I know I don’t have a high-ranking position at the office yet, being both an inexperienced attorney and a new hire. One on probation, no less. I need to be content to earn my place here and work on cases mainly in a supportive role for now. That’s research, brief drafting, and due diligence for the most part.
If I’m going to be less average and more successful here, or anywhere for that matter, I need to do those things perfectly.
Keep my emotions in check. Stay prepared. Act the part.
As I walk into the conference room with straight shoulders, there are only a few people who have made it here before me. Mr. Grant gives a nod in my direction, a full greeting by his standards. A couple of other attorneys smile at me. No cringing in my direction or ignoring me altogether. I don’t know if it has anything to do with the fact that they all believe I’m dating the nicest and most popular guy in town, but it’s probably not a coincidence.
Pretending to date Warren to gain a little favor from my boss and everyone else around here might just be working. I could lie and say that fact surprised me, but after getting to know Warren more, I get it. Winning people over seems to be his special talent.
I quietly jot down a few notes while the rest of the employees trickle in over the next few minutes. By the time Mrs. Powell fires up the screen and pulls up her meeting agenda for all to see, Emma walks in and sits down in the seat next to me.
“You’ve got to try this, it’s todiefor,” she whispers with a wildly big smile. She pushes a smoothie toward me, and I gladly take it.
Offices should really come up with something other than coffee and donuts to serve in the mornings. They’re not awful and most people love them, but they’re not my favorite. I’m always thirsty and hungry after these things.
It’s weird as hell knowing that three different versions of Emma are working against each other when I’m interacting withher. Is she going to act like my brother’s girlfriend, my coworker, or my fake boyfriend’s ex? There’s no winning for me no matter which flavor she is.
So I stick with the safest option—indifferently pleasant and cordial.
I take a sip, noticing right away how overly sweet it is. I squint and purse my lips, but it’s not too bad so I take a few more drinks. Maybe the extra sugar rush will boost my energy a bit for the long day of work ahead.
“Thank you,” I whisper back. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Normally, I’d complain that it’s not very good, but that’s what the old me would have done. The new me is more likable and keeps her job for longer than a month.
“I don’t mind at all,” she beams.
A throat clearing turns our attention to the front of the room.
“This will be a brief meeting, as I have already emailed you all a detailed document of what you’ll each be working on specifically until further notice,” Mrs. Powell starts. Her cream pantsuit with a simple black top underneath is stunning against her black hair and she stands tall with an air of confidence that would strike fear in anyone who dares question her.
I’ve always admired her for that. As I watch her lead the meeting, I picture myself in her shoes, being able to do that myself one day.
“If you have any questions about a case, please feel free to communicate those to me either right now or at any time during the day as I will be in the office for the entirety of the week. Mr. Grant will be at trial until Thursday. Contact his assistant during that time.”
Under the table, I cross one ankle behind the other and fiddle with my pen. While a few employees raise their hands to ask questions, I sit quietly and listen.
When conversations wrap up, Mrs. Powell shuts her laptop and people begin to stand from their seats. I stand as well but stop short when I hear my name being called from the far end of the table.
“Savannah, a moment?” Mr. Grant says.
“Of course,” I reply. I gather my things in a rush but walk over to him steadily so as not to seem too eager.
“Great job on the timeline you submitted for the Ashwood case last week. I had a chance to look it over and it was very thorough.” He’s looking at a piece of paper while he talks to me but then looks up once he’s finished speaking.
“Thank you,” I say.
“We have a monster to tackle with that one. You’re well versed on the research so far, so I need you on the team with me if you’re up for it.”
The team he’s referring to are the senior attorneys and partners who are normally the only ones who work directly with the clients. For someone so new to the firm, I stay in the background. I’m okay with that, but what he’s proposing is a rare opportunity. If Henry feels I could help in a bigger capacity on such a significant case, I’m all in.
“That would be amazing, Mr. Grant,” I say with more conviction than I feel.
“Good. You can meet the Ashwoods at the client appreciation event coming up, then. Is Warren coming along with you?”
“Yes,” I say with a smile. “He’ll definitely be there.”
I haven’t felt this good about how my job is going in, well,ever. It’s a struggle not to bypass my desk and head straight for the storage closet for a private celebratory dance party.
