The Bar Ch 01

Note: It was a bit of a struggle deciding which category to put this story into, strictly speaking at the moment its non-erotic in the sense there isn't any sex in this chapter (sorry!) but i decided Romance because there isn't a Legal Drama category!

This is an idea I've been toying with a lot lately and I've decided to post the first chapter online to see what you guys think! Enjoy!

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I looked up from the computer screen and rubbed my eyes, I was finding it hard to read the words on the screen, a task only complicated by the heavy legal vocabulary and syntax. 'Coffee, that's what I need,' I glanced at my watch and was surprised to find it half three. No wonder I was weary I'd been at this for four hours without a break.

I got up from my swivel chair and with an audible groan stretched my back, wincing at the sound of my vertebra cracking. I really needed to remember to make another appointment with the masseuse.

"Coffee?" Gwen asked, looking up at me from her adjacent cubicle.

"Yeah, need a kick to get me through this,"

"Yeah what's the case?"

"Just breach of contract stuff, got to find some way that we can get rid of the contractor without paying him massive loss of profits, so I get to read through a dozen letters of intent, a five hundred page contract and about a thousand email correspondences to try and find one get out clause,"

"Eurgh, see why I hate contract stuff? Well if anybody can find it you can," She smiled and I couldn't help but melt slightly at the way her blonde curls framed her large green eyes and full red lips.

"Cheers, but I'd still take contracts over tax law any day," It was true, I'm a wiz at contracts and have made a small name for myself in the firm for being able to pick up on tiny details which could make or break the entire case. Gwen, on the other hand, was a genius at all things financial.

"It's not my fault numbers just make sense to me,"

"You should have been an accountant, you could have made a fortune on the sly," I couldn't help but let a yawn escape my lips. It'd been a long week and it was likely to be a long evening, "Fancy a coffee?"

"Thanks, and alas what could have been in another life." Gwen returned to her own desk as I shuffled off to the small kitchenette attached to the fondly nicknamed 'bullpen' for associate use. Kitchenette was a joke really, it was a four square meter room with a solitary window set high in the upper wall. 'Probably so we can't jump out of it,' I laughed to myself as I went about the laborious task of making two coffees.

"You, make a third?" I had a retort on my tongue ready to snap off but thankfully I'd turned around before letting my tongue run wild. I wasn't sure who the woman was who had ordered a third beverage but she most definitely was not an associate. For one she was about thirty-three, not old by any means but still far older than the youngest associate still in the bullpen, secondly I knew every single first year associate the firm hired and I had never seen this woman before.

"Certainly," I turned back to the machine and grabbed a third mug from the small pyramid the associates built on the draining rack next to the sink.

"Oh make it a disposable one would you?"

"Sure," I was puzzled by this entire encounter. Why would this woman come to the associate break room and why would she want a take-away coffee when there was a perfectly decent coffee cart just outside the offices.

"There you are," the strange brunette greeted a third member to this small party.

"Yeah," an insolent reply.

"Oh Jesus Christ!" I nearly spilt the coffee he was hastily making at the sudden outburst, "Why the fuck can't you get it into your head how important this is?"

"Chill out,"

"I will most certainly not chill-the fuck out!" I was steadily pouring the three cups of coffee and really trying hard to appear part of the scenery by this point.

"Hey listen, I pay you remem..."

"No, your Daddy pays me large amounts of money to get you off and you aren't making my life any easier. You, give me your jacket." It took a couple of seconds before realizing that the strange brunette with clear anger issues had changed her attention to me.

"Sorry?" as i turned around i got my first glance at the third member of this very awkward conversation. I could tell instantly why the lady was so angry; the newcomer had brown disheveled hair which stuck out at all angles, deep bags beneath his eyes, a white and brown striped formal shirt which had clearly not seen an iron in several washes and a pair of crumpled black trousers.

"You, jacket and tie. Now," the brunette rounded on me again, her gaze burning deep into my own.

"You want my jacket and tie?"

"Yes, I, a junior partner, would like you, the first year associate, to take off your jacket and tie and give it to me."

"Oh right," I mumbled awkwardly, shrugging out of the jacket and passing it over to the poorly dressed man squeezed in the small space.

"Where are you from? England?"

"Hampshire," I answered, removing the tie clip that fastened the tie to my white oxford shirt.

"Wait a sec," the stranger instructed and I paused in loosening the knot around my kneck.

"Yes you might just do," she then turned to the third man in the room and instructed him to give back my jacket, which he did with a shrug and look of complete insolence.

"Get dressed and follow me," with that she turned on her heel and opened the small door that separated the kitchenette from the bull pen and ushered the third man from the room, "Oh and grab that coffee, I think Jackson will be needing it."

I stood there, mouth agape, and trying to put two and two together.

"Come on," I was reprimanded by the stern woman and mentally kicked myself, half running out of the small room, still struggling into my jacket, to catch up with my new companions.

I caught up to the apparent Jackson and his escort just as Jackson was struggling into Miller's jacket and tie. Miller was another first year associate and always struck me as a bit dim, he was still standing there trying to wonder why he was now in just his shirt sleeves with a naked collar as I rushed passed him.

Miller shot me a quizzical look and I managed to shrug and pull a confused face before I was off and practically running to the elevator, I slipped in just as the doors were closing and stood panting next to the brunette and Jackson.

"What's your name," she asked, turning her stern gaze on me.

"Mark Roberts, miss?"

"Hmm, oh. You don't know me?" She seemed surprised by this and it was the first time she'd dropped the stern persona since I'd run into her.

"Um, sorry,"

"Right, well I'm Jenifer Alswel," she extended a hand and I clasped it warmly.

"And I'm Jackson, the client," the third occupant of the lift, apparently Jackson, piped up.

I was settled in the back of a yellow cab winding its way through traffic the fifteen blocks to the court house wondering just how I'd managed to get myself into this situation. Jenifer was upfront flicking through a sheaf of papers she'd unearthed from a black leather attaché and Jackson was sulkily staring out the window, pointedly not making communication with any of us. I felt my left breast pocket buzz and slipped my hand into my jacket to fish out the black iPhone nestled there.

FROM: Gwenivere Talstoy

SUBJECT: Coffee

MESSAGE: You discover Narnia or something?

FROM: Mark Roberts

SUBJET: Re Coffee

MESSAGE: Aslan says hello. You ever heard of Jenifer Aslwel?

FROM: Gwenivere Talstoy

SUBJECT: Re Coffee

MESSAGE: Yeah junior partner. Office on the 53rd floor. Specialization Criminal Defense. Why? and seriously: WHERE'S MY COFFEE!

FROM: Mark Roberts

SUBJECT: Re Coffee

MESSAGE: Cause I'm in a cab with her on my way to court...

I hit send and stowed the phone in my pocket just as the cab pulled up at the curb of the downtown courthouse. I quickly got out as Jenifer slipped the driver a twenty and moved to open her door for her.

"Um Ms Alswel?" I asked as she thanked me and exited the cab.

"Yes?"

"Not to sound rude but, what do you want me for?"

"Hmm?" She mused allowed, studying my intensely for several seconds, "Well to be my second chair of course. You're looks and accent should hopefully make a good impression with the jury, and trust me we need all the help we can with this one." She indicated Jackson who was standing hands in pockets gazing with contempt at the court house.

"Oh right... thank you," but my gratification fell on deaf ears as she was already off, taking a bee line directly towards the courthouse. I trailed behind her and Jackson, wandering how on earth my day had taken such a strange turn of events.

The three of us pushed through the busy courtroom to the table that stood at the front. We took our seats and waited for the judge to return from recess.

"Is this your first?" Jenifer asked me in a hushed voice, barely audible over the din of the courtroom.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, trying not to bounce my knee with too much anxious energy.

"Right, well don't worry too much. You're pretty much here just to look pretty, oh and don't call me ma'am. Jenifer or Jenny will do fine."

"Oh, okay thanks Jenny. Um just wondering what's the case?"

"Aggravated Assault," Jenny responded, passing over a yellow legal pad and pen.

"Oh right," I barely had time to contemplate how my life had gone from sitting in a small cubicle doing grunt work to second chairing what appeared to be, judging by the many press in the place, a fairly large and publicized assault case.

"All rise, the honorable Judge Brown presiding" the bailiff called out and there was a clatter of as everybody took their feet. Judge Brown strolled into the courtroom, he had neatly combed silvery-grey hair, a close trimmed beard and a mammoth beer belly that was barely contained by his large flowing black robes of office. No sooner had he taken his seat then the rest of the courtroom took theirs too, a low murmur starting to spread across it, much to the annoy of the judge.

"Order!" He called out, loudly smacking the gavel once, "I said order! This courtroom will be run as orderly and smoothly as always or I shall eject the press and all you... onlookers," he spoke the last word with contempt.

"I have the greatest respect for the First Amendment but I will not hesitate to remove any individual if they make so much as a squeak from now on!"

The courtroom silenced immediately and the judged nodded in approval then spent a few minutes organizing papers on his desk. When he was apparently ready he nodded to the bailiff, who was leaning casually against the door.

"The court calls State verse Jackson," The man called out, still leaning against the wall and completely unphased by the Judge's display of temper. Jenny and Jackson took their feet, me following a couple of seconds later when I realized the prosecution was also at their feet. 'Dammit' I thought to myself, 'you know how a court is run, you've seen it dozens of times before,'

"Will Stroller for the prosecution your honour," A tall reedy man with slicked back brown hair in a pinstriped black suit called out from the other side of the room. The look, which made so many seem weasel-like and slimy, worked for the prosecution, he stood there as if he owned the room and seemed to have an air of command about him.

"Jennifer Alswell for the defense your honour," Jenny called out, her crimson hair a shocking contrast to the prosecutions but her stance no less commanding, she had an air which could so easily have come across as cocky on someone else, but instead came across as deep seated knowledge in the fact that you're the best and don't need to prove it, "Waive reading of the charges,"

"Mr. Zoller," Judge Brown turned to Jenny's, now our, client, "You understand the charges being pressed against you?"

"Yes your honor," Jackson had completely changed his manner, gone was the sulky insolent adolescent and in his place was a grown man who tried to command a similar air to Jenny or Mr. Stroller, except unlike Jenny he did come across as cocky. I didn't know the man well, okay I didn't know the man at all, but to me he gave off the presence of man who hadn't earned any of his power through hard work but rather had been spoon fed it.

"And how does the defense plea at this time?"

"Not guilty, your honor," Jenny called out from where she stood next to me.

"Alright, well then let's reconvene on the..." the Judge looked down at presumably a calendar on the desk before him, "the morning of the 23rd, two weeks from Tuesday, for opening arguments." He banged his gavel once and that was it. Jenny was on her feet and guiding Jackson out, almost forceably, by the crook of his arm.

I trailed a few steps behind, hurrying to catch up with the sudden departure. As we passed the line of press at the back there were a few comments called out to us, all of which were ignored by Jenny and Jackson, but that was nothing to the uproar and flash of cameras that greeted us as we pushed through the large double doors.

"What can you tell us so far about the case?" One journalist called out, holding up a dictaphone.

"How do you feel about going up against Mr. Stroller again?" Another called out.

"Are you worried your father's history will negatively impact your case?" A third called out. There were a dozen more that I couldn't hear but Jenny just pushed through them all, ignoring the blinding flashes and clammer of journalists.

"Idiots," Jenny muttered as we strolled down the steps of the courthouse, "The case hasn't even started we've only entered the plea, what the hell can they expect me to say?"

"Ma'am?" I asked, not sure if she wanted an opinion or just to vent.

"No that was rhetorical... and what did I tell you about calling me ma'am? Do I look fifty to you?"

"No ma- Jenny," I caught myself mid-sentence. Jenny hailed a cab and when it pulled up she popped the back door, practically pushing Jackson into it.

"Go home and for the love of god stay there," she half commanded half pleaded, "This thing doesn't start for another fortnight and the last thing I want is for you to do anything stupid that will make it any harder, okay?"

"Sure," Jackson replied, once again surly and insolent. Jenny slammed the door shut and thumped loudly twice on the roof, letting the cab pull out from the curb. I half waved at Jackson as he pulled away, but he either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Come on," Jenny sighed, "Let's get back to the firm." She hailed another cab and we both slid into the backseat this time.

"Jenny?" I asked, somewhat nervously, as she was staring out the window and I wasn't sure if she wanted to be left alone.

"Shoot," She commanded.

"Well, if that was only the preliminary hearing, why did you want me to come? The jury wasn't there and it wasn't exactly as if there were any developments that needed a second opion..."

"You're right, the jury wasn't there and even you could have handled it, but the press was there," when she saw the look of puzzlement upon my face she continued, "Okay, so if you didn't notice this is going to be a fairly largely publicized case, and while the jury wasn't there the press was. I don't want them asking in a couple of weeks why you have suddenly appeared at the table, I don't want them accusing us of putting a young attractive face at the table just to endear us with the jury."

"Oh right," I said then paused, deciding whether or not to continue, "Isn't that what we're doing though?"

"Yes," Jenny replied with a sly grin, "But I don't want them to know that's what we're doing!" She burst out into laughter which only confused me more. Here she was, a powerful, and judging by her position, undeniably good lawyer in the inner city who apparently had a sense of humor... oh and she was hot too. Did I mention that?

"Right," I laughed, joining in with her, "But what does it matter if the jury starts to ask those questions? Aren't the Jury supposed to be impartial and cut off from the press?"

"Christ you really are a virgin aren't you?" She asked, but still with a smile, "That's what a Jury is supposed to do but, let's face it, the trial may well go on for weeks, you don't think a single one of them isn't going to overhear in the court or catch one glimpse of a newspaper in that time?"

"I guess not," I responded, feeling only slightly stupid by my question, "Can I ask one more thing?"

"Sure you can," She responded, "Ask away young padawan,"

"Why did you pick me as second chair? It seemed really spur of the moment? Don't you want someone who could better serve you? One of the junior partners?"

"You're right I guess it was a bit spur of the moment, I probably should have thought about it," she stopped, her forehead crinkled in thought, "Okay, you're off the case, I should get someone with more experience."

My face fell, I knew she was right but still it was a bit of a letdown, my first real case and I had to open my big mouth.

"Got cha!" She responded, a big grin plastered all over her face, "Wow you really gotta take it easy." She punched me jovially on the shoulder before turning somber again.

"No but seriously," Her grin diminished but there was still a hint of it playing across her face, "First of all, I don't think you're an idiot, if you were you'd never been hired. Secondly, I don't play well with others, if I got one of the other junior partners on board I'd have to pretend to be nice to them."

"And you can just tell me to f off and there's nothing I can do about it?" It was out of my mouth before I realized, the second it was out I felt as if I wanted to die. 'The cab's not going that fast, I could probably jump out and survive, maybe only get run over once or twice...'.

"Ha! Exactly!" Jenny didn't seem to mind at all by my back chat, "See, you chill out a bit more an I think we'll get along fine."

I could hardly believe my luck, any other partner would likely have thrown me out of the cab shortly after firing my ass, but apparently not Jenny. I was starting to sus her out and I wasn't entirely displeased.

We spent the remainder of the cab ride making idle chit chat, she asked questions about my background: where I went to college (Yale), what brought me to the US (once again Yale), where I was living (Brooklyn), favorite movie (Casablanca), if I had a girlfriend (no) and a dozen other questions.

I, in turn, managed to get a couple of questions of my own in as well: where she went to college (Harvard), where she lives (W71st and 8th... sickening), whether or not she had a boyfriend/husband (none of my business) and another dozen questions that slowly built up my knowledge of her.

When the cab finally pulled up out the front of the office, we exited and made our way through the lobby of the large skyscraper, swiping through the security with our electronic passes. As we entered the lift I hit the 50th floor and she hit the 52nd.

"So," I asked, as the lift started to ascend, "What do I do now?"

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Oh yeah, I guess," I responded, coming to the conclusion that maybe I would be just a pretty face after all.

"Relax," She said, "Come by my office tomorrow at nine and I'll brief you on the case, we'll go over a plan of attack and I'll dump so much work on you, you'll wish you had died." The elevator dinged and the doors opened at the fiftieth floor.

"Last chance to back out," Jennifer offered, holding the door open button for me.

"Not a chance," I responded, grinning stupidly at her.

"Good," She responded letting go of the button, calling out one last piece of advice before the doors close, "My advice is to finish up all urgent work tonight, you won't have a chance to breath after tonight."