Blindfolded Innocence (39 page)

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Authors: Alessandra Torre

BOOK: Blindfolded Innocence
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At 8pm, I heard the elevator ding and walked out to the lobby to meet Jerome.
 
From behind the East Wing doors, I could hear voices and see lights.
 
My brow furrowed.
 
It was odd for anyone on their staff to work past 6 or 6:30.
 
I helped Jerome by grabbing one of the bags, and he followed me to the conference room, where I had cleared off a section of the table.
 
"Want to eat here with us?" I asked.

 

"No, I appreciate the offer, but I need to be back at my post."
 
Jerome gave me a quick smile and held up one of the bags.
 
"Thanks for the sandwich."

 

"Sure.
 
Thanks for picking it up."
 
I hesitated, wanting to ask what was going on in the East Wing, and who was still there.
 
I refrained, and just sat down instead.
 
I laid out the sandwiches, and went to the kitchen to get drinks.
 
"Food's here!" I called out to Broward, who nodded and held up a finger.
 

 

I sat down in the conference room and unrolled my philly cheesesteak.
 
Cracking open a Dr Pepper, I ate, enjoying the chance to relax.
 
My neck was killing me, and I rolled it a few times, trying to get the kinks out.
 
I heard Broward come in behind me, and I lifted my chin in greeting and pointed to his sub, which I had laid out on a plate with a napkin.

 

"Thanks Julia," he said, settling down and unwrapping the sub.
 
I slid a Coke down the table to him.

 

"What do you normally do for dinner?"
 
the words popped out before I thought them through.
 
He looked up at me quizzically, sub in his mouth.
 
"I mean, you always work so late - till at least eight, and it doesn't seem like you pack a dinner…"

 

He shrugged and wiped his mouth.
 
"Claire - my wife, she makes a plate for me, keeps it in the fridge.
 
I eat it when I get home.
 
We've been married 12 years; she's used to my schedule."

 

"Do you always plan on working such long hours?"

 

He stared at me for a moment.
 
I'm not sure if he was thinking or just staring, but finally he responded.
 
"At the moment, I work to live.
 
We are very cautious with our spending, and set aside ample amounts for retirement.
 
In nine or ten years I plan on retiring, to either North Maine or the outskirts of Chicago."

 

I nodded, trying to think of something to say other than "BORING."
 
"Sounds nice."

 

"We are really excited about it.
 
Claire is a stay at home mom and when the kids graduate, then me and her are really looking forward to some one-on-one time, a chance to get to know each other more."
 
Something I would have thought you would have done during the first 12 years of your marriage, but I'm not really the person who should be giving relationship advice.
 

 

"How long have you worked here?"

 

"Let's see now - eleven years.
 
Been a partner for nine.
 
I worked at another firm - Daly & Fountain before here - perhaps you've heard of them?"

 

I nodded even though their name drew a blank in my mind.

 

"I thought so.
 
They are a big firm, though not as big as us."

 

"Why did you choose to come here?"

 

"Well, at the time it was just Clarke Law Firm, and I knew that a partnership opportunity was in the cards."
 
I ate my sub quietly.
 
The absolute last thing I wanted to do was have the conversation turn to Brad.
 
Which, of course, it did next.

 

"I became partner after two years and considerable effort.
 
Back then, it took more than large billings to gain partner status."
 
His contemptible tone just asked for a response, but I stayed far away from the low hanging fruit and took another bite of cheese steak.
 
The silence grew, and he finally continued unaided.
 

 

"I mean, when Brad came on, for example.
 
He was with us for only six months before Clarke approached him about partner status.
 
I was vehemently against the idea, but Clarke's shares overrode my opinion.
 
Brad is just cut from a different cloth than us.
 
He doesn't understand the hard work behind law."
 
Bitterness laced his voice and my rebellious side spoke up before I had a chance to rein it in.

 

"Is that why you told me to stay away?"

 

"What?"

 

"You've told me twice now, to stay away from the East Wing, and from De Luca specifically.
 
Why?"
 
He shot me a perturbed look, as if irritated that I would question his authority.
 
I held my gaze steady, despite the battle that raged inside of me.

 

He avoided my gaze, and suddenly seemed very interested in the remaining piece of his meatball sub.
 
Finally he set it down and looked at me.
 
"I don't like De Luca, Julia.
 
Some in this office would say I hate him, but that isn't the case.
 
I dislike Brad for two reasons.
 
One, I don't think he displays the work ethic or ethical standards that I would like upheld by our office. But second, and I apologize for the language, six years ago Brad fucked my wife."

 

---

 

I gasped and stared at him, my half-eaten piece of sandwich hanging limply in my mouth.
 
Somehow, ridiculously, I felt tears welling up somewhere behind my corneas, and I blinked them off.
 
I didn't know what to say and I stumbled over the next sentence.

 

"I'm so sorry."

 

He stared off in the distance and pursed his lips, then shook his head.
 
"I shouldn't have told you that.
 
I'm sorry.
 
It's too personal.
 
I just wanted to give you an honest reason.
 
You are a beautiful, innocent, young woman and it was very inappropriate for me to assume anything, but I didn't want you to fall into his trap like other interns have.
 
You seem too intelligent for that, but I wanted to give you a warning anyway."
 

 

I blinked at him, not really knowing what to say.
 
Then I nodded, my eyes grim.
 
"Trust me, that's one thing you don't have to worry about."

 

---

 

We ate the rest of our meal in silence, me having too many questions that were way too personal to ask, and him seeming to prefer brooding silence over chatter.
 
Once we finished, I cleared our plates and we continued working, the sound of papers shuffling and keys clicking the only sounds in our deserted wing.
 

 

---

 

I drove home with the radio off and the windows down, trying to think.
 
I don't know what I even had to think about.
 
Any confusion I had about Brad should have been answered by this new information.
 
Brad slept with his business partner's wife.
 
Enough said. So what did I have to think about?
 
Nothing.
 
I rolled up my windows and tried to think about anything other than De Luca.
  

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
29

 

 

Tuesday at 1pm my office line finally rang with De Luca's extension showing.
 
I ignored it, letting voicemail pick up.
 
He didn't leave a message.
 
He called again at 3pm; again I ignored the phone.
 
With Broward in Dallas, the workday was light, and at 4:45pm I started packing up, preparing to leave.
 
I wandered by Sheila's desk, and spent the last 15 minutes of the day chatting up the older woman.
 
She had warmed to me considerably over the last few weeks, and now bordered on almost friendly.
 
I was intent on cracking her shell before my internship ended.
 

 

I pressed the down button on the elevator and waited in the lobby for it to arrive.
 
Todd came through the East Wing doors and gave me a big smile.
 
We waited, the doors opened, and we got on together.
 
When the doors shut, we both started talking at once.
 
I stopped, and Todd hesitated.
 

 

"Go ahead," I said with a laugh.

 

"I was just going to ask if you were free, tonight or tomorrow.
 
To, ah, hang out."

 

"Tomorrow would be better.
 
Do you have my number?"

 

"Yeah.
 
It's on the intern roster Dr. Ennis distributed the first day."
 

 

"Great."
 
I looked at my feet as the elevator doors opened on the garage floor.
 
He stepped out, and we kind of shuffled around.
 

 

"So, tomorrow night?" he asked.
 

 

"Yeah, tomorrow night.
 
See you then."

 

"I'll call you.
 
Maybe around 8?"

 

"Sounds good Todd.
 
Night."

 

He gave a quick wave and spun on his heel, sauntering to his truck, a late-model Ford F150.
 
I headed to my car and stopped short.
 
There was a note tucked into the window.
 
I opened it cautiously.
 
It was a hand scribbled note, on thick embossed paper.
 
It had only one word, and initials scribbled underneath.

 

Dinner?

BDL

 

I crumpled the note as tight as possible, then had an idea.
 
I uncrumpled the paper, ripped it in half, and then recrumpled the two pieces.
 
I looked around for the car I had passed in Brad's driveway.
 
I saw it, parked right by the elevators in one of the three "Reserved" spots.
 
A brand new BMW 750Li, white, with a personalized tag: B D BEST.
 
Nauseating
.
 
I strode over and dropped the crumpled pieces in Brad's open skylight, the pieces falling onto the driver's seat.
 
What was really shocking was that the man was still at work at 5:15pm.
 

 

I felt like I had accomplished something by the time I got into my car, and cranked up the radio as I backed up and pulled out of the garage.
 
I had plenty to smile about.
 
I was currently flush with cash, had made a decision with the Brad debacle, and had a date tomorrow night with a smoking hot guy.

 

---

 

Todd and I decided to stay in and watch a movie at his place.
 
He let me pick, so I tried to pick something guy-friendly and went with Old School.
 
It was a typically college date - a barely disguised excuse to hook up, a date with minimal expense and effort from the guy - but I didn't really care.
 
I was pissed at the Brad situation and wanted a rebound.
 
Todd was available and hot.
 
I didn't need much more than that right now.
 

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