by Eva Luxe
“I’m sorry, Shirley,” I tell my secretary. “I’m sure there are some pleasant things about Florida. The beaches. The sun. The other…”
Ruby clears her throat. She turns around again and shoots me a look as if I’m being bad.
I was going to say “other old people” but that’s obviously offensive. Sometimes I don’t think enough before I fucking open my mouth, especially when I’m in the heat of the moment. Ruby seems to know this about me even though I barely know anything about her.
Perhaps I’ll have to change that.
“…retirees,” I finish. “But I thought I had another five years left of having you as my secretary. You’re only…”
I trail off again, without Ruby even having to clear her throat this time. I was going to guess sixty-five, but for all I know Shirley could be eighty. And her age is beside the point. All that matters is that I need my coffee and my typed up and proofread letters and I don’t know who else is going to bring them to me every day.
“…celebrating twenty years of working here,” I quickly finish.
“Twenty years is a long time,” Shirley says, as if to say that I should have known she could leave any day now. “And I was trying to decide how to tell you. It was a very difficult thing to do.”
“And you decided you just had to tell me now, today of all days? When I just…”
Took a pounding in court, I want to say, but don’t. I never admit defeat in front of my subordinates. It only makes me look weak. And I’m certainly not going to admit it in front of Ruby.
“I know, I know, Mr. Sanchez,” Shirley says, shaking her head.
She looks down at the floor instead of up at me.
“I didn’t want to have to do it at all and especially not today of all days,” she finally continues. “But it’s the last day I can put in my two-week notice before…”
“Before what?” I ask her, since now it’s her turn to trail off.
“Before we have to leave for Florida,” she tells me. “Winston bought a condo and we have to be down there to do a walk-through inspection in two weeks.”
“Who’s Winston?” I ask her, picturing one of those wiener dogs.
“He’s my husband,” she says, looking very offended.
Ruby shoots me another shocked look.
Oh yeah. Winston is her husband. That makes sense. I know I should know that after all these years. Not to mention from the context of our conversation. But I’m a little distracted due to constantly looking at Ruby’s ass.
And Shirley barely ever talks about her husband or anyone at all really. She just does her work. Makes my life easier. And that’s why I’m going to miss her.
“Who’s going to bring me my coffee?” I ask Shirley. “And my legal letters and pleadings and briefs?”
“Mr. Sanchez, I’m sure you can find someone else to do those things,” Shirley says, smiling shyly, obviously pleased with the fact that I need her. “Mr. Marks said that Madilyn can start interviewing suitable replacements right away.”
“Asher knows about this?” I ask her.
I don’t know what I feel more betrayed about— the fact that she informed Asher before she told me or the fact that Asher didn’t tell me as soon as he knew.
“I told HR first,” she says, taking a step back as if she fears she did something wrong. “And they told me to let the managing partner know right away so that he can begin making arrangements.”
I do my best not to grind my teeth. The term “managing partner” is enough to drive me nuts. Fucking Asher thinking he’s in charge of everything. Fucking HR apparently agrees with him.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sanchez…” Shirley says, wringing her hands together as if she’s distraught.
“Shirley, it’s fine,” I tell her, letting out a sigh.
She looks up at me as if she’s trying to figure out if I really mean it.
“I’m grateful for all your help over these past two decades and if you want to leave me for the beaches and sunny skies of Florida, by all means, you deserve to be happy.”
She smiles at me, and even Ruby can’t help but turn around and grin at me.
I can be charming when I fucking want to be charming. And it’s not Shirley’s fault that everyone views this firm as only Asher's when it’s also mine.
“I just don’t know where I’m going to find another secretary as good as you,” I tell her, and I can’t help but glance over one more time at Ruby.
“Well, Boss, they’re all done,” she says, gesturing to the files neatly arranged on my credenza.
I have no idea what I’m going to do with those fucking things. Normally I would give them to my secretary but she just quit on me and I doubt she’s in the mood to move a bunch of files I just asked Ruby to put there.
“Thank you, Ruby,” I tell her, distracted by the way she calls me “Boss.”
I like it.
I like it a little bit too fucking much.
“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Shirley says.
As Ruby walks out of my office I can’t help but think that maybe I already have.
Chapter 5 – Ruby
THE NEXT DAY
When I sit down at the shared floater computer to find out my assignments for the day, a new email notification pops up on the screen. The subject is intra-firm memorandum so I click on it.
Dear Firm,
We are saddened to have to say goodbye to Cameron Sanchez’ assistant Shirley but we wish her all the best in retirement in Florida.
I pause here and giggle to myself, thinking of Cameron’s comments yesterday. Then I keep reading.
We are going to be hiring a new assistant for Cameron and we would like to do it quickly so that Shirley can train her replacement before she leaves. This is an official call to all law firm staff who are interested in applying for the position and advancing from within. We will also be interviewing applicants from outside the firm but we wanted to give first opportunity to members of our firm. Madilyn St. Clair is forming a hiring committee for this task and they will begin interviewing interested candidates tomorrow at 9:00 am in Conference Room B. The sooner we can find the right person for Mr. Sanchez, the better.
Sincerely yours,
The Law Firm of Marks, Sanchez and Reed.
I stare at the phrase that talks about finding “the right person for Mr. Sanchez.”
I shake my head and tell myself to forget about it. I have no experience as a legal assistant other than the few weeks I’ve been working here doing menial tasks as a floater. There’s no reason they’d hire me.
And it’s not like me to even want to apply. I’m no ambitious go-getter. I’m just here to pay my bills and line up my new future. I can’t be calling attention to myself, either. I need to just keep my head down and stay under the radar.
I switch to the firm calendar and check my tasks for the day.
Oh great.
I’ve been assigned to babysit Mr. Mack again. He’s a 93-year-old partner who has lost most of his memory and is half senile. But he’s been here since the firm started and he insists on coming to the office every day. He has nothing better to do.
He can’t drive or do anything else for himself. That means I have to go pick him up, bring him back to the office, bring him a newspaper and his Earl Grey tea and check in on him as he sits there half reading his newspaper all day.
He brings his little Chihuahua named Ted. And he falls asleep more often than Katie does.
Then I take him home. The only good part about the days when I’m assigned to Mr. Mack is that I get to go home early because he likes to be driven home at three thirty so he can watch Judge Judy at four o’clock. Apparently, he’s been a diehard Judge Judy fan for longer than he’s been a partner here at the firm.
I carry out my tasks for the day, quite sure this is one of the most boring days ever. At one point Mr. Mack calls me into his office, yelling, “Ruby! Ruby!” hysterically.
“Yes?” I ask, afraid he might be dying.
&
nbsp; This is it, I think. Of course, he’s going to kick the bucket on my watch. I hope they don’t fire me for not somehow managing to keep him alive.
But instead he just points at a picture in the newspaper.
“Do you know this person?” he asks me.
His bony finger is crooked and accusatory.
“No.”
I shake my head.
Ted barks at me as if he doesn’t trust my answer. But I’ve never seen the guy before.
“This was the first President of the University of New Mexico School of Law and he just passed away,” Mr. Mack says.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry?” he says, cupping a hand to his hear. “I didn’t quite catch what you said.”
“I said I’m sorry,” I practically yell.
“Don’t be,” he says. “He was a dick.”
I do my best to suppress my laughter, not that I think Mr. Mack would be able to hear it. The word around the firm is that Mr. Mack is quite the dick himself.
“Do you know that I was in the first graduating class at UNM Law School?” he asks me.
“No,” I tell him. “I didn’t know that.”
“There was only one woman in my class,” he tells me, looking me up and down, as if to let me know he doesn’t approve of my kind. “And she wasn’t smart enough to graduate with the rest of the class. So, no women graduated with me.”
“I see,” I tell him, not sure how to respond to that. During comments like this I’ve begun to see why people say he’s a dick. “Did you need anything else, Mr. Mack?”
He shrugs.
“What time is it?”
“It’s nearly noon,” I tell him.
“Not time for Judge Judy then, I guess,” he says, looking out the window as if he wishes he could go home. Perhaps he thinks he’s a prisoner in the law firm he insists on coming to every day.
“Not yet,” I tell him.
“That is one lady who would probably have been smart enough to have graduated with my class,” he tells me. “She always gets everything right. She’s tough on these youngsters who show up in front of her and try to pee on her leg and tell her it’s raining.”
I laugh and he smiles, looking pleased at himself.
“Would you like me to bring your lunch?” I ask him.
While most of the firm eats their lunch in a large cafeteria style conference room, with a small room off the back that has a refrigerator and microwave, Mr. Mack prefers to eat his food— which resembles baby food such as mashed bananas or applesauce— by himself in his office. Often, he doesn’t want to eat anything at all.
“Not yet,” he tells me. “But I’ll holler when I want it.”
“Okay, Mr. Mack.”
I head to the file room, if only for the excuse of passing Cameron’s office. But he’s not in there. Damn it. This is definitely the most boring day ever.
I can’t help but think about how nice it would be if Cameron was in there and we could flirt with each other like we did yesterday. I don’t know if it counted as flirting but I sure did. And all I want is for him to make me laugh like he did yesterday. To be near him. To see him.
Cameron Sanchez is driving me so crazy. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to work here without going mad with desire. I’m going to need a cold shower every day. But first I’m going to have some hot fantasies.
Chapter 6 – Ruby
I’m relieved to be in the filing room by myself, to calm my mind that’s racing with thoughts of Cameron. But Katie’s also here, of course.
“Hey Ruby, what’s up?” she asks, looking a little more alert today. She’s sitting in the same spot she had been in yesterday, but reading a Kurt Vonnegut book this time.
“Nothing. Just babysitting Mr. Mack.”
“Worst job ever,” Katie says.
“Tell me about it.”
I look at her as she turns a page.
“Do you ever leave this room?”
She laughs.
“Not when I can help it.”
Now I laugh with her.
“The partner I work for is in court all week,” she says. “I keep asking him if he needs any help but he brought his paralegal and he just keeps telling me to man the fort. I figure this is part of the fort. And a part I can smoke this in.”
She holds up the vape pen.
“Doesn’t anyone ever, like… find out and get mad?” I ask her.
She shrugs.
“The only people who ever come in here are secretaries or floaters or runners.”
“Lowly assistants like me,” I laugh.
“Yeah, what are they going to do? Rat me out? Usually I just offer them a hit and they either take it or get scared of this dirty hippy and run off.”
“That’s funny.”
“So, what about you?” she asks me. “What’s your story?”
I look at her, suspicious. Does she know?
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why are you babysitting Mr. Mack? You sound like a smart chick. You should at least be a secretary like me. Then when you hide out here in the file room, you’ll be getting paid a bit more for it.”
I laugh again. She’s funny, but she does have a point. I could probably do better than babysitting an elderly partner who doesn’t even know my name.
“Did you see that they’re doing interviews for Cameron Sanchez’s secretary replacement?” I ask Katie.
“Ahhh. Antonio Banderas. Here’s your chance to snag him.”
I laugh.
“Very funny.”
“Seriously,” she says. “You should apply. Why not? He’s hot and the work would be a bit more challenging than mashing up bananas for an old guy.”
“How do you know about the bananas?” I ask her.
“I used to be a floater.”
“Hmmm.”
I look at her. If this pothead could apply for and get an upgraded position and raise, then maybe I could do. But really, I just want to be closer to Cameron. The thought of seeing him every day makes my heart race. The thought of being physically near him makes my underwear start to feel damp.
“Seriously,” Katie says, snapping me out of my fantasy. “If you stay here long enough, they’re going to either want to promote you or fire you. Nobody wants to be a floater forever. They’ll get suspicious about your lack of ambition.”
I stare at her.
“Yeah, ask me how I know,” she says. “I wasn’t the most ambitious person. I was fine with just being a floater. No responsibility. No risk. But they asked me if I wanted to move up to being an assistant. They kind of heavily implied that it was required of me if I wanted to stay on, because Janice had a niece in high school who needed the job of floater at a law firm for her college application. So, I got assigned to a first-year associate who was more clueless than I was and it was hell. Then I had to actually work my ass off to prove myself and finally get transferred to work for Jim. It’s easy work because he knows what he’s doing and has a paralegal and rarely needs a lot of help. So, I advise you to short circuit my long and twisting path and just jump straight up to working for Cameron before they assign you to someone really awful.”
“If they let me,” I tell her.
“Well, sure. You’ll have to apply. Just impress them. But you don’t want to wait and have to say yes to being assigned to work for someone awful. Like that flighty partner named Janice. Or those associate attorneys who look like Barbies. Mandy and Candy and whoever. Or that dopey guy who follows them around.”
“That reminds me,” I tell Katie, now that she mentions the newest associates. “Yesterday you said something about Madilyn St. Clair and Asher Marks.”
“Did I?” I ask, and both of us laugh. “I was a bit baked yesterday.”
“I know.”
“I got a little too excited about my first day of freedom with Jim being gone for the week. Gotta cut down on the smoking at work.”
“You think?”
I ask sarcastically.
“But yeah,” she says. “Madilyn and Asher are a thing. A thing thing. Usually he has some weird sort of sub/dom relationship with whomever he picks to be his mentee. He trains them in everything. And I do mean everything.”
A shiver runs down my spine but it’s the good kind of shiver. I wish it was Cameron who chose someone to do that to, and I wish he would do it to me.
“After a little while, he moves onto the next. But this time, people are saying it’s true love and barfy things like that. He actually fell for his employee. Someone so much younger than him. And they’re in luuuuuuuurve.”
“Wow,” I say, pretending to think it’s kind of gross.
Usually I would think that. But now I think it’s kind of hot. Because I can’t help but think of Cameron. I don’t know what the hell has gotten into me.
“Yeah,” Katie says. “But it’s got a lot of people around here talking. Some people are jealous and can be backstabbing bitches. So, we’ll see how things play out.”
She shrugs.
“Well thanks for filling me in,” I tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you talk so much.”
“Girl, I have ADHD and social anxiety. I either talk a mile a minute or not at all. That’s why I need this stuff. That reminds me.”
She digs around in her beaded hemp purse that’s lying on the floor beside her until she finds her vape pen and takes it out.
“Want a hit?” she asks, holding it out to me.
“No thanks,” I tell her. “I have to get back to Mr. Mack. Hopefully he’s still alive.”
“Yeah but that means a long lunch hour of banana mashing for you,” she says.
“Ha.”
I leave the file room and go check on Mr. Mack again. But his head is down and he’s snoring. I head out to eat my own lunch but for the rest of the afternoon I can’t get over the conversation I just had with Katie.
What if Cameron were interested in the type of relationship that Asher Marks is into? What if he wanted to tie me up? Spank my ass?
I can barely contain myself all day long. At 3:20 I tell Mr. Mack it’s time to leave if he wants to make today’s showing of Judge Judy, which of course he does. He never requested his lunch so I didn’t have to mash his bananas.
