Chapter 6
“Fuck!” I whisper-shouted as a courier ran past me in the hallway, knocking me out of his way and spilling my fresh cup of scalding coffee all over my bright white blouse.
A few of the others in the bullpen looked up to see what the commotion was. Once they saw it was just a clumsy girl who couldn’t figure out how to get out of the way of a bike messenger on a deadline, they went back to their work.
I dropped the heavy law books I had been holding in my other arm off at my desk and tried to figure out what to do. I couldn’t believe I had ruined this shirt already. It was brand new, and an amazing find, a bright white, no-mystery-stain button-down I had found at a thrift store with the Saks tag still on it tucked in the back. Some careless sales associate had missed it and gave it a two-dollar price, and it was just my size.
So, what did I do with this once-in-a-lifetime score? I dumped a cup of Starbuck’s over-priced dark roast, one of the few extravagances I allowed myself, all over it.
Fuck my life.
“Looking good, Ms. Carmichael.” Detective Patrick D. winked at me as he sauntered by my desk.
I looked down to see the stain had not only ruined my top, but the dampness of the coffee had made it transparent.
That morning, I woke up feeling terrible. The embarrassment from the night before still stung. Every fiber of my being told me to stay in bed, but staying in bed wouldn’t pay the bills, and my bed was damn cold anyway. So I got up and went to work. After being told no and dismissed by Mrs. Lakeson, I wanted to run away with my tail tucked between my legs.
Did I?
No.
Running away and missing a day of work was a privilege I could not afford, so I didn’t. But I really wished I had.
“Oh, dear, that looks like it hurts,” Mr. Astrid’s secretary, Cynthia, said, coming up behind me and making me jump again.
“It doesn’t feel good,” I said, and she gave me a sympathetic look.
“I am going to head out for a bit. Would you like me to grab you another cup of coffee, deary?”
Cynthia was the sweetest woman on the planet and looked like she had a Werther’s candy in her pocket at all times. The other paralegals warned me about her. She was nice until you messed something up for Mr. Astrid. Then she was a viper.
She may have looked like a sweet grandmother who should’ve been home knitting socks for her grandbabies, but she was ruthless when protecting Mr. Astrid and keeping his schedule set.
“Yes, please. When is Mr. Astrid expected in?” I asked, deflating a bit.
“Not for some time.” She patted me on the shoulder. “He had a breakfast meeting,” she said as she gathered her giant purse and headed out at a deliberately slow pace.
I took a moment to breathe.
Mr. Astrid wasn’t here yet.
I had time. I could clean myself up. I kept an extra shirt here in the office for this exact reason. It wasn’t my favorite and didn’t fit like this one, but it was clean.
I grabbed it from its hiding place, under the desk hung up against the wall of my cubicle. I kept it in a plastic dry-cleaning bag that I had swiped when a lawyer confused me for his secretary or his mother. He got his coat back, and I got a clean place to keep my top.
With Mr. Astrid not in for a while, I could take my time, get cleaned up and settled in, maybe drink my next cup of coffee instead of wearing it, and start my day.
It wouldn’t be all bad. Unlike my shirt, the day was salvageable.
A shrill laugh came from the other side of the bullpen, and I watched Ally, my arch-rival, head my way with the mayor.
Because, of course, she was.
She and I went to the same high school, constantly competing for the top spot, which she won. Not because her grades were better, but because she got extra credit when her daddy paid for a class trip to D.C. that she arranged.
She and I also went to the same college and took the same classes, but that was where the similarities ended. I served her lunch as part of my college work-study, and needed to work for a few years before continuing on, whereas she could afford to jump straight into law school and was currently interning at the mayor’s office.
While I was just a paralegal doing grunt work for the actual important people.
I couldn’t face her, not this morning, not like this.
Unfortunately, she was between the restrooms and me.
Cynthia was gone, Mr. Astrid wasn’t here, and Ally was getting closer. It only took me a second to calculate the pros and cons before I slipped into Mr. Astrid’s empty office and into his bathroom, holding my clean top over my front to cover the stained blouse.
Mr. Astrid’s office bath was even more ridiculous in the daylight—all gleaming, highly polished marble with gilded frames and hardware. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve said this level of tacky opulence was right out of some reality show. But it wasn’t my place to comment, so I didn’t. I was just going to hurry and change again, then find somewhere a little less dangerous to hide until Ally and the mayor were gone.
The moment I closed the door, I had my shirt off and was looking for a paper towel I could wet and use to clean the sticky residue from my chest. There was nothing on top of the counter, so I looked in the cabinet under the sink.
At the exact moment the door was pulled open.