by Ethan Egorov
I’m starting to think this is going to be a lot worse than I am prepared for.
2
Paige
I seal the last roll of tape over the large brown box, groaning at the tape running out with annoyance. There are still three boxes left to close, and I don’t trust the moving van to get it across town safely. Those things are unreliable, as much as a steady job and fiancé are.
It sucks that I have to pick up my life and move at the drop of a hat. That it’s me who has to uproot my life. But I decided this would be better, a new start. Granted the small town didn’t have any private law offices, and I’m giving up six figures a year and track to partner to do it. But change is good, I’m leaving the city life for something better. I just hope it isn’t as drab as packing up all my stuff is. The apartment I got probably won’t even fit all of it, leaving this house to downsize will be easier to clean anyway.
I’m about to head out and buy more tape, when I hear a car in the driveway.
“Crap,” I groan under my breath. It was all supposed to go smoothly and without having to confront him, but I should have known better, considering this is his place and everything. My name was never on the mortgage statements, the utilities, nothing about me is here anymore.
I ignore the sinking feeling and force myself to walk outside, my car is parked in the driveway and he thankfully didn’t park behind it. With his shiny, over the top beamer. I knew better, than to get involved with one of the managing partners. It blew up in my face, to say the least. It wasn’t my fault. But that doesn’t hurt any less than knowing that it was all his.
“Hey Paige. I thought you would be gone by now.” He walks up the rock path to where I am leaving the front door. The sun beats down over us, and I squint up at Jason. My handsome, rich, charismatic, cheating ex-fiancé.
“I thought so too. I still have some stuff to pack up, I’m just going to get more tape.” I explain. It was so hard to talk to him in the beginning, especially when I tried to make it work after I found out. I confronted him about it, he hadn’t come clean, but he apologized and I believed him. But I felt humiliated at work, she was one of the legal consultants at the firm. Soon, everyone knew and they all took his side even though it was so wrong. Even though he proposed to me in front of all of them, they clapped and cheered and my life was perfect. Until it just wasn’t.
“Oh. Okay. I could have hired someone to pack your stuff for you.” He offers. He talks to me like he didn’t do anything wrong at all, like we are just back to normal.
“That’s fine.” I say. I didn’t grow up rich and privileged like him with a guaranteed career and ivy league admittance. I worked for everything, beat the odds by even getting a job at one of the most prestigious firms in the country, and then he happened. I’m a lawyer, supposed to have good instincts. I didn’t with him.
“Okay. You’re driving yourself?” He gestures to my old car that always stayed in the garage. I had been with him for two years, engaged for the last four months before it all went belly up a month ago. But I moved in with him after a year. When he offered me one of his spare cars that could pay off my student debt—which he already did—it was hard to decline the offer considering my car hasn’t seen an oil change in years.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine, Jason. Not like you actually care. I’m sure you’re just counting the hours until you can move Lisa in.” I scoff and move around him, not wanting to continue this conversation anymore.
“That’s not true, Paige. I do care, I mean I planned on spending the rest of my life with you until—” he cuts himself off, good thing too, because then I don’t have to. I unlock my door, it takes some jostling, and he stops me from getting in the car. He gets close and I smell his familiar cologne and look up at his blue eyes.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“But you want her instead.” I don’t even know why I say that. I’ve washed my hands of him, but part of me will always wonder if we could have made it work. I met him when I was young and new to practicing law, he’s older and more experienced and I never knew why he wanted me but for a while he did. We were going to get married and spend the rest of our lives together and now that’s just gone. It’s hard to believe something like that can just grow legs and walk away.
“I… I don’t know how it happened. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry that you have to be a public defender now.” He adds, trying to be funny. But I don’t find him that way anymore.
“I’m giving back to the community. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here by tonight.” I get in my car and drive away, forcing myself not to look back.
As I suspected, my apartment is small, but it’s cozy and I’m excited to at least decorate it my way. The first place I had was cheaper and I got my decorations from a super store, then came Jason’s generic man who lived alone for years type of house. Now I get a fresh start. And at least there are no bugs.
It takes five or six trips to get all my stuff in to the second floor, it’s a workout by the time I am done but I hate waking up with stuff to do or go to bed without having done it. I finish unpacking, since I sublet the place, the furniture is already here and it’s nice. I dress the bed and make up my room, so the first sight I get of it won’t match the turmoil I feel.
Once I get ready to go to sleep though, tears start to threaten my eyes. I have cried a lot since finding out about Jason and Lisa, and then trying to mend us only to have things end so badly. But I try not to cry over him any longer. When I fail, I tell myself it is from being worried about my new job, about my career in corporate and private law going down the drain. I don’t have anything against public defenders, the pay doesn’t matter to me either, but it will be hard to branch out from it unless I open my own firm.
I have to force myself to think of something else, anything else, just dreading tomorrow coming.
When it does, I’m disoriented about waking up in a new place until I remember everything. That cloud of dread falls over me again but I force it away, I have to stop feeling sorry for myself and dwelling on the past, it will only bring me down.
I focus my attention at getting ready for my first day at a new place. Law is pretty much the same but it is a little different with criminal law. I read up on it, finding stories about public defenders being over worked and sometimes even attacked by more violent criminals. Corporate law doesn’t feature the same risks, so I am going in blind.
“Miss Travers, I’m glad to have you here.” My boss comes from around his desk to shake my hand. He is older, with a cherry red face and rotund belly. He doesn’t have an office, it’s more of a separate area of the wide room with about fifteen other desks where people sit and work, some of which stared at me on my way in. I know I dressed well, blue button up and black skirt that isn’t too tight, but my body shape makes anything look inappropriate. Maybe that’s why Jason even wanted me in the first place, and then he grew bored.
“Thank you.” I pull myself from my thoughts and smile back. Wiping my hands on my skirt when he turns around.
“I can show you to your desk and have someone show you the ropes for today. But I remember your qualifications being astounding, you shouldn’t have a problem. We’ll give you some easy cases for today though.”
I nod and thank him, and he does just that. It’s another young woman that shows me around, she must be close to my age or so and has a kind face, dark brown hair in a pony tail. Her desk is right next to mine too and we get around the small talk for a while.
Before lunch even rolls by, I have three cases stacked on my desk by one of the aides.
“It happens this fast?” I ask aloud, staring at the three thick files.
Kayla, the girl who was showing me around, laughs and turns in her office chair.
“Yep. They might just be dogging you because you came from private law but that won’t happen for much longer.”
“How did word get around that fast?” I make a face.
She giggles, “It just does around here.
Those look like priors though, otherwise they aren’t usually that big. You want some help?” She asks. I glance at the equally large stack she has and shake my head.
“No. Might as well go in all the way.” I answer, lifting the manila file on top.
“Okay. Let me know if you need help.” She smiles and turns back around.
I’m surprised, since no one wanted to help each other at the firm. They all just wanted to stack the most cases, bring in more money to get noticed by the partners. It was a shark tank. I did well in it but only because I kept my head down and didn’t try to compete with anyone but myself. Needless to say I didn’t have many friends, since the partners were always congratulating me. I would have been a partner in three more years maybe, if I hadn’t isolated myself, if they hadn’t taken Jason’s side over mine.
The cases distract me from all that though, they let me be a lawyer again. One that finds out how sad things really are, it’s not all lawsuits and disgruntled customers suing corporations. Staring at a file on a single mom arrested for shoplifting insulin for her kid feels shitty, especially when I know I won’t even get much time with her case. The other two are guilty as hell, but that’s beside the point.
“When do people usually leave?” I ask Kayla. It passed dinner time and I still haven’t eaten, neither has she. A few others have left but the majority is still here. I was in and out of the jail and only went to court once. Apparently, the person in my role before me left abruptly and left cases open that were evenly divided amongst the rest. I only got this because my old professor at law school had a contact. She thankfully hadn’t asked why I needed to start my life over.
“When the cases are all gone. Or whenever they want. Some are better than the others. Once you get into a groove though, you kind of stick to it.” She explains. Then she starts packing up.
All my stacks are gone for the day, so I start packing up too. My boss doesn’t get the hint that it is time to go because he comes personally and hands me a file.
“I know it’s your first day but I was hoping you could handle this? He’s a friend of mine and it should be an easy case.” He finishes. He has this shifty demeanor to him, and I don’t think he is suspicious as much as nervous and keeps staring at my chest.
“Um. Sure.” I take the file as I am already standing and glaze over it.
No priors, the arrest record is there and booking information. It does look fairly easy. I learn quickly. If the arrest record is clean and there are no priors, I’m looking at easy bail and no jail time. They don’t need overcrowding to get any worse. Plus it’s marked as a traffic violation and nothing else.
“Thanks. See you tomorrow. Kayla,” he waves to her and hobbles off.
She gives me a funny look. “Sorry. See you tomorrow.” She grabs her purse and walks off in her brown flats. I decide that tomorrow I won’t wear heels, and I’ll wear a pant suit like her. I still have to be presentable in court so I can’t go too loose.
I sigh at the file in my hand, already wanting to be home eating takeout. But I keep my work face on and head to the jail house where he currently is. I notice the holding on his record, it sucks he has to stay in jail overnight but most DUIs do that, they can get very serious for no reason.
The guy doesn’t even sound violent, I glaze over his name and booking photo—wow.
Mug shots are supposed to make you look like crap, but this looks like a glamour shot. And I don’t want to judge, but the tattoos going up his neck make him look incredibly violent. Something about his eyes changes that, but it’s in black and white, I think I am just telling myself things.
“You can wait in here.” The bookie says to me, after leading me through the jail house. I have somewhat adjusted to the wandering eyes and sense that there are some pretty violent people in here. But it’s a small town, it shouldn’t be that bad.
“Thank you.” I murmur and take a seat in the silver chair.
The interrogation room thing has grown familiar. I am used to conference rooms with pour over coffee and the smell of pastries in the air, but old cleaner and scent of a hundred people in and out of the room push through. I busy myself with the case while waiting for him. I don’t get long and have to speed read like back in college. I’ll have to get better at getting to the point. I spent too long on the single mom’s case, talking about her life rather than the case, but it might help me defend her better anyway. After all, juries are just people like me.
I start to think he isn’t coming until I hear the door swing open. If I look up right away, the photo staring at me will come to me in person and then I might get distracted. I know enough to get that hot guys make my brain go fuzzy, the whole glasses and red hair thing didn’t work for me in high school or college, I had to learn how to make other people seem equal to me.
But I see him out of the corner of my eye. A tall, imposing figure on thick black boots, wearing a leather jacket and jeans, but I am not looking at him directly to see much more than that. Only that once he enters the room, he commands the space even though he is the one that needs me. The door slams shut and he is still standing there, I don’t know if he is staring at me or in shock. Maybe he is fazed about being arrested. But I read the same sentence over and over until I remind myself, I am here to do a job, that he’s just a man.
“Hi there,” his deep voice fills the room. I forget all about what I resolved in that moment, start chewing on my lip like I am some sort of dud. He walks forward and I tense up in the chair, the cold metal hitting my thighs where my skirt doesn’t cover. I cross my legs but it doesn’t do much. I start fidgeting with the papers just to have something to do.
It’s just a voice, I tell myself.
“Hi, we don’t have long so just take a seat and tell me what happened.” I turn the paper over and circle the date, also writing the cops name down.
I push my glasses up my nose and realize my hands are shaking a bit, so I occupy myself with the papers again.
“Do you try not to look at all your clients?” He clears his throat and I feel it down in my groin.
It doesn’t make sense—I have come face to face with lots of men before in the work place, even the clients. But none of them have made me feel like this. Not even Jason, who asked me out on a date before he even knew my last name. I wasn’t nervous then. But right not, my pulse is pattering and it isn’t because I am new to the job.
So I look up, and my breath stills.
He has a hard, rugged face, yet something is soft about him and I think it comes from his eyes. They’re a dark color that may be gray or brown, it possibly could change in the sunlight. But I swiftly remind myself I will never be seeing him when the sun is out. His brows are thick and furrow over his eye line, I follow it down to his angular nose, pointed over a set of full pink lips that he’s scowling with, or trying not to smirk with. I am just trying to look less like a deer caught in headlights, staring at this sexy as sin man. It has to be his tattoos that add to it, dark and light grays and black designs swirling down the sides of his neck and disappearing in his shirt. The leather jacket he has on with some sort of emblem on the front, wraps his muscular arms and I can only imagine what he looks like underneath.
I sit here with my body tremoring and try to find my brain again.
“No I—” I stop and swallow hard, my mouth suddenly very dry. I blink hard and feel my face heating, and I wish I weren’t so pale because I know he notices it.
“We um, don’t have much time. Just tell me your side of the story and your plea and we can move this along.” I try to make my voice firm and steady but it just shakes even more. I haven’t been actually nervous like this since junior high maybe, before I accepted the fact that I have freckles and glasses. Plus I was always in the library studying, the guys there didn’t look like this at all.
“I uh, was driving home when I got pulled over and the officer had me do a breathalyzer and some competency tests then he just decided to arrest me, basically.” He releases a deep b
reath and falls forward on the table. My first instinct is to move back, and my eyes are still trapped with his. I think over what he said, and while it sounds like he is leaving something out it doesn’t necessarily mean he is lying. At least it doesn’t feel like it. I already had my instincts tell me that two people lied today, right off the bat, so that will be hard to defend. But he sounds truthful.
“Okay. That’s not exactly what the cop says happened.” I look down to read off the paper and his hand comes out reaching for it, I put it down because him reading it will just take more time. I watch the elongated veins of his hand flex and pulse but can’t find it in me to give it to him anyway. I may be flustered but I’m not weak.
“What do you mean?” He leans in and I get caught in his gaze again. I think he is trying to use it against me but I beg it not to work.
My mouth falls open and I find my words.
“I mean he says you attacked him, that he thought you were being hostile. So the official charge is still a DUI but the judge might give you the max because of what the cop said.” I explain to him, further reading the cops’ report of what happened. It’s good I haven’t been able to look at him, I spent more time reading this over. The others I had to just glaze over, some of the transcripts can go on for pages.
“That’s bullshit. I didn’t attack anyone,” he gets defensive, a high raise in his tone makes me blink fast and sink as far back in the chair as I can.
I think he realizes it when his face softens, and a pulsing vein in his neck stops.
“Look I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m not like these other guys you see coming in and out of here. I’m just pissed cause I know that he’s lying, he has it out for me. Thank you for helping me anyway.” He sits back and I start to believe him even more, almost all the way. But it still sounds like something fishy is going on. I bet it has to do with the gang type symbol on his jacket, if that’s what it is. The note is that he was on a motorcycle, and I think he might be in one of those clubs, but it could just be the fact that I watch too much tv, too many fictional shows.