Page 3 of Pride & Precedents
"We won't know how big a problem that is until we get more details on the marital situation." I move back around my desk and take a seat, my cue that the conversation is over. Camila takes the hint and flips down the pages on her pad. On her way out, she stops suddenly.
"Wait a minute! What are the names of these VIPs?"
I don't bother looking up from my now open browser. "Mr. Bannister didn't want to risk getting into details while out at lunch, since the news of the divorce filing isn't yet public. Can you stop by his office and get the names from his paralegal before you get started? I'll be meeting my car in the next thirty minutes, but, as always, I'm reachable. I'll expect the dossiers in my inbox by 7:00am tomorrow morning." She nods.
"On it." With a slight sway of her hips, she turns on her sensible heels and heads out of my office, closing the door behind her.
Though capable, fashionable, she isnot. I've never seen her in heels higher than two inches, her skirt suits are clearly cheap,—it'd likely take ten to match the price of justoneof my suits—and she never bothers much with makeup or fussy hairstyles. Even with all that, she's not unattractive, but her wardrobe is the one area where I wouldn't mind some improvement.
Not that she's an extension of me, but a paralegal could be areflectionof me. What does it say to the opposing party, to potential clients, that my paralegal is so…dowdy? Especiallytaking into account how sharply I dress,—my body touches nothing but Brooks Brothers, Brioni, Brunello Cucinelli, and Zegna—the difference is striking. Her cheap clothes, lack of makeup, and general frumpiness don't violate our firm's dress code, however, and I'm not about to risk a discrimination lawsuit making unsolicited comments on a female employee's appearance.
My phone buzzes next to my keyboard.
Murray
Your car is out front, sir.
Murray's been my driver ever since I made the move out of the city. He's demonstrated outstanding professionalism since Day 1. He doesn't chatter needlessly during the drive, he knows when to raise the privacy screen without me even having to ask, and he's perpetually five minutes early.
I grab my suit jacket from the back of my chair and put it on, tuck my crucial papers into my briefcase and snap it shut, turn off my desk and office lights, and finally lock the door behind me. I trust Camila will have the requested documentation ready in time for my review tomorrow morning.
Chapter three
Camila
Goddamnit!I was almost home free! I haven't gotten out before 8:00pm in going on two weeks now. Add that to the subway ride home, and I'm lucky if I see my bed by 10:00pm most nights. Note to bosses everywhere:Work-life balance shouldn't just be for the partners and C-suite!
I allow myself a few more seconds of ineffectual grumbling before flipping to a fresh page in my trusty legal pad and making my way down to Mr. Bannister's office. Some paralegals take notes on their phones, but I worry it looks like I'm texting, so I stick to the tried and true methods. I pass a few more vacant offices before reaching Mr. Bannister's reception area. Poor Cici, his beleaguered paralegal, has got to have a cot hidden somewhere as late as she works. She looks up from her computer and nods in silent greeting.
"Hey Cici, girl. Mr. Park just sent me to get the names of the potential VIP petitioners. I need to put together full dossiers for both by tomorrow. Did Mr. Bannister, perhaps, leave them with you?"
Cici leans back in her chair before starting to search her desk.
"Let me see…" She pushes back ginger bangs that come loose from her chignon as she opens and closes a few drawers. That is exactly why I stick with a bun and barrettes. Long hours, law school, and doing my best not to completely neglect my family obligations leaves me no time for hairspray, curling irons, or fabrics that can't stand up to a mustard stain after another lunch at my desk. I barely have time to shower some days. My work outfits are basically a uniform; I've got three of the same suits in two different colors to cover the whole week. Cici sighs and shakes her head, her search obviously coming up empty.
"No dice, Camila. I'll let him know you're here, though."
I nod and take a seat in the waiting area. I rub the stiffness out of my ankles, roll my shoulders, and let my thoughts wander to my overbearing overlord.
Henry's been wound tighter than usual lately, and that's saying something for a man who's basically a cyborg. Apainfully sexyand incredibly successful cyborg, but still. My guess is either he's got one too many clients,—six straight years as the firm's top earner has got to start taking a toll on you atsomepoint—or he seriously needs to get laid. Considering he's either here working late with me, working from his car, or working from home, he's likely had as much sex as I have in the last few months: nada.All work and no play makes Camila a dangerously pent up girl.I sigh and push useless thoughts of sex (or lack thereof) to the back of my brain.
I normally don't have a problem staying late. What else can you expect when you're a paralegal for one of the partners at a firm that's been ranked in the top five of US News & World Reports' Best Law Firms ten years and counting? That's not just best firms inNYC; that's best firms in thecountry. I was justreallyhoping to knock out my last mid-term (ever!) so I could start focusing on studying for the bar and finally make the leapfrom overworked and underappreciated paralegal to full-fledged attorney.
Nothere, of course. Syracuse's JDinteractive program is impressive,—my little sister, Aurora, surprised me with a legit cake from Carlo's when I got in, and then my baby brother, Gabriel, took us out for way too many Harvey Wallbangers—but I doubt it'll get the attention of the higher ups at Bannister, Banks, Smith & Park. That's why I've kept the fact that I've been working towards my J.D. for nearly five years a secret from everyone at the firm. What I do outside of work is none of their business; I'm just glad I found a program I can do when I don't know whether I'll get home by 8:00pm or midnight. Once I pass the bar and have an entry-level gig lined up (maybe something in Entertainment Law), I'll be giving my one month's notice.
God,five years! This program has been an absolutebeast. I pride myself on being a competent woman with an abundance of grit,—my mom worked hard to give that to all her children, despite growing up in projects-adjacent housing in the Bronx—but there were times I thought evenIcouldn't handle everything. I'll probably sleep for a week when this is all over. Thoughts of my mom swirl in my head and I start absentmindedly tapping my pen.
Valentina Sanchez raised her children to be smart, strong, and proud of their Puerto Rican heritage, no matter how many zeros were in our bank account, or how many times a week we hadarroz con pollo. We didn't get private schools, expensive extracurriculars, or fancy summer vacation plans, but we did get a home life full of love and attention, and a mother who believed we could do whatever we wanted to do. She gave everything so we could be successful…until she fell asleep on the bus ride home from work and never woke up.
The doctors said it was a pulmonary embolism. Apparently, all those headacheswereworth a visit to the doctor. I'd been in myjunior year at CUNY, and suddenlyIhad to step into the role of single parent for two younger siblings. The grief was unbearable, and I lost my streak on the Dean's list in all the fallout. But I finished.
Instead of going to law school right after college,—that would hardly have been possible with the way my grades tanked anyway—I got my paralegal certification and landed a job with Bannister, Banks, Smith & Park to make ends meet and learn as much behind the scenes as I could. And though I'm nowhere near the mother my mom was, we kept the apartment, Gabriel finished high school and started at Fordham, Aurora finished college (she even got a scholarship to NYU for film school!), and life started to even out again. Five years to finish law school definitely wasn't the plan, but better late than never.
It was just Bannister, Banks, & Smith when I started with the firm. I like to call those my "pre-Park" days. My life pre-Park included happy hours with the other paralegals, coffee runs with the cute guy in Accounting, and actually getting my coursework done before the sun came up. Then Vanessa had to go and get married and my short-term coverage assignment in Divorce turned into a life sentence working for "Sub Zero".
There are things I like about the man, for sure.
He's generous with bonuses.
