11 Nicole
Nicole
OLLIE
I have a date!
Nicole frowns, almost typing in How does lying low get you a date?
But she refrains. Ian is still on the chat, and it’s best to keep them safe.
She’s at her desk in a nearly empty office, thinking of maybe going home before nine on a Saturday for once.
She could text Ollie privately, but maybe it was just a dating app or something.
Besides, this could all be nothing. She’s still not convinced they actually saw anything.
They probably just wasted her time, which pisses her off a little, but better safe than sorry.
She said she’d look into it, and she will—she’ll talk to Ellen Kang.
Ellen represents all kinds of criminals—good guys, too.
She even used to be an ADA, but somehow now she’s the partner who works with folks like McClintock Arms, the Martin Pharmaceutical Company, and some people Nicole knows are crime bosses.
She’ll know if anyone is after Nicole’s friends.
Nicole’s not entirely sure how to broach it: Hey, my friends think they saw a murder and then the body was removed, and I know you work with a lot of criminals, so maybe you could ask around and find out if they’re crazy?
But if she makes the appointment for Monday now, she has all weekend to come up with a good story.
Maybe she’ll just say she’s interested in what Ellen does—fuck, maybe she is !
She felt so in control while Brandon and Ollie were losing it.
Well, while Brandon was. Ollie wasn’t spiraling out so much as spiraling in, gathering all the information like it was a new pack of stray dogs for him to walk.
But they were both looking to her for advice, and she gave it so easily.
No researching, no helping someone else with case notes but, in the action, making stuff happen.
It was overwhelming, but it felt good to actually be doing something.
She hasn’t really done anything in years.
In college she was going to save the world, be an activist lawyer fighting for change, but then law school made her realize she needed to be smart before she could be idealistic, and then the law firm just made her want a boring, comfortable life, which is better than the no life at all she has.
Expectations lost their firmness bit by bit, a bowl of ice cream left out to melt into simple sweet soup.
But helping Brandon and Ollie? That was something outside all her expectations. And it felt good. But also terrifying. Maybe she’s not ready to be Ellen Kang, but…she’s not against learning more.
She goes upstairs to the partners’ floor.
Ellen Kang’s office isn’t one of the big ones—despite how much money she brings in, she’s not a name partner.
Her office is down a hall, out of sight, next to Jeremy Blatt, one of the oldest senior partners, who doesn’t come in much anymore.
They share a secretary, too, an older white woman named Cherie who always smells like cigarettes.
But she’s not in right now. Not shocking.
Nicole should have emailed Ellen to make the appointment, but she wanted to beg a little, if possible.
She sighs and turns to go back downstairs, when Ellen Kang’s office door opens.
Ellen’s head pops out, short hair a little tousled, wearing bright red lipstick and a smoky eye. She stares at Nicole, eyes narrowing, and for a moment, Nicole feels caught doing something wrong without knowing what.
Ellen shrugs, her long neck bobbing out the side of the door. “Cartoons,” she says.
“What?” Nicole asks, confused.
“Just get in here.” Ellen Kang’s head vanishes back into her office.
The glass walls’ privacy screen is up, and the lights are out, so Nicole isn’t sure what’s going on, and for a moment, she’s worried that Ellen Kang already knows everything somehow.
That some crime boss has asked her to give Nicole a talking-to, get her to give up her friends, maybe even kill her.
But she can’t say no to a partner. So she walks into the office.
Ellen Kang’s back is to her, a tight blue dress unzipped to halfway down her back.
“Zip it up, would you, Cartoons?”
“Oh.” Nicole steps forward. Not an assassination, then. She zips the dress to the top, watching Ellen Kang’s skin vanish under the blue fabric, feeling a strange thrill at having seen so much of it, at how smooth and pearly it was.
Ellen Kang steps forward and turns around.
The blue dress is high-collared and sleeveless, a corset fit that flares out at the waist, a chain of pleating that creates a long loose shaft of a skirt.
She looks gorgeous; it’s a dress for a party, not work.
But then, Nicole remembers, it is Saturday night.
“Thanks,” Ellen says. Just Ellen, Nicole tells herself. She just zipped her dress up after all.
“Sure. Did you say ‘cartoons’?”
Ellen smirks, going over to her desk. The office is plush, like all the partner offices, but more feminine than Nicole would have imagined, with a white armchair and ottoman with a lavender throw pillow, a soft pink rug.
Ellen sits down in the armchair and starts putting on a pair of blue heels.
“Sorry,” she says, not looking up. “The partners don’t know every junior associate’s name, but you do earn nicknames from us after a while. ”
“And mine is Cartoons?” Nicole asks, wondering how bad that is.
“Someone noticed you’re in the office more than anyone else,” Ellen says, then looks up, a wicked smile on her face. “Except Saturday morning.”
“I have a standing brunch,” Nicole says, defensive. “I don’t watch cartoons.”
“Relax,” Ellen says, standing. “It’s far from the worst of the nicknames. It’s cute, right? Reminds everyone how hard you work, makes you sound sort of innocent. Way better than Tuna Lunch and Pitstains.”
Nicole frowns, knowing exactly which other associates she means. “Yeah.”
“Your real name is…Nikki?” Ellen tilts her face slightly and squints with one eye, like she’s expecting to get a slap for guessing wrong.
“Nicole.”
Ellen nods. “I was Ellie for years at my first firm. Nicole. I’ll try to remember it.
Thanks for the help. I have a date, and this guy, I think he’s just trying to show off, but it’s some black-tie fundraiser, and I didn’t want to go all the way back uptown to change, so I brought this dress. Thing is too fucking tight though.”
“You look great.” It comes out soft, more appreciative than it should.
Ellen looks Nicole over, as if evaluating how sincere she is. “Thanks.” She leans back on her desk. “So what were you doing outside my office?”
Oh. Shit. She thought she’d have the weekend to come up with a story. “I was, uh, trying to make an appointment to see you.”
“This about your mom? She okay?”
Nicole blinks, confused, until she remembers the earlier lie.
That must have gotten around. “No. I mean, she’s fine.
Just grazed and sort of overreacted.” Really, if her mom were hit by a car, Nicole wouldn’t know for a few months until her mom casually mentioned it in a rare phone call, as if it were old, dull news.
“Okay, so?” Ellen asks.
Nicole is silent, trying to think. She has no story. She is unprepared.
“You okay?” Ellen asks.
“My mom wasn’t hit by a car,” Nicole says. This always happens. When she isn’t prepared, she falls back on the truth. Not great for a lawyer. “I lied.”
Ellen grins, as if this is fun. “All right, so what’s the truth?”
“My friends…” Nicole sighs. “Two good friends. They think they saw a murder. They freaked out and called me. But when I went to see them, there was no body. There was evidence of one maybe having been removed though.”
Ellen’s eyes widen, not in shock exactly, more in curiosity. She adjusts an earring. A cat studying prey. “So you came to me? Why not call the cops?”
“I…know you work with a lot of larger organizations that keep track of crime in the city,” Nicole says, the words coming out too slowly as she focuses on being careful.
Ellen laughs, crossing her arms. “Your euphemism is shit, but I like that you didn’t sound judgmental when you said it.
” She picks a black purse up off the desk and walks past Nicole, out the door.
Nicole follows, not sure if she’s just gotten herself fired.
“So you’re worried your friends are witnesses and next on some kind of list, so you kept them from the cops.
Solid call.” Ellen says, headed for the elevator.
“Sure, I can ask around about bodies vanishing.” She says it like she’s going to check the weather.
They stop in front of the elevator doors, which reflect them both: Ellen all glamour, Nicole barely her shadow.
Ellen leans forward and runs her middle finger over the corner of her mouth, smoothing out a lipstick smudge Nicole didn’t even see.
Then she leans back and hits the button.
“For now, tell your friends to keep their heads down, out of sight. Let me know if anything else turns up.”
“That’s exactly what I told them,” Nicole says, feeling proud. Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She ignores it.
“Well, good on you, Cartoons,” Ellen says, getting into the elevator.
“I’ll be in touch if I hear anything.” She hits the button in the elevator, and Nicole almost follows her in before realizing she just has to walk down one flight, and she’s not really done for the day.
Ellen turns around, looking like a sapphire set in a crown, and smiles as the doors close.
Nicole stands alone in the office for a moment, letting everything that just happened wash over her.
Good on you , Ellen said. That felt nice.
Knowing she told the boys the right thing to do.
Hopefully it’s nothing, hopefully Ellen tells her she heard nothing, and they can dump the phone and forget all about all this, just go on with their lives.
That’s the best outcome. If everyone just leaves this alone and forgets anything ever happened.
Her phone buzzes again.
IAN
A date? Well if you decide to steal their phone like Brandon, maybe we can start a collection
OLLIE
Not funny
Nicole sighs. Her friends aren’t really great at leaving things alone.