Part 5. MONDAY (Jan. 19)
I woke up a few minutes before six a.m. just like normal. It didn't look like either Jaycee or I had shifted in the night. We still faced each other, though Jaycee was using my right arm as a pillow. I was glad she wasn't awake yet. I have the worst morning breath ever. I'm sure if the pentagon learned of it they'd subject me to all sorts of tests in an attempt to weaponize it.
I slowly extricated myself from Jaycee and managed to turn the alarm clock off before it signaled. As I got ready for work I wondered if Jaycee would wake as I was moving around, but she was dead to the world. I was a bit jealous. I re-set the alarm to go off at eight-thirty, taped a short note to call me on the front of the clock and left for work.
Normally I'd hit the gym before heading into work, but I still had plenty of work to do to meet my noon deadline. Besides, from carrying the heavy contract binders around plus all the sex Jaycee was giving me, I thought I'd gotten enough exercise anyway. The nice thing about living downtown was that work was just a short ten minute walk away. Being in a southern city, even in late January it really wasn't that cold. Instead it was just cool enough to prevent my from sweating from my heavy load.
I was still only the second one into the office. Ms. Wilkinson, the matronly legal secretary I shared with four other attorneys, was already at her desk. She wouldn't let any of the attorneys call her by her first name, even though we were a very informal office.
I learned early on how indispensable a good legal secretary was for my work. Being a young associate, I had to keep a lot of people happy if I wanted a future in the firm. Even though our office was only a small cell on the firm's multi-national org chart, it was still possible to rise through the ranks to partner here. As such, I needed to keep the partners happy with the quality of my work and high billable hours (in order to make them money), as well as the clients happy with the quality of my work and low billable hours (in order to save them money). A nice tightrope act that very few could effectively manage. Ms. Wilkinson would check over the memos I wrote, the letters I sent, and prevented me every once in a while from making a stupid and costly (thus, stupid) mistake. But even more importantly, she helped with the social side of things. She kept me informed of the personal lives of the partners and clients, reminding me of birthdays, anniversaries, major and (sometimes) minor events, and most important above all - the latest gossip. It struck me as sheer idiocy my fellow associates didn't cultivate a friendship with her, or others like her, who could help in such a manner. And if I tried to suggest doing so, they probably would have dismissed anything the guy with less seniority had to say about the subject anyway.
"Even though you're carrying that burden, I can still see you're strutting like a proud rooster this morning," Ms. Wilkinson called to me.
"Ms. Wilkinson, what a glorious morning. Your smile is a beacon of sunshine that warms my heart," I schmoozed.
"So ... what's her name?" she inquired.
"That obvious, huh?" She followed me into my office and sat down for the details. Hey, I had to provide my own gossip to her. That was part of our deal.
"Her name's Jaycee Wade. I won her in a poker game Saturday night. She's now my sex slave."
"Quit your joshing. Really, how's your ... wait, you said Jaycee?" I nodded. "As in Hannah's roommate that you're half in love with?"
How the hell did she remember the name of my ex's roommate?!? The woman had a mind like a steel trap!
"I was not half in love with her. Seriously in lust with her, yes, but not love at all."
"You just keep on telling yourself that," she chided. "But if you weren't in love with her before, you are now. I recognize that look in your eye."
"Whatever. Anyway, could you clear it with security downstairs for her to visit? She's coming in around mid-morning."
"I'll take care of it. That's J-a-y-c-e-e?" she spelled out.
My mouth flopped open in shock. "How ...?"
"Please, William. There's very little about your life I don't know."
I was simply dumbfounded.
"Now, onto other topics," she continued. "I discovered who those men were who met with Mr. Wiseman late Friday afternoon."
"Oh, yeah?" I hadn't known our managing partner had met anyone unusual that afternoon, but if Ms. Wilkinson was telling me about it then it was important.
"They're all partners from other offices. Two are from the New York office, one from the D.C. office."
So far, no big deal.
"And they're all on the executive committee."
Oh, shit.
Layoffs were coming, and they were coming today.
Shit, shit, shit!
"Mike Reynolds instructed me to have all current projects completed by noon today," I told her.
Ms. Wilkinson's eyes saddened. "Oh," she said.
What the hell? This didn't make sense. There were all kinds of deadwood to pare away here before they should even consider dropping me. I was barely into my fourth year but I was already starting to generate good business for the firm. I'd even brought in The Beck Fund, one of the fastest growing hedge funds around. Granted we weren't handling anywhere close to their entire legal work, but I had it on good authority that was going to change for the better, and soon. There were several fifth, sixth, even seventh year senior associates making a lot more money than me who were so useless it was a wonder they had managed to stay as long as they had. There was a rumor that one only had a job because he had blackmail material on Mr. Wiseman.
"You may be thinking the worst, but that might not be it," she said trying to cheer me up.
"How do I get that instruction and it not mean my butt's hitting the sidewalk?" I asked.
"Maybe you're just being considered for lay-offs, and they're still debating who gets the axe?" she ventured.
"That's not much better," I sighed.
"I'll see what I can find out for you," she said while standing up.
"Thanks."
I knew I'd be ok if I had to leave the firm. But there's a big difference between walking away on your own terms and being thrown out on your keester, even if it had nothing to do with one's on-the-job performance.
I turned my attention to work. Or tried to. I was easily distracted. It took me a while but I finally got into a flow and started flying through pages. Occasionally I'd hear some muttered curse or exclamation from the hallway as the office slowly filled up and the gossip mill captured a new victim. But for the most part I ignored it. Heck, over half our attorneys didn't normally come in until between 8:30 and 9:00. The expletives had not yet begun to expectorate.
About 8:15, Ms. Wilkinson re-entered my office. "So far I've discovered that Andrea, Brian, Jeannette, Jasmine, and Woody all received the same instructions." That was almost a third of the associates on the transactional side. "Buddy, Janet, and Pamela have also come in, but I haven't been able to find out about them."
"What about on the litigation side?" I asked.
"Not a peep," she answered. "But it's kind of hard to stop a lawsuit on a dime. Besides, they've got less going on over there than we do. Some of them were watching movies on their laptops all last week."
"Ok, thanks for keeping me informed, though I'm not sure I want a running commentary on the carnage. How about you have lunch with me and Jaycee? You can update me then and we can talk it out."
"That sounds good. And I'll be able to see if this girl gets my seal of approval," she teased.
A few minutes later my cell phone rang, showing my home number.
"Good morning, my Jaycee," I answered.
"Good morning, Will. Thanks for letting me sleep in," she yawned. "And thanks for having a phone next to your bed. I'm able to follow your instruction and stay under these warm covers."
"Enjoy these last few seconds of warmth, because I want you to dress in one of your new outfits and come down to the office. I've already invited my secretary out to lunch with us."
"You have a secretary?" Jaycee asked.
"My own? No. I share her, though sometimes she acts like she only works for me. Anyway, today looks like it's going to be a calamitous day for the firm and I'd like a distraction that only you can provide."
"What?" That perked her right up.
"I'll explain when you get here."
"OH!" she loudly moaned.
"You ok?" I asked, concerned.
"No, I'm sore."
"From what I wonder?" I teased.
"From you shoving large appendages up my cunt and ass! Fuck! I'm going to walk bowlegged for the rest of the week."
Well that certainly cheered me up. There's nothing like a beautiful woman pandering to a man's ego to make an imminent job loss not seem so bad.
"Alright, just bring your expertly stretched out self down here." And I gave her directions.
It was almost two hours later before I came up for air from my work and realized that Jaycee should have been here by now. I also heard a great deal of hushed giggling coming from Ms. Wilkinson's desk. That would have been unusual on most days, but especially today with the headman's axe poised to fall. I got up to investigate only to discover a gaggle of women in a compact circle. They ran the gamut from the front desk receptionist to legal secretaries (including of course Ms. Wilkinson), paralegals, and two of my fellow associates. They all surrounded Jaycee, who was spreading the collar of her blouse to show off the bite mark I'd left on the right side of her neck last night.
"Good morning, Sir," called out Jaycee. A lot of heads whipped around to look at me, with more giggles and blushes than I could stand. I heard at least three additional "Good morning, sir's" as well.
"Good morning, Jaycee." I eyed the group, deciding to bluff my way through this instead of be embarrassed. "Doing a little recruiting?"
I heard a couple gasps, and there was definitely more giggling and blushing. All except for Jaycee, who smiled at me broadly, and the shy and mousy paralegal Allison, who was looking at me like she'd just discovered God.
You'd expect at least a few people in any group to be disgusted with the admitted details of our sex life, but Jaycee had an ability to disarm even the most opinionated. She had such a zest for life that even if you vehemently disagreed with her, there was no sense in arguing since it was obvious that she was doing exactly what she wanted and enjoying every minute of it. I could just imagine some uptight busybody calling Jaycee a sinner and her responding with "Yep, and let me tell you all about it!"
I decided to pretend I wasn't coming out to check on Jaycee and instead strolled down to the break room to get a soda.
