Caroline
The last time I was at Blackwood, Pierce & Caldwell, I don’t remember it being this tall. The building in Midtown houses a lot of businesses and Blackwood, Pierce & Caldwell takes up three floors.
I have to wait by the security desk while they call up and confirm that I’m supposed to be here.
Riding on the subway by myself was quite the experience.
We trundled into the city at a snail’s pace and I’m pleased to say that spending time with Killian, Eve, and Lilith around the city has made me confident enough to not feel like a complete tourist.
I turn around to watch the people milling in the lobby, passing the security panels by the elevator bank. There’s a rush of people hurrying to their desks, and I’m soon going to be one of them.
There’s a thrill of excitement fizzing in my blood. I still can’t believe I get to do something I love. That I have the opportunity to start over. Gerry was thrilled for me when I called her yesterday.
“Darling, I’m so proud of you,” she said, when I told her. “You’re finally living the life that’s destined for you.”
I laughed at that. “I’m not sure about destiny, but I’m definitely living the best life I can.”
I was sitting in the studio, watching Killian paint while I reviewed the case files Aiden had sent me. Bright sunlight from the windows spilled over his shirtless form making his skin shine like gold.
“Miss?” I come out of my daydream, looking at the guard. From his expression, he’s probably called me more than once and I was too lost in thoughts of Killian.
“Yes?”
“You can go up.”
“Thank you.”
Sliding my purse higher on my arm, I walk to the elevator bank. I press the button just as one’s closing and it slides open again. There’s only one person inside and she seems to be going to the same floor.
She’s about my height, dressed in all black, her thick dark hair flowing down her back like a curtain. Her expression is flat as she looks me over, but I’ve learned a thing or two from being around the city and I’m also dressed in black.
My dress is form fitting, short sleeved, with a modest square neckline, my hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail with loose strands curled and framing my face.
The only colors in my outfit are the Hermes scarf I’m using as a ponytail elastic, my red lipstick, and the red soles of my Louboutin’s.
“Is that a vintage Jean Gautier?” She asks, looking at my bag.
“It is,” I say in surprise. “Most people don’t recognize it.”
“Most people don’t have two brain cells to rub together,” she replies.
I laugh at her audacity and also wish I can be like her. The elevator doors open and we both step out. At the reception desk, she nods at me and walks away. No nice to meet you or hope to see you around.
“Hi!” The receptionist says, with a smile. “You’re Caroline Sinclair, correct?”
I take a deep breath and nod with a smile. She passes me my badge and leads me to Aiden’s office. He’s on a phone call and acknowledges me with a nod when he sees me through the windows of his office.
His assistant’s desk is empty. I met her last time when I came for my interview. She’s a middle aged woman with a kind smile which can turn sharp enough to kill.
“You’re back.”
I turn to see Sarah, Aiden’s assistant. Her blonde hair is twisted into a classic knot, and she’s wearing navy blue slacks with a white silk blouse.
“First day,” I reply.
“Aiden’s going to be a while. Come with me, and I’ll show you to your office.”
I follow her down the carpeted hallway to the junior offices.
“There’s a bullpen of interns through there so if you’re overwhelmed, feel free to dump something on them,” Sarah says.
“Does Aiden have an intern?”
“No. After an intern messed up one of his cases, he refused to get one of his own. That’s why you’re here as an associate.”
“Right,” I say.
She stops in front of an office. “This is you.”
It’s small and cozy, but there are windows which brings in plenty of light. I step inside and set my bag on the desk.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Sarah says. “Aiden will likely see you when he’s done with his call.”
“Thank you,” I tell her.
She walks off, and I release a breath. Taking a seat, I pull my laptop out of my purse and set it on the desk.
When I log into my email, I see that Aiden has already replied to the case brief I sent him with corrections I need to make and there’s a slew of other emails with tasks I need to tackle.
Meetings have been added to my work calendar all while I slept.
Aiden handles high profile cases, the kind that will surely end up in the public eye eventually. The case brief he sent me is for a celebrity divorce. The couple has been together for ten years and they’re a fan favorite, couple goals, the fan worship is through the roof.
Basically, a lot of discretion is required when handling family law cases, whether they’re celebrities or not.
Adrenaline courses through me. Who needs coffee when you have the rush of cases to keep you going? I’ve always believed that being a lawyer isn’t hard. Yes, it requires you to think and it can be mentally draining, especially family law. But I’ve never found it hard.
I’m replying to an email from Aiden when someone knocks on my office door. I look up to see Aiden himself. He’s wearing a tailored navy suit with a white shirt and patterned tie.
“Working through lunch on your first day?” He asks, stepping into the office.
I glance at the clock on my laptop. It’s a little past one already and all I’ve had to eat are the scrambled eggs and toast Killian made me this morning. The thought of him makes me blush a little and I have to bite off a smile to stop myself from looking like a lunatic.
“I didn’t even realize. I’ve reviewed the cases you sent me and I was just replying to your email about the Bradshaw case,” I say.
“I appreciate your dedication, but take the opportunity to step out of the office when you can,” he says. “When we move to litigation, you’re going to get sick of these four walls. Come with me.”
He gets up and walks out of the office, leaving me no choice other than to follow him.
“How are you liking New York so far?” Aiden asks, when we’re out on the sidewalk.
“I love it,” I reply honestly.
“You live in Brooklyn, right?”
“Yeah, in the same building as Lilith. A few floors above.” I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying anything more.
Like how the apartment was gifted to me by my ex’s grandmother and I’m now living with his brother who I’m pretty sure I’m falling for and who thinks I’m the ideal for grace and beauty.
“You didn’t consider moving to the city?” Aiden asks.
“No, the apartment is mine,” I say. Half of it, anyway, and I don’t mind sharing it.
We walk three blocks to a restaurant where the host knows Aiden and the manager greets him like they’re long lost friends.
This part I’m all too familiar with. It’s the same with my father, brother, and Beckett.
They have places where they have lunch and dinner everyday and the whole staff knows their preferences.
I try to picture Killian here, among all the men and women in expensive suits and gold watches, and I can’t.
He doesn’t belong in this world. While Aiden talks to the manager, I pull out my phone and glance at it surreptitiously.
There’s no message from Killian, not that I’m expecting him to message.
Aiden and I discuss the cases at lunch and he lets me pick his brain. He’s incredibly patient with my questions, and I really appreciate that.
“Do you think you’re ready to attend your first client meeting?” Aiden asks, on our way back to the office.
I know he’s offering me an out as a way of gauging if I can handle the work.
“It’s already on my calendar,” I reply with confidence.
Sitting in client meetings and contract negotiations is nothing new for me.
Usually, my father or brother did the talking while I sat there.
I know it’s going to be the same with Aiden, as he’s the lead counsel, but I also think he’ll give me the opportunity to handle cases on my own when he thinks I’m ready.
After lunch, it’s more of the same, but I do get the opportunity to stop by the kitchenette and get myself a coffee.
A group of interns is complaining about one of the partners and I can’t help listening in while I doctor my coffee how I like it.
It’s only been two months, but I didn’t realize how much I missed the happenings of a law firm.
Some days can be boring, but there are days when the whole office is in chaos and everyone is moving around.
They quiet suddenly and I think a senior lawyer has walked in, but when I turn around, it’s the girl I saw in the elevator this morning. Her hair is pulled up into a loose bun now and the sleeves of her top are pushed up to reveal the tattoo of a harp on her arm.
“Hi!” I say.
The interns look at me like I’ve sprouted a second head.
“You’re awfully chipper for hour five in this hell hole,” she says.
I laugh because I think she’s joking. Except the way she’s looking at me, with a completely blank expression, makes me think maybe she’s not joking. Is she a lawyer here as well?
The interns are looking between us with their mouths open.
“This ‘hell hole’ is better than the one I left, and it’s only my first day here,” I say.
“That explains it,” she says. “You’ve still got that glow of innocence about you. Your soul is clearly still intact.”
She makes her espresso and leaves with a nod to me, ignoring the interns.
“Were you just talking to Ilona?” One of the interns asks.
“Is that her name?” I ask.
“Nobody talks to Ilona,” another whispers.
“Is she a senior lawyer?”
“She works in the mail room, but this is literally the nicest she’s been to anyone since she started two months ago.”