The Lawyer (3 page)

Chapter 5

              My first day at Smith and Smith was a bright, sunny morning. Despite the cold weather, the sun was warm as I parked my car and made my way into the brilliantly lit lobby. I had bought a new outfit just for my first day: a nice pencil skirt and a white blouse. I scratched at my uncomfortable pantyhose, hoping no one would notice how out of place and awkward I felt. My too-high heels clicked loudly against the marble floor as I made my way to the elevator.
              I pushed the “up” arrow button and after a moment, the loud “ding” of the elevator greeted me. I stepped inside and took a deep breath. It was a relief to be alone for a moment. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in an elevator full of handsome businessmen who were all using words and phrases I’d never even heard of. Alex had warned me that there would be a learning curve, but that he still expected precision.
              To say I was nervous would be an understatement.
              The 11
th
floor arrived all too soon as I made my way to the receptionist’s desk.
              “May I help you?” The dark haired, professional-looking woman did not offer me a smile as she asked. I glanced down at my blouse and suddenly felt out of place. She was wearing a formal pantsuit, her hair was styled perfectly, and her makeup was flawless.
                “Um, yes. Hi. I’m here for my first day of work. I’m Alex’s new assistant.”
              The woman frowned as she looked me up and down. “
Mister
Smith is in a meeting,” she told me coldly. “You can wait there.” She pointed a perfectly-manicured finger at a lone chair in the corner.
              “Thank you,” I told her politely and turned to the chair. My heels clicked the entire way and I immediately regretted wearing something so noisy to work. I made a mental note to go shoe shopping as soon as I got my first paycheck.
              The chair was warm and comfortable and I tried to look as neat as possible as I crossed my legs and picked up a magazine on the end table. The receptionist shot me one more glare before she began typing on her computer. I wondered what her story was. Did she want the position I had gotten? Did she like Alex? Was she just hostile toward new people? Had she recently gone through a painful breakup and just couldn’t deal with other women enough to be kind?
              I sighed and glanced at the silver clock that hung above her desk. Alex had told me 9:00 sharp, and it was almost 9:15. I tried not to fidget as I looked back toward the magazine and tried to make myself interested in sugar cookie recipes and learning how to keep my figure despite having children.
              The seconds on the clock ticked by slowly, one by one. The receptionist answered phone call after phone call, taking notes and messages and promising people that someone would return their call as quickly as possible. Finally, at 9:45, I approached the receptionist again. She glared at me as I walked toward her in my loudly-clicking heels, but I ignored her.
              “Excuse me, but I was told to be here right at 9:00. It’s my first day. Is Alex still in a meeting?”
              “
Mister
Smith will let you know when he is ready for you.” She told me in a firm voice.
              “But I was supposed to be here 45 minutes ago. Surely there’s something I could do while I’m waiting. Paperwork, maybe? I haven’t filled out any new employee paperwork.”
              The girl glanced around and then lowered her voice to me, “Look, Sweetie. The best thing I can tell you is to bring a book. Mr. Smith works on his own schedule. Both of the Smiths do. So it doesn’t really matter if he told you to be here at 9:00 or if he told you to be here at 9:05. What matters is that when he walks through that door,” she motioned to a glass door that opened to a hallway, “you be right here, waiting and eager for him.”
              “Sounds like you’ve been working here awhile,” I told her.
              Pursing her lips, she nodded, then she added, “You should go sit down and act like you’ve been waiting patiently this whole time. Don’t put up a fuss about those boys keeping you waiting. They have their power trips. All lawyers do.”
              Compliantly, I returned to my seat. As soon as I had finished crossing my legs, the door opened and Alex appeared in a freshly pressed suit.
              “Good morning, Isabelle.” He greeted his receptionist, not looking at me.
              “Good morning, Mr. Smith.”
              “Do I have any messages?”
              “Yes, Mr. Smith. The Alfonzo brothers called twice and want to know what the status of their case is. Mrs. Miller called and would like you to call her back, and Alisha Montal called and would like to interview you for the
Times
.” She handed Alex a stack of messages, which he took with a thin smile.
              “Thank you, Isabelle.”
              “My pleasure, Mr. Smith. Can I do anything else for you?”
              “That will be all.”
              “Oh, and Mr. Smith?”
              “Yes, Isabelle?”
              Isabelle pointed to me. “That young lady is here to see you.”
              Alex turned to me, finally seeming to notice that I was here. “Ah, Miss Brown.”
              I stood, although he handed asked me to. “Good morning,” I held out my hand to shake his. With an amused smile, Alex complied and shook my hand. “What can I do for you this morning?”
              Shocked, and a little appalled, I answered, “It’s my first day. You asked me to be here at 9:00.”
              “Ah, so I did, but it is now nearly ten.”
              “I was here promptly at nine. Isabelle informed me that you were in a meeting.”
              Alex’s eyes twinkled. Was he amused that he had kept me waiting? He was, wasn’t he? He really was on some sort of power trip. I sighed, inwardly. Was taking this job a terrible idea? Had I made a huge mistake? The coffee shop had been boring, stressful, and never paid enough, but at least I could count on tops and a free meal while I was working. Now I didn’t even have that, and Sandy was so mad that I quit there was no way she’d give me my old position back. Worse than that, she knew the other coffee shop owners in town and one call from her was all it would take to ensure I’d never be a barista again.
              Just my luck.
              As if reading my mind, Alex said, “I sincerely apologize for keeping you waiting, Miss Brown. Please, will you come with me, and I’ll get you started on your new employee paperwork.”
              Irritated, but ready to get started, I quietly followed Alex down the narrow hallway. My clicking heels didn’t seem to bother Alex, who marched straight down the hall and, at the end, entered the office on the left. I barely had time to glance at the portraits on the walls of him and a man I assumed to be his father. Both men were obviously fantastic at what they did, although I wondered, due to his age, how long Alex had actually been practicing law.
              I entered a small waiting room with an empty desk at the end. Another door sat behind it. Alex’s name was in large letters on a gold plate on the door.
              “This will be your desk,” he nodded toward the desk. “You’ll be responsible for taking calls, arranging appointments, keeping track of my schedule, and making sure my clients are comfortable while they wait for me.”
              Without another word, and before I could really glance around, Alex entered his office.
              I followed. The room was bright and open and comfortable. A large desk sat at the end of the room with two comfortable chairs in front. A large bookshelf took up one wall while a small table set against the other wall. On the table were cookies and snacks, a bottle of wine, and a pitcher of water.
              “Please take a seat,” Alex said nonchalantly as he closed the door.
              Quietly, I obeyed, and Alex produced a pile of paperwork that he placed in front of me on his desk.
              “You can start by filling these out.” He placed a black ballpoint pen next to the pile. “Print only and do not smudge the ink. Make sure your handwriting is readable. Have you had penmanship training?”
              “Um, like in third grade.”
              Alex sighed. “Basically, we want to keep up a professional appearance. Sloppy, unreadable handwriting is impermissible and grounds for dismissal. What I need from you is to make sure that everything you write is completely readable and very, very neat. Can you handle that?”
              “Yes,” I told him without hesitation. After my coffee shop days, pleasing people was not something I struggled with anymore.
              “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Fill those out.”
              Alex left, closing the door quietly behind him. Suddenly, I found myself alone with a stack of paperwork and the daunting task of making sure everything I wrote was perfect. With a sigh, I picked up the pen and began writing. Would every day be this stressful?

Chapter 6

              “How was work?”
              “Oh, you
really
don’t want to know.”
              Tim kissed me softly as I slumped onto the couch. He smelled like coffee and vanilla: scents I knew well and scents that I usually appreciated, but not today. Today I was completely exhausted. I slipped my heels off and rubbed the bottoms of my aching feet.
              “That bad?” He asked gently.
              “That bad.”
              Tim was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, surrounded by a fast food bag, two soda cans, a stack of notebook paper, three pens, two hi-lighters, and an Economics textbook that was bigger than my head.
              “Getting ready for your test?” I asked, nodding toward his stack of study supplies. Without a word, Tim nodded and leaned back into the couch. The dark circles under his eyes let me know just how tired he really was. All the coffee in the world wasn’t enough to help you get ready for a test in a subject you really felt lost in. I knew that better than anyone.
              “It’s tomorrow,” he told me, sighing loudly. “I’ve known about it for weeks but things have been so crazy at work lately.”
              “Training the new girl?”
              Tim looked away. “Yeah, she’s been a challenge.”
              I felt bad, momentarily, but I tried to brush the feeling away. It wasn’t really
my
fault that Tim was the one who had gotten stuck training my replacement, was it? Granted, she had no prior coffee experience or even restaurant experience, but she couldn’t really be
that
bad, right? After all, there was a learning curve at any job. And besides, Tim was really stressed out with his classes.
              I wondered, as he picked his book up again and resumed reading, if he resented the fact that I had quit and if he resented the fact that I had quit for Alex. Tim wasn’t really the jealous type, but maybe he’d make an exception for something like this. After all, Alex was an attractive, successful man. He was a little older than we were, a little more experienced, and a little more edgy.
              I liked him and I respected him. He was blunt, to-the-point, and you always knew where you stood with him. With Sandy, I never really knew what she was thinking or what she wanted from me. She changed the schedules
all
the time and “forgot” to tell people. She wasn’t a good trainer. She routinely kept the tips that the baristas earned and she was constantly playing favorites. I didn’t think I’d really miss the job that much. After all, the only thing I really loved about working there was Tim, but I had him right here.

**
              The alarm buzzed too early. I slapped it off and rolled out of bed. Tim was still snoring loudly on his side of the bed. His discarded textbook lay on the floor by the bed. I wondered how late he’d been up studying. Poor guy. I knew he’d do great on his test. Regardless of how well Tim understood something, he was an excellent test taker and always managed to pull off the most difficult of tasks.               I glanced at the clock and wondered, for a brief moment, why I had taken this job. It was too early, too cold, too miserable and the last thing I wanted to do was shower,
blow dry
my hair, style it, deal with makeup, squeeze myself into pantyhose, and march off to work, but that’s exactly what I did.                 While working at the coffee shop, I might have occasionally shoved my wet hair into a sloppy bun or ponytail and called it a day, I didn’t dare try something like that with Alex. I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about him, but he definitely took charge. He was used to getting his way, for sure, and he didn’t seem like the kind of guy I wanted to cross. I wasn’t scared of him, but I was slightly turned on by the powerful essence he exuded. If Alex Smith told you to do something, you did it. End of story.
              I arrived at work five minutes early and, before I headed inside, checked my makeup one last time. I hadn’t done anything fancy, but it looked nice. My hair was neatly dried and straightened, falling just past my shoulders. I got out of my car and straightened my skirt self-consciously. Would I
ever
get used to wearing skirts, blouses, and heels? Sigh.
              “Good morning, Isabelle,” I greeted the receptionist when I entered the Smith and Smith offices. She barely looked up and instead mumbled something I could only
imagine
meant, “Why, good morning Elizabeth. How are you doing today? Welcome back for your first full day of work!”
              I paused for a moment before pushing the door to the hallway, but after taking a deep breath, I was ready. I headed down the hall and entered Alex’s waiting room, the one where I’d be working. The waiting room was empty, so I walked over to his office door to see if he was in yet. I knocked gently but there was no answer, so I pushed on the door. It didn’t budge. With the door firmly locked, I supposed Alex wasn’t in yet, so I made myself comfortable at my own desk.
              It was a large, full sized desk. It was the type of desk you’d see in a movie, not the type of desk you’d have in your home. It almost felt
too
big. There was a computer on the desk, along with a small jar of pens. The left side of the desk had “Inbox” and “Outbox” trays where I would presumably put important documents for Alex. I opened the top drawer, which revealed absolutely nothing. It was empty. The drawers on the side of the desk were also empty.
              “It’s not much, but you’ll make it your own, I’m sure.”
              I glanced up hastily at the sound of Alex’s voice. I hadn’t even heard him come in. I paused for a second and subconsciously bit my lower lip. Damn, did he look good. His freshly pressed suit highlighted all his best features and brought his eyes more than anything. I felt like a hungry wolf devouring him with my own eyes, so I quickly blinked and looked down at my hands.
              “Good morning, Alex.”
              “How was your evening, Elizabeth?”
              “It was fine. Yours?” I looked up and met his eyes again, surprised to find that he had been staring at me the entire time and had the faintest hit of a grin.
              “It was fine. Shall we get started? Please, come into my office.”
              I followed Alex as he unlocked the door to his office and settled in at his desk. I made myself comfortable in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he explained what he needed from me today. It seemed that most of what I would be doing would vary based on which clients Alex had appointments with.
              “Most of my clients need basic legal documents made: wills, Power of Attorneys, and so on. Occasionally I will litigate a divorce or assist with criminal charges, but I primarily handle estates and real estate legal issues. My father,” Alex continued, leaning back in his chair, “solely handles divorces.”
              “Why divorce?” I asked.
              “Because he is divorced, and thinks it was the best thing that ever happened to him,” Alex said simply.
              “If you ask me, the best thing would have been not getting married in the first place.”
              Alex raised an eyebrow at me and I quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean your parents shouldn’t have gotten married,” I backtracked. “I just mean that it would have been simpler and cleaner to not have gotten married in the first place.”
              “I’m not here to get in a moral debate with you, Elizabeth,” Alex told me gently. “I’m just explaining how the office works and what type of work we do here. Do you have a personal or moral objection to working for an office of lawyers who do handle divorces?”
              “No, I don’t.”
              “Good.”
              Alex handed me a stack of paperwork to review before his first client arrived, along with a manual for navigating the computer software I’d be using to handle his appointments and schedule. I settled in at my desk and began reading the manual. While it wasn’t interesting, it helped the time pass until 9:00am when the door to the waiting room opened and a sharply dressed older woman entered. Her heels clicked loudly as she walked across the floor to my desk. Seriously, what
was
that? Could Alex not afford something called a “carpet”?
              “Good morning,” I greeted the woman with a smile.
              “Who are you?” She asked, looking me up and down. “You new, young lady?”
              “Why, yes. I’m Mr. Smith’s assistant, Elizabeth. It’s a pleasure to meet you. You must be Mrs. Steinbaugh.” I felt instantly relieved that I’d remembered to glance over Alex’s schedule for today and learned the names of his clients.
              “I am. I have an appointment at 9:00. You might let him know I’m here, eh?” The woman had no time for nonsense or procedure and simply took a seat in one of the chairs. I nodded and knocked gently on Alex’s door. Peeking my head inside, I told him, “Mrs. Steinbaugh is here to see you.”
              “Send her in,” Alex waved at me without looking up from his computer.
              “Mrs. Steinbaugh,” I told the woman, “Mr. Smith is ready for you.”
              “Thank you. Elizabeth, was it?” Mrs. Steinbaugh stood and made her way quickly and loudly across the floor. She paused for a moment at my desk before entering Alex’s office and lowered her head toward me briefly. “You’ll do fine, Sweetie. Just keep your head up and don’t let any of Mr. Smith’s silliness go to your head.” With that, she entered the office and shut the door.