by Aimie Grey
“Thanks, Brandy,” I said, not breaking my stride until I sat behind my ostentatious desk. A movement caught my eye, and I finally noticed that I’d been followed.
“Do you need something?” I asked. She rarely left her post unless she was called away by one of the attorneys, needed to escort a client to the waiting area, or was on her lunch break. Everyone on the firm’s payroll joked about her bladder of steel since we never saw her leave to take care of her biological needs.
“I have a personal favor to ask—feel free to say no.” She chewed her bottom lip and fidgeted with her fingers.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
She hesitated, opening and closing her mouth as if she was debating on whether or not to speak.
Realizing I would have to drag it out of her, I prompted her again. “Go ahead and ask. If I can do it, I will. You’ve always been a good friend to me, especially during the rough times.” More than one evening, she had gone out for a drink with me after work and helped me work through the pros and cons of leaving the firm.
Keeping her eyes on the wall behind me, she finally spit it out. “This is kind of embarrassing for me, and I don’t want you to feel any pressure to agree. It’s also really last minute, and I know how busy you are.” I gestured for her to continue when she paused again. “I met this guy online, and he asked if I wanted to go out tomorrow tonight. His profile sounds amazing, and I enjoy chatting with him, but I’m nervous about meeting him in person, even in public. Would you and Alissa mind coming with us, like on a double date, just in case he’s psycho? You used to be a cop, so I would feel much safer.”
“What’s embarrassing about that?”
“That I signed up for an online dating site. It’s just I don’t have time to go out and try to meet guys the more conventional way.”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. A lot of people are doing it these days. You’re like a little sister to me, and I definitely want to check this guy out to make sure he isn’t a pervert.” The calendar on my phone showed Alissa and I didn’t have any plans for the following evening, and I didn’t think Alissa would mind since she and Brandy usually had lunch together after Alissa’s four-hour shifts on Tuesdays and Fridays. “Let me run it by Alissa, and I’ll let you know for sure.”
Finally looking me in the eye with a wide smile on her face, she said, “I really appreciate it.”
“I’ll text Alissa now; she usually gets back to me within an hour or so, depending on what’s going on with the kids.”
Brandy thanked me again and then returned to her desk. I fired off the text to Alissa and received her response less than two minutes later telling me she’d love to go. Between typing a reply to Alissa and then sending an instant message to Brandy to get the details, I only half-listened to the associate dropping off a stack of files for new cases I’d been assigned.
When I finally got my messages sorted out and took care of a few important emails, I flipped through the stack of files sitting on the corner of my desk and froze when I reached the fourth folder in the pile. If I had been a pressure cooker, someone would have had to scrape brain matter from the ceiling.
Without a second thought, I dropped all of the other files on my desk and stormed to my father’s corner office. Ignoring his assistant’s pleas to keep out, I pushed through the door to find my father standing behind his desk, kissing my mother. The tableau in front of me momentarily disrupted my train of thought; never in my life had I seen them display any affection toward one another. When they broke apart at my interruption, I quickly regained my momentum.
“What the fuck is this?” Papers flew across my father’s desk as the thick manila folder slammed down onto its mahogany surface. No one else in the firm would dare speak to the managing partner in such a way, but I wouldn’t have given a shit even if we weren’t related. “You know how I feel about this client; it’s the main reason I left the firm in the first place. I refuse to defend a company who treats its employees like shit, doesn’t give a fuck if its products are safe, and pollutes every goddamn thing on the face of God’s green earth. What are they in trouble for this time? Sweat shops? Kicking puppies?”
“A class-action sexual harassment suit,” my mother answered calmly.
“I’m surprised this is the first one. Why do we even defend people like this?” My feet could have dented the floor with the blows from my furious pacing. When I’d been assigned this case last year, I’d been second chair to one of the partners. Now, they wanted me to be the lead attorney.
“Every entity is entitled to a good defense. Did you learn nothing in school?” my father asked.
“You know what, fire me, sue me, send me to bed without dessert—do whatever the fuck you want to me; I will not be a part of this case!”
“All right; we’ll give it to Bill Stevens,” my father said.
Nearly tripping as my feet came to an abrupt halt, I swung my narrow gaze back to him. “You’re agreeing? Just like that?”
“We aren’t monsters, Carter. You’re our son, and we don’t want you to be miserable,” my mother said while flipping through the pages she’d gathered from my father’s desk. “This will be a very time-consuming case, dear, and it requires immediate attention. They don’t like to settle, which is nice for our bottom line; however, it takes a lot of man hours. If we give it to Stevens, you’ll have to take something off his plate.”
“Isn’t his case load fairly light right now?” Everyone had given brief status updates on their active cases at a meeting earlier in the week, so I knew he wasn’t bogged down with clients.
“He’s working with Max from accounting to prepare the biennial budget, which is being presented to the partners for approval two weeks from this coming Monday,” my mother said. “If we give this case to Bill, you’ll need to work with Max to finish up the budget in addition to your other cases.”
“Done.” Due in such a short period of time, it was probably close to completion anyway. I briefly wondered how Alissa would feel about me working with Max…
“Good, now go see Bill and get up to speed.” The triumph on my father’s face made me wonder if I had just been played.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Carter
Alissa bounced on her toes as I pulled up to the curb to pick her up from Saint Jerome’s. After opening the passenger door, she lifted the stack of folders I’d brought with me from the firm and sat down with them on her lap, and the excitement on her face fell away.
“What’s wrong? You seemed so happy thirty seconds ago.” I reached over and laced our fingers together.
“I was until reality hit me. Can we talk about it when we get to Dr. Wyles’s office?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Briefly taking my eyes from the road to glance over at her, I realized her insecurity had taken over. “Sure.”
We made it to the office building in twenty minutes, and after parking the car, I jogged around to open her door. Taking her hand, we made our way in silence to the elevator and then up the therapist’s office on the fourth floor.
After a short wait, the doctor called us into her office, and as usual, we sat on the brown leather couch. What was not usual, however, was how Alissa sat with her body pressed up against mine. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and caught Dr. Wyles’s eye; she had also noticed the change in Alissa’s behavior.
“So, how have things been since we saw each other last week?” Dr. Wyles asked with her focus on Alissa.
I waited for Alissa to answer, but she remained quiet. “Good,” I said to take the pressure off my girl. “We went to the doctor for our tests this morning,” I shared, trying to give Alissa more time to gather her thoughts. “They said it usually takes a week to get the results, but the lab is backed up right now, so it might be a little longer.”
“How do you feel about that, Alissa?”
“Good,” she answered quietly.
“You don’t sound very sure,” Dr. Wyles responded.
“Ba
be, you know this doesn’t mean we have to have sex right away. We can wait until you’re ready.”
The quiet that ensued gave my mind time to wander, which led me to worry. What if the trip to the doctor this morning freaked her out and she wants to end our relationship? Even more terrifying, what if she was sick? “Did the doctor call? Is something wrong?”
“Oh, sorry, it’s not that; I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m just a little preoccupied. I think I’m ready to move forward when the results come back; these sessions have really helped.” After Alissa moved in with me, I started coming to therapy with her on Thursday’s while she continued to see Dr. Wyles two additional days per week for individual counseling.
“Is there something you’d like to discuss, Alissa?” the doctor asked.
Not giving her a chance to answer, I asked a question of my own. “Have you changed your mind about us?”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest. “But I’m afraid you will when I tell you something.”
“Babe, you can tell me anything. I’m not going anywhere.” The doctor remained quiet, letting us have this moment but ready to offer support if needed.
Alissa glanced up for a split second, just long enough for me to see the fear in her eyes. “How upset would you be if I told you I didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore?” she asked into my shirt. Not skipping a beat, she dove right into the speech she must have been rehearsing in her head. “I know we went through hell, and I hurt you because of how I earned money to pay for law school, and I know you’ve given up so much for me to have my dream, but—”
Sweet relief. “Babe, look at me.” With a finger under her chin, I guided her gaze up to meet mine. “If you wanted to be a trash collector, I would support you as long as it made you happy.”
Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “Really?”
“Really. If you think about it, I didn’t give up anything for you to be a lawyer, specifically. I went back to work for my parents so Hastings would represent you. It was well worth it to keep you out of court and possibly prison. Plus, whatever you want to do, it’ll be much easier to achieve with a clean record.” I placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
“How does that make you feel, Alissa?” Dr. Wyles asked.
“Better,” she said. She was still tightly wound, so I knew that wasn’t everything she had to say.
“Do you have a new dream?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t think it’s a new dream. It’s more like I’ve been focusing on the means instead of the goal.”
“That’s very insightful,” the doctor said when Alissa paused for a moment.
“All I’ve ever wanted to do is help kids so they wouldn’t end up like me. As a teenager, I got it in my head being a lawyer was the best way to do it. For years, that goal has been the carrot on the stick—it’s what’s kept me moving forward instead of repeating the cycle of my past.
“Since I began volunteering at Saint Jerome’s, I’ve realized lawyers don’t get involved until after the initial damage has been done. I guess I always knew that, but it didn’t really sink in until I actually saw it. I love what I’ve been doing, and I feel like I’ve helped people. I enjoy working with the same kids on a daily basis. I get to see them grow, and I also get to help guide them. This work fills my heart. I can’t prevent the events that start the kids down the path I was sent down, but I can help guide them to the right one when they reach the fork in the road.”
“Do you want to keep volunteering? You know I’ll support you.”
“I doubt I’ll ever be able to be dependent upon someone else, but that’s moot. Right before my shift ended today, Desiree, the director,” she clarified for Doctor Wyles, “pulled me into her office and basically offered me a permanent full-time job. One of the social workers is pregnant and has decided to stay home with her baby. Desiree said I’d have to apply, but it would just be a formality for the files, and I can start when Marlene leaves in a month or so. She also said working there would count toward the required hours needed to get my license.”
“That’s amazing, babe.”
“It is. It just feels right.”
“Is that why you seemed so excited when I picked you up?” She nodded. “What upset you when you got into the car?”
“I saw the folders from the firm. If I do this, I’ll have to back out of the internship program and quit my job filing for them. Your parents were kind enough to offer it to me, and I don’t want them to think I’m ungrateful or flaky or naive. I know you aren’t close with them, and I don’t want to make your relationship more difficult than it already is. I also don’t want them to hate me before they really get to know me.”
Alissa wanted to get to know my parents? This was one of the first signs she’d given indicating she thought we would be together long-term. “I wouldn’t call it an act of kindness on their part, but don’t worry about them. They might actually be glad to save the money.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Everything will be okay; I promise.” I planted a noisy kiss on the top of her head. “That’s enough seriousness for now. Other than the job offer, how was work today?”
“Great. Nyah, one of the girls I work with, and I had a long conversation about her options for college. She’s really excited.” Her face fell once again. “I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be horrible, though.”
“What makes you say that?” Doctor Wyles asked. Alissa and I both turned toward her since we’d basically forgotten she was there.
“Tara, one of the other girls, turns eighteen tomorrow. I’m worried she’s going to find her inner Lisa, if you know what I mean. I haven’t been able to get through to her yet, and I don’t know how I can help once she leaves.”
“Aren’t there programs to help kids transition from foster care to living on their own?” I asked. “Surely they don’t just kick them out on the street.”
“She could’ve signed up to remain in state custody for another three years while she goes to college, but she’s desperate for freedom. Tara’s been in the system for as long she can remember. She wasn’t interested in the military, since it would be going from one institution to another, and she didn’t believe in herself enough to even apply to residential universities. I have no idea where she’s going to sleep tomorrow, and I doubt she does either.
“Without help, so many of these kids will go down the same path I did, or worse. And what about all of the kids who leave home when they turn eighteen because of abuse, or get kicked out with nowhere to go? Who’s going to help them?
“Desiree created an amazing proposal for a resource center to help these kids. As long as they were working on bettering themselves, it would offer food and temporary shelter, counseling, classes on money management, volunteers to help them find jobs, and give them information about college. It’s exactly what this community needs.”
“That sounds great. How long until it opens?” I asked.
“That’s the thing. The way the economy is right now, there aren’t a lot of grants to go around, and the state is only paying for minimum services. Unless she can find private donors, it’s never going to open. I would love to be a part of this, but I have no idea how to help.”
An idea began to take shape in my mind, which reminded me about my day at work. “You’re the smartest, most determined woman I know, and I’ll help you anyway I can.”
“You’re too good for me,” she muttered.
“No, I think you have it backwards.”
“You both need to believe you are good enough for each other. It’s a long fall from the top of the pedestals you have each other on,” the doctor offered, and then informed us that our time was up.
“How was your day?” Alissa asked on the drive home from our session.
“To get out of defending the worst company on earth, I had to trade with someone. Now, I’m stuck doing the firm’s budget in addition to my other cases. The budget is due in a
couple of weeks, so I’m hoping it’s almost done. That’s what’s in all of those files. I’m going to have to go through them this weekend to see what’s left to be done. It won’t take too long, hopefully.
“Sounds like you got a good deal,” she commented.
“Yeah,” I agreed. Almost too good.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Alissa
We planned on meeting Brandy at a casual restaurant across town at six forty on Friday evening. Wanting to make sure her protection squad was in place ahead of time, she asked us to arrive twenty minutes before her date was scheduled to show up. Carter got stuck in a last minute meeting, so by the time he got home, he barely had time to change clothes before we had to leave.
As we headed out the door, Carter finally got a good look at my outfit. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
“Clothes,” I replied with a cheeky glance over my shoulder.
“I can practically see your entire back. You aren’t even wearing a bra.”
Halfway down the hall, I turned to show him the front of my favorite black shirt. “See, I’m covered up. It’s only the back that’s shredded.”
“Why is Reaper’s face on your boobs?” he asked, his eyes and lips both narrowing as he stared at the image of the front man of my favorite band.
“Because I’m Reaper’s girl tonight.” I gave him a “duh” look and pointed to the text below the picture which confirmed I was indeed “Reaper’s Girl” for the evening.
“I don’t like that; you’re my girl.”
“The girls I work with and I bonded over our mutual love of Black Friday, and they made this for me. See, it’s kind of like the one Harmony Stewart wears.” I loved pushing Carter’s buttons. “Are you seriously jealous of a married rock star?”