Chapter 8 - Jasmine
JASMINE
Going back to work after hours was the pits.
I hated it, but it wasn’t like these last-minute, late-night meetings weren’t common. They were so common, in fact, that I got paid time and a half for it whenever it happened. Granted, it was usually only a couple of hours, but still.
Time and a half at what I was being paid was easily almost four hundred more bucks in my pocket.
And who could say no to that?
While driving back into work, I leaned forward and squinted to see. The older I got, the more the lights spidered at night. Like little gremlin tendrils, reaching out to pluck out my eyeballs in offense for not seeing them clearly enough.
At least Christmas lights were more beautiful than normal.
I sat at a stoplight and fussed with one of my contacts.
The last thing I wanted to do was put on my glasses.
I hated those damned things. They were Coke bottle lenses wrapped up in a massive frame where they still jutted out a few centimeters away from the glasses frame itself.
I swear, I could be legally fucking blind without those things.
At least my prescription wasn’t so bad that I needed those full-on plastic things like I heard my father say my mother used to wear.
I wondered if I got my bad eyesight from her.
Was bad eyesight genetic?
I felt like that was something an educated woman like myself should have known.
A car horn honking at me startled me out of my trance. I gripped my steering wheel with both hands, taking in deep breaths to wake myself out. I knew I shouldn’t have tried to wind down for sleep. These late-night meetings were happening more frequently.
Oh, that reminded me: I needed to make sure this meeting went on my schedule.
You know, just in case I didn’t get compensated for it.
I never had that problem before but one never knew with certain things.
And I liked to keep tabs on every single ounce of my time that was billable.
“Thanks for that, Dad,” I muttered as I eased my way into the parking garage.
The concrete haven was spooky at night. The only light afforded to the place were the lights attached to the concrete support beams every few rows. I skittered quickly through the darker spots, clutching my purse and my laptop bag close to my shoulder.
I practically rushed into the elevator just to get into a bright light source.
“Phew,” I whispered to myself.
I pressed the button for the penthouse floor and then started the long journey up. Sometimes the elevator ride felt like mere seconds. And other times, it felt like hours. My eyes slowly blinked open when the elevator doors dinged, and part of me wondered if I just fell asleep upright.
The fact that the hallway was bare with a door hanging open meant they were waiting for me. Fucking hell. I hated it when they waited for me. I rushed down the hallway, my heels clicking and my legs boasting of a day’s worth of prickle-pear.
Good thing my leg hair grew in the same color as my legs, despite the dark hair on top of my head.
“Sorry, sorry,” I said breathlessly as I rushed in, keeping my head down.
“You’re fine,” is all my boss said.
I wasted no time getting set up in my little perch of a corner. And once I logged into my laptop, I pulled up a blank Word document and titled it with the date, time of the evening, and the simple word of ‘minutes’.
Just like my boss wanted.
“All right,” my boss said after my eyes connected with his, letting him know that I was ready, “the meeting is open for business. Larry. Where are we on the movement of goods?”
My fingers flew across the screen, even though I never heard that phrase before.
Movement of goods?
What kind of goods did we move?
“Shipments went out last night to our clients,” Larry’s voice said from across the table. “I have heard from three of them, with the other two expected to be heard from by tomorrow morning.”
“And they’re satisfied with their purchases?” my boss asked.
“To my knowledge, but you know we always give seventy-two hours before we lock in deals.”
My boss grunted before pivoting. “Daniel. How are we on the court cases coming up? Do we know the judges personally?”
Daniel, one of the big wigs on the financial board, spoke up.
“We know half of them. Two of the four. The two we know already work with us, as per usual. The other two we don’t know simply because they are new to their jobs.
One is just breaking in with her first ever court room production, and the other transferred in and was elected by the populace. ”
I peeked up and saw my boss nod. “Good. Let’s make sure they get gift baskets from us. Let’s make a good first impression. Never hurt anyone before a court date.”
My eyes dropped back to the Word document, and I kept typing away.
“I have a question,” Robert, one of the partners at the firm, said.
My boss, Joshua Langley, simply held out his hand. “Go ahead, Bob.”
He leaned back in his chair. “We still have that unpaid invoice.”
That made my ears twitch.
They’d been talking about this invoice for the last quarter.
My boss’s ears turned red. “You’re kidding.”
Mr. Dahl shook his head. “We’ve tried everything. And the last attempt we tried? Both the phone and the email have been cut off.”
“Jesus Christ,” my boss growled.
“Suggestion?” a new voice to the financial board asked.
“All ears,” my boss muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“This is why law offices sometimes have their own in-house counsel. I’m sure it wouldn’t take much to dig up an address.
Why don’t we deliver a bill from temporary hirable in-house counsel stating that the invoice is to be paid, or further action regarding the contract that was signed will officially be taken? ”
My boss chewed on the inside of his cheek as Adam, the other partner to the firm, spoke up. “It’s not a bad idea at this point. We’ve given them an entire quarter.”
My boss groaned. “They’re also our largest client.”
I spoke before even realizing what I was doing. “That doesn’t mean they get to skirt the rules. Especially not if you’re skirting your own rules for them. The least they could do is step up to the plate with what you’re already giving.”
Every single eye in that room slowly turned toward me. My face turned beet red as I swallowed hard, keeping eye contact with my boss so that I didn’t seem weak or intimidated. If I was truly a paralegal at this place, then my voice was just as important in this meeting as everyone else’s.
At least, I hoped it would be.
My boss stared at me for a very long time before his lips finally curled. “She’s right.”
The room damn near let out a collective sigh as my shoulders slumped a bit. “I’m just saying, sir, that—”
My boss pointed at me but turned his attention back to the rest of the room as he interrupted me.
Of course.
Because why not.
“We’ve given them shot after shot,” my boss said, “and they still haven’t anted up.
Not a single penny. At this point, we’re in breach of our own contact.
So let’s just unfold the terms of the contract they’ve signed with us to their face.
And if they kick back, go prepared with a highlighted copy of their contract that states the stipulations for them, and against them. ”
I smiled. “Good idea, sir.”
He nodded back at me. “Good suggestion, Miss Mort.”
“Court,” I said.
“Huh?”
“It’s, uh… Jasmine Court, sir,” I said. “Like courtroom.”
He stared at me for a bit. “Riiiiiight. That’s right.”
But then, his attention turned back to the meeting, and I was back to being the over-glorified-paralegal-turned-secretary.
Oh yeah. I found a way to go to law school. After I was done snowballing myself out of all this debt, I’d start applying—
“Miss Court,” my boss snapped.
I didn’t even realize I wasn’t paying attention until I jumped a bit. “Sir?”
He shot me a glare. “Are you working? Or sitting there and looking pretty? Because I don’t pay you to sit there and look pretty. I pay other people for that.”
Chuckle rocketed across the room, and I wanted to melt into a puddle and slither my way into the sewer system.
I felt my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Sorry, sir.”
“We’ll start from the beginning of that statement,” my boss said in a clipped voice. “Jackson, repeat what you just asked.”
I swallowed hard as I had my fingers positioned, ready to get back to typing.
I’d never speak up in one of these meetings again, that much was for certain.
“When do we want to deliver the package to the client?” Jackson asked.
I pretty much tuned out after that. Not actually ‘tuned out.’ But I just slid into my silent, little typer roll, and I kept my thoughts to myself.
They talked about the contract and getting a copy printed out before I left.
They pointed out what portions they wanted me to highlight, and I had instructions to get that contract onto my boss’s desk, highlighting the way they wanted it before I left.
I sent the contract to the printer and was thankful when the meeting took a recess long enough for me to get those highlights done.
I packed it into a nice folder for my boss and handed it off to him as we started the back half of the meeting.
I was exhausted by the time the meeting finally broke up.
Hands were shaken. I sent a digital copy of the minutes to the three main partners at the firm before printing out a copy for our physical records.
I had strict instructions to print out the minutes, place them into an envelope, seal them, and then I had to put my signature over the sealed portion of the envelope.
I wasn’t sure why I always had to do that with the minutes after meetings like this.
But every firm had their kinks and quirks to work out.
“Jesus,” I sighed to myself.
By the time I made my way to the elevator to go home, the clock had struck a little after two in the morning. No wonder I was so fucking tired. I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes after hitting the button for the parking garage, ready to get back to my bed.
“Hold the elevator,” my boss said from down the hall.
Like a reflex, I placed my heeled foot in between the doors so that they wouldn’t close.
“Sir,” I said with a soft head nod as he strode his way into the elevator.
“Thanks,” he said as he looked over at the numbers pad. “Four, if you don’t mind.”
I just nodded and pressed the button for the fourth floor of the building.
That was our Human Resources floor.
“Reporting me for almost falling asleep in the meeting?” I asked with a soft giggle as the elevator lurched to life.
I hoped to get a small smile or something out of my boss, but he just peeked down at me. “No.”
I nodded softly. “Well, I’m sorry for the hiccup anyway.”
“It’s late.”
Man of few words, my boss.
“What time would you like me in tomorrow morning?” I asked.
He just shook his head, and I wasn’t sure what that meant.
“I could come in anytime you—”
He interrupted me, like he always enjoyed doing. “You don’t come in tomorrow. Nor Monday. Enjoy the long weekend. You’ve earned it.”
I was so shocked at his generosity that I didn’t even move until the elevator came to a halt.
“Th—um, thank you, sir,” I said as he stepped off the elevator onto the fourth floor.
“No problem. Enjoy the time off,” he said as he walked straight to the Human Resources office.
I furrowed my brow as I watched him dig out a set of keys from his pocket before the doors closed, leaving me alone in the metal casing.
Wow.
A whole weekend, plus a day, to myself.
What in the hell was I going to do with my time?