When I dragged my tired ass into the office on Sunday morning following her call, she advised me that the Law Firm of Lorraine Cummings had been “acquired” by the firm of Connover and Crown, LLP and starting the very next day, I would report to work at their offices on West 56th.
I loved how she said the word “acquired,” as if she was some sort of conglomeration that was just ripe for the picking. Truth be told, I knew Lorraine had been struggling for months with the bills because I had missed a paycheck or two. She always promised me she’d catch me up but so far, I’ve not seen a cent of it.
I’ve thought… no dreamed, of finding another job, and I even have feelers out. But this economy is tough, and there’s a glut of fresh-faced, new attorneys out there all battling for the same measly job on the bottom of the totem pole. Unless you graduated first in your class, you were on a one-way ticket to probably nowhere. And sadly, I’d graduated at the top of the bottom third in my class.
Lorraine assured me I had a job at Connover and Crown, basically due to a whole lot of begging she did on my behalf, and that she and I would embark on a new and glorious adventure together.
I had to bite down hard on my tongue not to laugh at that. You see, I may not have been a bright, shining star in my law school class, but I wasn’t stupid either. I’m going to Connover and Crown not because Lorraine had to beg on my behalf but rather because I have a case. No, not just a case… an immensely fucking great case. A case that is worth millions, along with a client that thinks the sun rises and sets upon me. Lorraine can’t kick me to the curb because the case will go with me, and frankly… I’m betting that one case is why I’m employed at Connover and Crown.
I’m thankful to have a job, and I’ll have to see how these circumstances pan out. But for now, I am extremely late thanks to hitting my snooze button five times in a row this morning. After my meeting with Lorraine, I came back to the apartment and crawled into bed, sleeping the rest of the day and night away. I barely had time this morning to wrap my wet hair in a severe bun and Google the directions to my new place of employment.
As soon as the elevator opens on the twenty-first floor, I practically run into the lobby, causing my heels to skid to an ungraceful stop in front of the receptionist. The platinum-blonde ice princess behind the mahogany desk gives me a snotty once over, and says, “Your shirt is buttoned up wrong.”
Looking down, I say, “Oh shit,” and hastily refasten my blouse, thankful that no one else is in the lobby.
When I’m presentable, she says, “You must be McKayla Dawson. The meeting is already underway. Mr. Connover is not going to be happy you’re late. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to that stuff.”
As if to accentuate her message, she snaps her chewing gum in her mouth and flattens her lips in a disdainful grimace.
I don’t have time for this shit, I’m already irritated I’m late, and it’s completely my fault. So, of course, I take it out on her. “Look, Blondie. I’m not one to take shit from anyone, especially not a rude, gum-smacking receptionist. Have a care you don’t cross me.”
Blondie’s eyes go wide and moisten, a fresh sheen of tears pooling.
Oh, fuck. I made her cry, and now I feel like crap. This day could not get any worse.
“Look… I’m sorry,” I tell her sincerely, because I have never been able to carry off rude and mean before. “I’m having a bad morning, and I took it out on you. I’m really, really sorry.”
I expect her to dash the tears away and sneer at my regretfulness, but instead, she gives me a small smile. “No, I’m sorry. I was rude and well… I don’t even have an excuse. You called me on it. Good for you.”
Cocking my head at her in curiosity, I stick out my hand. “What’s your name? You already know I’m McKayla, but my friends call me Mac.”
She shakes my hand and says, “I’m Bea. Now, hurry down that hall there and take the third door on the right. Oh, and tell Mr. Connover that the train was running late, and you’ll be just fine.”