’s voice was cool, calm.
“West.” Camille wanted to ask what she was doing downtown, but even that simple question seemed too personal, so she said the first inane thing that came to mind. “Beautiful day for a walk, isn’t it?” She heard Jay clear her throat and knew she’d take a ribbing later. “You headed to the park?”
“Actually, I was headed to the office. I thought I’d get a jump on some of the case files for Monday. And you?”
Camille started to answer, but Jay appeared at her side with her hand stuck out toward West. “Hi, I’m Jaylyn Renner, friend of Camille’s.”
West paused for a moment and then shook Jay’s hand. “West Fallon. I’m one of Judge Avery’s clerks.”
“Is that so?” Jay shot a look at Camille, and she wanted to melt into the sidewalk. “Well, Judge Avery here was headed into the office too. Guess you can both get some work done, you know, without the distraction of everyone else.”
Camille wanted to punch her and she would’ve if West wasn’t looking, but the best thing she cou
ld do to minimize the destruction was to act like nothing was off. “It’s true. I get more done when the phones aren’t ringing, but, West, there’s no need for you to go in since I’ll be there.”
West cocked her head. “Are you telling me I can’t?”
“Well, of course you can if you want to. I just meant…” She let the words trail off because she really had no good answer. Was the very idea of being alone with West at the office so scary she couldn’t handle it? Clearly, West had decided to stick around despite their disastrous dinner, and if they were going to make it through the next year working together, she was going to have to be alone with her on occasion. She made a snap decision to dive in and get used to the temperature. “Actually, since you’re headed that way, maybe we can go over the motion in the Wilson case. I’ve been giving it some thought after reading the memo you prepared, and I have some ideas.” Camille turned to Jay. “Okay if I bail on you here?”
Jay looked between them and gave her a knowing smile. “Absolutely. I have shopping to do, but since you’ve already found what you need, you should go with it.” She waved at West. “Very nice to meet you, West Fallon. Have a wonderful afternoon.”
Camille watched Jay as she walked up the block, reluctant to face West now that they were alone. It was one thing to act like she was in charge, but quite another to play the part when she was feeling so disconcerted.
“Your friend seems nice.”
Camille turned to face West. “She’s pushy, overbearing, and opinionated. And I love her for it.”
“Friends like that are important.” West shifted in place. “If you were just being nice because she was standing there, that’s cool. I can come by some other time to work on the case files.”