29. Sunny
I t’s five o’clock on Friday, and I can’t get out of the office fast enough.
Work has been an absolute nightmare since my first court appearance two weeks ago. You would think it had gone terribly, judging by what a nervous wreck I’ve been. But quite the opposite.
I did well. Extremely well—or that’s what I’m told, at least.
One of the junior partners at my firm happened to be in the courtroom for a status hearing on another case and said I was a natural in front of the judge.
I believe “poised and confident” were the exact words he used, but I can’t be sure because, while he was complimenting me, I was still so keyed up from my five minutes in the spotlight that I could barely register what he was saying.
But back at the office that afternoon, he told our entire department during a lunch meeting that I was born to be in a courtroom.
Which means that now, in addition to the heaps of legal research requests that land on my desk every day, partners are sending me to court for them on a regular basis as well. In the past two weeks, I’ve gone five times.
I thought I knew what work stress was before last week. Now all I want to do is call in sick and read romance novels to escape whichever circle of Dante’s Inferno is reserved for lawyers.
On the bright side, Jeremy’s supremely proud of me.
He says I’m the one-in-a-million litigation associate who’s just as stellar at making oral arguments as she is written ones.
The fact that he’s this impressed by me—especially when he’s so quick to point out how completely inept most people are—makes me feel high as a kite.
I wish I didn’t find his validation so intoxicating.
All I can hope for is that my extraordinary courtroom skills are a sign that I actually do belong there, but my nervous system is just slow to catch on.
When it does, maybe I won’t feel like I’m trying to shove a square peg into a round hole all the time.
And I won’t need Jeremy’s validation this much.
My boyfriend would never dream of being the first associate to leave the office like I am today.
He insists on putting in face time, and refuses to call it a day until the majority of partners are well on their way home.
He’s often encouraged me to do the same, but he has no idea that I’m barely treading water right now.
If I don’t set some boundaries at work, I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to put up with this job before it breaks me.
For the time being, I tell him that I have a reputation at my office for being exceptionally efficient, and that I don’t need to worry about staying late as much as the next associate.
By the grace of the litigation gods, this explanation seems to satisfy him.
When I make it back to his apartment—which I’ll officially move into once my lease is up this summer—I take a steaming hot shower in an unsuccessful attempt to melt the week’s tension off my body. Afterward, I put on my pajamas and start packing for our weekend trip to Beachwood.
We’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning, and I’m anxious.
Odds are, I’m finally going to learn the truth about the man who fathered me.
And why—as far as my mom’s concerned—he’s dead to us.
Although I definitely see the value in asking these questions, I’m still not sure I want to know the answers.
When I’m finished packing, I plop down onto the couch and turn on the TV. I must pass out mere seconds later because, when Jeremy walks through the front door, my favorite house flipping show is nearly over, and I don’t remember watching any of it.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, kneeling to kiss me. “You feeling okay?”
I nod through a yawn. “Just wiped out from work. How was your day?”
“Pretty damn good,” he says with a rare gleam of excitement in his eyes. “I have news.”
“Wait, wait—don’t tell me,” I say, perking up a bit. “You made partner. And you’re the first attorney in history to do it in less than two years.”
He smirks. “Very funny.”
“No? Let me try again. The President called. He wants you to be his Chief of Staff.”
Jeremy rolls his eyes. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Okay, I’ve got it this time. You read an obscure book on virology last night and figured out how to cure the common cold!”
He laughs. “Is there a two-drink minimum for this little comedy routine of yours? Maybe I should I take a seat—it seems like you’re on a roll.”
I giggle. “Nah, don’t worry. Show’s over.” I grab him by the collar and pull him close so his lips are hovering over mine. “I missed you this morning,” I say.
Jeremy had to go into the office at an ungodly hour today, so he didn’t wake me up in the way I’ve become accustomed to.
“I missed you more.” He closes the gap between our lips, and his kiss is so good it makes me moan. “You can’t get enough of me, can you…” he says.
All I can do is shake my head. I have no clever retort, because it’s the truth.
Being intimate with Jeremy is far and away the highlight of my day.
And it’s the perfect stress release from the immense pressure of my job.
Needless to say, I’ve been very stressed lately, and I think my boyfriend’s picking up on the fact that I’m a little bit addicted to him. Of course, he doesn’t mind.
“Quick, tell me this news of yours before I get distracted again,” I tease.
“Well, I hope you had a nice catnap, because we’re going out,” he says. Then after a beat, he adds, “Go get dressed,” apparently surprised that I haven’t hopped off the couch yet.
But my tired limbs remain glued to the soft leather beneath them as I raise one exhausted eyebrow at Jeremy. “Out? Where? And, more importantly… why ?”
“Well, it just so happens I’m among a very small group of attorneys who were cherry-picked by our newest partner to have dinner with a prospective client tonight. If we reel in this business, it means big money for the firm, and I’ll be part of the team that made it happen.”
“Wow,” I exclaim, my eyes wide. I’m happy for Jeremy, but I’m also sleepy, and I hear it in my voice. I don’t sound as impressed with him as I am—and he notices.
“What’s the problem?” he asks with a furrowed brow.
I shake my head. “No, nothing. I’m really happy for you, babe—I’m just tired from work. I was hoping to get to bed early tonight since we’re leaving for Beachwood first thing tomorrow morning.”
He rolls his eyes. “Come on, Sunny. It’s just dinner. We have to eat anyway, right?”
I let out a little groan. “Can’t you go without me? I’m already in my pajamas.”
Normally, when I’m lying on the couch like this, Jeremy sits close to me and puts my feet in his lap.
But he doesn’t do that now. He gets up from where he was kneeling beside me and sits in an armchair.
I have to shift upright so I can see him.
I watch as he drags his fingers through his hair and clenches his jaw.
“Babe, everyone on the team is married, and they’re all bringing their spouses,” he says.
“I’m already the youngest associate of the group, which puts me at a disadvantage.
If I show up alone, I’m going to look like the kid who just graduated from law school, and the client won’t give two shits about my opinion on how we can best defend their case.
I need to stand out for my intellect, Sunny, not my age.
If I can dazzle this client with a great defense strategy and help seal this deal for the firm, I’m bound to be selected as second chair again if we go to trial. ”
As is often the case when I’m talking to my boyfriend, I’m smiling despite myself. “You and your obsession with being second chair. Can’t you let anyone else have a turn?”
Jeremy doesn’t see the humor in my joke. “No,” he says flatly.
I let out a sound that’s halfway between a whimper and a sigh.
“These dinners always go on endlessly, you know that. We have to make our way through a million courses, and the wine pairings, and dessert—and that’s only the beginning.
Somebody always suggests going for drinks afterward, and then we’re out until two in the morning.
I really can’t do that tonight, babe. Besides, you’re brilliant, and your words speak for themselves.
You don’t need me on your arm for people to take you seriously. ”
His nostrils flare, and he’s quiet for several seconds before he says, “Fine.”
When he gets up and goes to the bar cart behind me to pour himself a glass of whiskey, my gut clenches.
Jeremy can be moody sometimes. I didn’t notice it as much when we were just friends. It was mostly witty banter between us back in those days. I wonder if he used to come home from studying with me at the library and get gruff like this on the phone with Anjali.
I wonder if it bothered her the way it bothers me.
The vast majority of the time, he’s showering me with love and affection so, when he isn’t , it knocks the wind out of me.
I get up from the couch and walk over to him. “Are you mad?” I ask, my heart rate picking up.
Jeremy shakes his head but doesn’t look me in the eye. And he doesn’t say anything. He downs his whiskey then stalks into the bedroom.
I follow him. “I know we were planning to take your car to Beachwood, but I can drive if you want. That way, you can stay out as late as you need to tonight and sleep in the car tomorrow,” I suggest, hoping he’ll come around.
When he finally looks at me, his gaze is glacial. “I think you should sleep at your place tonight. I can drop you off in a cab on my way to dinner. You’re tired, and I don’t want to wake you when I get home.”
His words are like a punch to the gut. I honestly don’t know whether I want to give him a piece of my mind or burst into tears.