MRS. WEST

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟟

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It's 5:30 in the morning when I hear my phone ringing on the nightstand. Whoever it was got some nerve waking me up from my deep sleep.

I rub my eyes, adjusting them to the sunlight peeking through the curtains. I run my hand over the other side of the bed, expecting Cameron's body to lay there, but then I remember last night. He's probably so tired of me by now. I mean, I would be too.

I grab my phone from off the table, squinting at the screen. It's Ted. What could Ted possibly need from me right now? From what I knew, work had started at 7:00 AM.

I stare at the screen, hoping it goes away, but when it doesn't, I swipe accept anyway.

"...Hello?" My voice is thick with sleep and irritation.

"Dixie!" Ted's voice comes through way too cheerful for this hour. "Good morning. Did I wake you?"

I sit up slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.

"Yes, Ted. You did," I say flatly.

"Oh, well- right, yes. Early start, I suppose," he chuckles awkwardly.

I already know this isn't going to be quick.

"What do you need?" I ask, cutting straight through it.

"Well, first off, how are you?" he asks.

I shut my eyes. Here we go again.

"I'm fine," I reply. "What do you need, Ted?"

"Good, good. That's good to hear," he says, clearly not listening to the tone of my voice at all. "You know, yesterday was.. quite the day."

I let out a slow breath. "Please get to the point."

"I just think," he continues, ignoring me entirely, "that cases like that, they can be intense- high pressure. A lot riding on them."

"Yes," I say. "I'm aware."

"And you've handled pressure very well in the past," he adds quickly. "Exceptionally well, actually. You know, you're one of our strongest attorneys."

Whatever this was, I wasn't liking it.

"Ted," I say, my patience thinning, "what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying," he starts carefully, "that yesterday's outcome- while not entirely unfavorable-"

I laugh.

"Not entirely unfavorable?" I repeat. "Ted, my client is in prison."

"Yes, but not on death row," he counters quickly. "Which, given the circumstances-"

"-is still a loss," I cut in sharply.

He pauses before sighing from his end.

"Yes," he admits. "It is."

I swing my legs over the side of the bed, standing up and pacing slowly across the room.

"So why are you calling me at 5:30 in the morning to tell me something I already know?" I ask.

"I just wanted to talk about next steps," he says quietly.

"Next steps," I echo.

"Yes," he continues. "Moving forward, strategically."

I stop pacing.

"What about them?" I ask, slower now.

"Well," he says, and I can practically hear him shifting in his seat, "we've got a few upcoming cases that are significant."

"And?" I press.

"And given everything," he continues, "we think it might be best if you took a step back from leading those- just temporarily."

I go very still, like an animal in camouflage. "..what?"

"Just until things settle," he adds quickly. "Until you've had time to reset, regroup—"

"Say it clearly, Ted."

He hesitates. "Georgia will be taking over your next few cases."

For a second, I don't say anything, because I'm trying to make sure I heard him right.

"...Georgia," I repeat.

"Yes," he says carefully. "She's already been briefed on—"

"You gave my cases to Georgia?" My voice sharpens.

"Dixie, listen-"

"No!" I interrupt. "No- Ted, you gave my cases to her?"

"It's not permanent," he says quickly. "This is just a temporary adjustment-"

"A temporary adjustment?" I laugh again, louder this time. "You're benching me."

"I'm not benching you," he insists.

"You are," I spit back. "That's exactly what this is."

"It's about optics," he says. "After such a case like that, we have to consider how things look-"

"I don't care how it looks," I snap. "I care about my work."

"And your work is exactly why we're doing this," he says, his tone tightening slightly. "You're one of the best we have, Dixie. Which is why we need you at your best."

I shake my head, even though he can't see me. "And you think I'm not?"

"I think," he says carefully, "that yesterday shook confidence."

"In who?" I demand. "You? Or everyone else?"

"Both," he admits.

"So, Georgia?" I say, my voice is colder now. "She's your solution?"

"She's capable," he replies.

"So am I," I shoot back immediately.

"I know you are," he says. "No one's questioning that."

"You just took my cases," I say flatly. "That feels like questioning it."

He's quiet for a long time. Good, let him think about his actions.

"This isn't punishment."

"It's a reset," he insists. "A chance for you to come back stronger."

I let out a slow breath, pressing my fingers against my temple.

"And what exactly does that look like to you?" I ask. "Me proving myself again?"

"...yes," he says.

"I've already proven myself," I say.

"And you will again," he replies quickly. "I have no doubt about that."

"Then why give her my cases?" I push.

"Because right now," he says, more firmly now, "we need wins. Clean wins. And Georgia—"

"-gets to step in and take credit for my work?" I cut in unapologetically.

"Dixie, that's not what this is."

"That's exactly what it is," I say.

Out of everyone, Ted should know better than having Georgia take away my cases. If he thinks someone like Georgia is on my level, then it must mean I'm not the best lawyer at all.

I can't believe I'm even getting compared to her!

"When do I come back?" I ask.

"You're not out," he says. "You'll still be working, assisting where needed-"

"Assisting," I repeat, the word tasting bitter.

"Yes, Dixie." he sighs.

"Until when?" I press.

"Until you can show," he says slowly, "that you're back where you were."

Back where I was- like I fell, like I slipped. Like everything I've built suddenly means less because of one case. Just one. Stupid.

"Okay," I say finally. The calm in my voice surprises even me.

"Okay?" he repeats, cautious.

"Yes," I say. "Okay."

What else is there to say? Arguing to get my position back wasn't going to change anything.

"Dixie-" he starts.

"I'll be in at seven," I cut him off. "Is that all?"

There's a small pause before he exhales. "Yes."

"Great," I nod to myself. "Buh-bye, Ted."

I hang up before he even has the chance to say bye. What a great way to start my morning.

I don't go back to sleep, there's no point– instead I decide to actually move. If I sit here any longer, I'm either going to scream or throw something, and neither of those are productive or worth my time right now.

I grab a few clothes and head for the bathroom. I strip, step into the shower, letting the water fall down my face, and shoulders, all the way to my toes. It's scorching hot, but I barely register it. If there's anything I'm focused on, it was that stupid phone call.

By the time I step out, I'm already pulling myself back together. My outfit was sitting on the dresser, waiting for me. I throw my brown skirt on, and follow it with a white under shirt and beige blazer. I swoop my hair into a low puff, making no room for any rebellious curls to escape.

I grab my bag, check it once- twice- and head downstairs.

I walk down the hall, and the bathroom door is open. Cameron is there, standing by the sink with a toothbrush in his mouth, one hand braced against the counter while the other moved lazily. He looked so perfect- like he doesn't even try.

It makes me more annoyed than I want to admit.

He glances up when he sees me.

"Hey, baby," he says around the toothbrush, voice low and warm like he completely forgot about last night.

I pause on the last step, then keep walking. "Morning,"

I reply shortly, heading toward the counter to grab my keys. He spits in the sink, rinses his mouth then wipes his face with a towel, turning to me.

"How'd you sleep?" He throws the towel over his shoulder.

"Okay."

"You alright?" he asks.

I nod once. "I'm fine."

He doesn't buy it. "Dix."

I keep moving, pretending to look for something in my bag that I know is already there.

"I said I'm fine."

"Yeah," he says slowly, stepping a little closer behind me, "and I don't believe you."

I exhale sharply through my nose. I don't have time for this.

"I have to go to work."

"What happened?" he presses.

"Nothing." I say automatically.

"Dixie West." He says firm. The way he says my full name makes me stop moving.

My hands drop to my sides, and I turn to him. "They gave all my cases to Georgia."

His brows pull together immediately. "...what?"

"They gave. My cases. To Georgia," I repeat, slower this time, like saying it differently might make it make more sense.

"They're having her take over until I can 'prove myself again.' Whatever that means."

His expression shifts from confusion to disbelief, and for some reason I'm glad someone finally understands.

"After one case?" he asks.

"Yes!" I snap. "After one case."

"That's-" he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, "that's insane."

"Thank you," I say, throwing my hands up slightly. "Finally, someone with a brain."

"Dix-"

"No, because what does that even mean?" I continue, pacing slightly now. "Prove myself again? I've been proving myself. That's how I got these cases in the first place."

"I know," he says, calm, steady.

"Suddenly I'm not good enough?" I push. "Now suddenly Georgia- Georgia out of all people- is the better option?"

He watches me carefully. "She's not better than you."

"I know that," I say immediately. "But apparently they don't."

"Or they're just panicking," he offers. "Trying to save face."

I let out a frustrated laugh. "By handing everything over to her? Yeah, that's a great strategy."

He steps closer again. "You're still the best lawyer there,"

I shake my head. "Definitely doesn't feel like it."

"That doesn't make it true."

I look at him and I want to believe him, but the irritation is louder.

"I just got sidelined."

He nods quickly. "I get why you're mad."

"I'm not mad," I say quickly.

He raises an eyebrow.

"You're not?"