December 22, 2014
10:45am
New York Supreme Civil Court
60 Centre St, New York, NY
“I’m in court,” I hiss the words while gazing back at my reflection. My complexion is a drained, ghost white color. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“It’s been a month, Maggie. I need you to come get your stuff, and you’ve been avoiding my phone calls. I mean, I get it, but we need to be adults about this.”
Adults? Is he kidding me? I press my iPhone closer to my ear and harshly rub my face with my free hand. “This is why you’re calling me?”
“I didn’t know you were in court,” he sighs. “How about I call you later?”
I’m silent.
“Or maybe you can stop by after work and get the boxes. I think that would be the easiest solution to all of this, don’t you?”
“Why?” I let out a disgusted chuckle. “Is it more convenient for you? Is she working tonight, out with her girlfriends or something?”
“Come on, Maggie. Are we going to do this right now?”
“Hey, you’re the one who called. But I guess I’m used to you turning everything around on me.”
“Look,” he snaps. “I don’t care if you come tonight or not, but come January I fully intend on getting a place of my own. If the rest of your stuff isn’t out of here by New Year’s, I’m putting it in the trash.”
“Fine, Hunter.”
“I need the ring back too."
He hangs up on me.
I raise my phone in the air, ready to throw it at the mirror, but then decide against it in case my boss needs to get in touch with me. I grit my teeth instead, and shove the thing back in my purse. Then I run the faucet, my hands shaking as I scoop up the cold water and splash it on my face. I splash more and more until I feel like I can walk out there, composed, and face my client.
I don't get more than two steps before I have to turn and throw up in the toilet, sobbing as I flush my anxieties away.
That bastard.
My phone dings, letting me know I have a new text message. I hesitate. I’m nearly back together again, and I can’t take another message from him, explaining just why it is that he wants to love someone else instead of me. I pull my phone out after a moment. I can never be too careful, because if its my boss and I don’t answer, I’ll be in for it when I return to the office.
Timberlake: Did they come back yet?
I sigh with relief. At least it’s him. At least I can try and forget about Hunter for a little while.
No, we’re still waiting.
Timberlake: Hunter called looking for you before. I told Shelby to tell him not to call your cell. He didn’t, did he?
I run a hand through my hair. I don’t want to answer him, because when I do, he’s just going to ask me more questions, and I can’t break down again. I have to get back to work.
At the same time though, I can’t lie to him. I’ve never been able to.
He called, but can we talk about it later? I have to get back out to the client before the jury returns.
Timberlake: Sure. You’re okay though, right?
I’m not. It’s the only thing I won’t admit right now. It's a question that doesn't have to be asked, because he knows I've been a wreck for months. I guess he's just very worried. Hunters call set off alarms inside of him, and I'm sure he's been sitting at his desk since since then, staring at his phone, waiting for me to tell him if the bastard actually got in touch with me.
I’ll survive the rest of the day.
Timberlake: Happy hour. Tonight. My treat?
Sure.
Timberlake: TTYL Good luck with the jury :0)
Sometimes, I don’t know what I’d do without him. I put my phone away, and give myself one more glance in the mirror before I head back to my client.
When I meet him in the hallway though, his mood is anything but pleasant.
“I don’t know if I’m confident in the closing remarks you’ve made today, Miss Dawson.”
“The jury was very attentive,” I say, trying to hide the nervousness in my voice. “I'm confident that we proved our case, sir.”
“Because, as you know, we have the utmost confidence in Harrison and Fink. I would hate to have to find another firm to conduct business with.”
“Yes, Mr. Garbin. I understand, but I have no doubt that when they come back, we’ll walk away clean.” I smile for him.
I’m sweating. I never sweat. Usually I know if I’ve won a case, and I haven’t lost since I was an assistant attorney at McMoorland and Klein, and that was a criminal defense case. That was years ago too, when I was clueless and fresh out of law school.
No.
No I won’t lose. I can’t lose. This is a multimillion dollar insurance case that I’ve worked my ass off on. All my ducks are in a row, oh yes. No room for failure here.
That’s what Barry always tells me during staff meetings. “There’s no room for losers at this firm, Miss Dawson.”
Justin always exchanges glances with me and eventually looks up at the ceiling.
He’s never lost a case either, but he’s a legacy. His father’s father’s father was a lawyer. It’s in his blood.
I’ll make partner before Justin Timberlake or die trying. He knows it’s my goal too, but it doesn’t phase him. He’s not about the partnership. I tell him all the time that he’s out of his mind, and he just tells me that he has his reasons. He doesn't like to get into those reasons with me. Despite how close we've become, there's still this part of him that's so private.
But I can’t think about that right now.
The Bailiff sticks his head out of the courtroom. “They’re back.”
I draw in a long breath and stand up, straightening out my skirt before leading my client back into the large courtroom. I see the attorney for the other side sitting at his desk, smiling up at me, as if he knows how fucking scared I am right now.
No, I’m not confident in my closing remarks either. I got jittery back there in front of the panel. Normally I’m calm cool and collected, have them eating out of the palm of my hand, but not today. Lately I’ve been distracted, with good reason, but still, there’s no room for that at Harrison and Fink. I steer around what’s been going on at home, because I know my bosses don’t give two rat craps that my fiancé is currently living with some other woman in the Brooklyn apartment we saved for and leased together, or that I’ve moved into a barely affordable studio with shitty insulation and a roach problem.
Justin says I should have thrown him out, but I just wanted to get away from the situation, and leaving was the easiest thing I could have done, in the end.
“All rise.”
We honor the bailiffs orders and the judge enters the courtroom, taking a seat on his leather throne before looking out at the courtroom. I’ve worked with this particular judge several times. He’s always respected me and the practice I work for, but today the look I’m getting from him is telling me I’m losing my touch.
I am. I’ve been going down hill for the better part of six months.
“It’s considerably shitty,” Justin said to me during happy hour the other night. “But Mags, you can’t let it stop you now. You’ve worked too hard. Fuck, everybody knows you live at the firm. ”
He was right. He usually is.
I can’t help it. I’ve always been with Hunter, I never considered anybody else because I was so caught up in him. We met in law school, and when we graduated, he moved here with me. We were together eight years, and I never pictured life without him until now. When I wake up in the morning, I feel a little more lost than the previous day. My mind swims with a million memories of us. I can’t shake it. I can’t stop loving him, and that just makes me certifiably fucking insane. Hunter dropped me like a bad habit, and there’s no reason why I should be clinging to the memory of our relationship like I have been. It’s a miracle I’m able to sit in this court room right now, let alone address a panel of jurors. I’m constantly lightheaded, I only sleep a couple of hours a night. I feel weak, and I don’t eat enough. I drink too much. I alienate myself from my family, and people in general.
Well, besides Justin.
“Be seated.”
I plunk down into the chair. My client narrows his eyes at me and frowns as if he’s sorry I was ever appointed to represent Mulligan Insurance. I quickly look away from him and pour myself a glass of water, chugging it down in a completely un-lady like manner.
“Has the jury reached a decision?”
“We have.”
I’ve lost. I know it even before the juror begins to read the decision out loud. It’s the look they get in their eyes and the expression that falls on their face that tells you if you’ve failed. It’s the same one, every single time.
“We, the jury, find for the plaintiff in the amount of seventy million dollars.”
I feel the clients gaze digging into my skull, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. I know it’s my fault. Nobody has to say anything. I’m done for.
Finished.
*****************
December 23, 2014
8:25 am
Harrison & Fink, Attorneys at Law
598 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY
You blew it Mags
With a whap, my briefcase hits the desk and I collapse down into the chair. I won’t cry. No, I can’t, not at the office. I wish I could though.
Because I fucking blew it.
This case was supposed to seal my fate. They were counting on me, Barry and Lawrence. They told me if I ever wanted to become partner, this was the case that would make me worthy of the title in their eyes.
I thought I had it all together, but I really didn’t. Once I realized what Hunter was doing all those nights he said he was working late, I started to slip more and more until I'd dug myself into a hole so deep there was no coming back. I was in denial. I wish I could have been smarter.
I blew Justin off for happy hour last night, gave him some lame excuse that I was tired. I knew he didn’t believe it, but he didn’t push me. He talked to me about the case over the phone for awhile instead. He told me it was a risk, even taking it on. Both of us knew from the beginning I guess, that Barry or Lawrence should have handled this one. Justin was actually offered it first, but turned it down. He told me that he knew better, that his father had taught him better than that. The thing is, I don't have a legacy of family members to ask for advice. I've only had myself and my gut instinct ever since I can remember. That instinct was telling me the partnership would be mine if I won. So, I took the case, while Justin wouldn’t have put his promotion in jeopardy for the world. I figured taking a risk would make me look better, but all that’s done is probably lost me my career. Hell, I’m about to lose everything, and for what?
I sat alone in my apartment last night with those same thoughts, a bottle of wine at my side and a big ass glass, attempting to drink my sorrows away. It didn’t help. The only thing I woke up with this morning was a killer hangover and no hope for the future.
Fuck.
I want to disappear.
I groan into my hands and lean forward, putting my head down on the desk. It’s pounding. I start to feel sick again. I spent a good part of this morning with my arms wrapped around my toilet bowl, but I can’t do that here.
Life as I know it, is over. Completely over.
“Miss Dawson?”
No.
“Miss Dawson?” Our assistant, Shelby, whispers it even softer this time.
“Hm.”
“Mr. Harrison and Mr. Fink want you in their office right away.”
I don’t respond, and after a few moments, I hear her shuffle away. Yes, I know they want to see me. They’re going to fire me. I’m a wreck. How the hell can I go in there, and face them like this? I’ll break down, show my weakness, and they’ll tell me I’ve lost my mind, that I’ll never work another case in my lifetime.
I sit up and spot the picture on my desk from the corner of my eye. Hunter and I, last Christmas in front of the Rockefeller Center tree. We looked good then, smiling, carefree. I forgot to toss it, or maybe…I've stupidly been holding on to the memory. It’s like the things that are still at the apartment. I’ve left them there, foolishly hoping that he would decide to come around, but it’s been a month since I moved out and he’s not coming back to me. He fell in love with someone else, and it's time to accept that. I flip the picture face down. Christmas is only a few days away. I should be happy right now. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and make a decent living. I just…all I do is work, I guess. Maybe that’s why Hunter did what he did. Maybe I stopped making time for us a while ago and he couldn’t take it anymore.
It’s my fault…I mean, it has to be. It’s been easier though, not having anyone to answer to. Now I can work weekends and holidays without repercussions. I came in on Thanksgiving and not a soul seemed to care. Justin tried to talk me out of it the day before, but when I wouldn't give in, he simply wished me luck and went home to celebrate with his family There are no more fights now, no more rushing around to please Hunter. The only thing on my agenda after work is usually happy hour drink specials with Justin, if he has the time to spare.
It’s fine this way. If I get to keep my job, I can come in Christmas morning and start putting things together for the new year.
It will work out.
It has to work out.
I walk out of my office, head held high as I head toward the other side of the firm. Justin’s office is on the way, and he’s standing outside his door, coffee in hand, giving me a pitiful look before standing in my path so I can’t get by him.
“I have a meeting with Barry and Lawrence,” I sigh.
“You should skip it.”
“Do you think I want to go?” I chuckle. “I lost seventy million dollars for one of their best clients yesterday. I’m finished. I don’t feel like being reminded of that again, but I don’t have a choice.”
“You’ve been distracted. Everyone is allowed a slip now and then.”
I narrow my eyes at him and he looks away from me and down at the floor. As one of the best lawyers in the business, he knows what he just said was a load of crap. There’s no room in any firm for this big of a loss. He’s just trying to be my friend, and I'm thankful for him. If nothing else, he’s helping me to maintain what’s left of my sanity.
He’s my only friend, and I’m going to miss him when I’m gone.
“I have to go,” I tell him.
He sighs, but doesn’t hesitate to give me a quick hug. “You’ll be…you’ll be fine. They have to give you one more chance. Probation or something, you know? I even told them yesterday…they should think about what the firm would be losing before they finalize anything.”
I pull away and feel the tears pushing from behind my eyes but don't allow them to escape. After a moment, I'm finally able to look him in the eye. “You talked to them?”
He smiles. “Of course. I gotta defend you. You’re the best chick that’s come out of Harvard Law in a long time.”
I feel myself smile just slightly. He’s sweet, probably the only person that could make me feel a little better today. Regardless, I can’t cling to the hope that the partners have taken what he said seriously. They’re businessmen, and they don’t play around. “It was really awesome of you to do that, Justin, but you shouldn’t have. You know how Barry and Lawrence are. When something goes wrong, they’re out for blood, and I’ve accepted the inevitable. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“Hunter’s a mother fucker,” he mutters. “He messed you up. No one should blame you for losing that case.”
I shrug. “I’ll see you after.”
He just nods, and sips his coffee as he walks back inside his office. I hear him on the phone within seconds and know he’s gone back to work. He deserves to make partner. He really does. I may work a million hours and come in on ungodly days to do extra work, but Justin is so much smarter at this game than I’ll ever be. He knows the tricks of this business better than anyone I went to law school with, and he can take on the most difficult cases that come into the firm. He wins them all, he’s the golden boy, but yet…somehow, we’ve become friends instead of two lawyers constantly at war with one another.
I was a fool to think I could ever be better than him, and the thing is…I can’t even be jealous of him, because he’s such a nice guy. Most lawyers are sharks, do what they can to stab you in the back and make themselves look better than everyone else at the firm. Justin is so different. He went to bat for me and told the bosses they should give me a chance to prove myself. I was brand new to the firm then, and getting grunt work cases. I still don’t get why he did it, or why he still feels compelled to defend me in a situation like this.
I probably never will.
I feel my stomach flip flopping as I turn down the hallway that leads to Barry and Lawrence’s office. Their secretary, Vivian, greets me with a tight smile when I reach her desk, and she instructs me to sit and wait until they’re ready for me.
I already know how angry they are. They only make you wait when they’re pissed. That way, you’ll be that much more unhinged when it’s finally time to face them.
Shit.
Should I just leave now? Save myself the trouble?
“Maggie.”
Barry Fink stands in the doorway. Handsome for a man in his mid fifties, the kind smile he usually displays to me every week is non existent, and I know how this is going to go. Still, I get up from the chair and walk towards him with my head held high. The last thing I want to do, is become hysterical before they’ve even talked to me.
“Good morning, Barry.”
He nods, and allows me to walk past him into the office. I see Lawrence sitting behind his large Mahogany desk. He barely acknowledges me.
Then the door closes, and I’m trapped in here with them.
“Have a seat, Maggie,” Lawrence finally says.
I do it automatically, and then Barry goes to stand beside Lawrence. They both stare me down like I’ve murdered someone. I wish so badly that Justin could be here with me right now. At least they like him. It might lighten the mood.
“Maggie, I don’t think we need to tell you why you’re in here,” Barry says gruffly. “Yesterday was a travesty for this firm. The first huge blow we’ve ever been dealt. When we talked to you about taking the case, you understood what a big undertaking it was going to be. We both advised you that there was no room for distractions.”
I nod. “I…”
“Miss Dawson you have disgraced this firm,” Lawrence continues. “You’ve nearly made us the laughing stock of the New York legal world. This morning alone, I’ve had two other major clients we represent, threaten to leave.”
“But they didn’t leave?”
They just stare at me.
Wrong question, idiot.
“I don’t think that matters,” Barry says. “Do you think it matters, Maggie?”
“No.” I look down at my lap.
Barry sighs. “Mr. Garbin told us you’ve seemed very out of touch the last couple of months. When we asked him why he didn’t reach out to Lawrence or myself, he informed us that you constantly reassured him you were on top of the case. He trusted our firm that much, not to ask questions.”
“You’ve compromised the integrity of this law firm,” Lawrence spits out. “Frankly, it’s embarrassing. I thought you had more common sense than this, Maggie.”
“I’ll pack my things.” I get up and give them a tight smile. “Thank you both for everything. I appreciate the experience I’ve gotten here.”
“Nobody said you were fired, Maggie,” Barry says, and I see a slight smirk appear on his lips. “We were going to fire you, but…”
“We’ve reconsidered,” Lawrence says, still glaring at me. “For the time being.”
“Reconsidered?” I sink back down into the chair before I collapse.
Are these two for real? They’re letting me keep my job?
“Mr. Timberlake seems to think we would be making a huge mistake, letting you go, and he has put his job on the line to ensure you won’t lose yours,” Lawrence explains. “We trust him, and so, we’ve decided to extend you a probationary period. We’ll give you a few small civil cases, and let you assist Justin with his case work, until we feel you are ready to handle your own caseload again.”
“I…well, thank you.” I can barely get the words out, I’m so fucking shocked. But Justin? His job is on the line? “Um, when you say Justin’s job is on the line…”
“It means, Miss Dawson, that if you lose the firm more money, you’ll both be out of a job. That was the deal he made with us,” Barry explains.
“Tread lightly, Miss Dawson,” Lawrence says cooly. “Get back to work.”
I swallow hard. “Yes…yes sir.”
I walk out of the office as fast as I can, and shut the door behind me. I take advantage of the solitude of the hallway and lean back against the wall, letting out the breath that I’ve been holding. Oh God, Justin.
What the hell has he done?
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