I always get to our staff meetings late, and today is just another one of those days where I straggle in twenty minutes past eight AM and get to my seat. I'm usually prompt when it comes down to everything else, but it just so happens that the partners at our law firm are particularly late to these meetings themselves. I, nor the other lawyers at our firm, have any issues with their tardiness, it's just something that we all have accepted.
I guess...part of that acceptance stems from the fact that our partners aren't traditional looking; at my previous firm, all the lawyers were stuffy-looking men in their forties on up, but our partners are...
Our partners are both women, and no they're not the kind of women you expect to run a well-oiled machine like our firm: they're not in their forties, they're not divorced or married, and they're not unattractive in the slightest. It probably sounds misogynistic of me to assume that a female lawyer has to be one of those things to be realistic, but my short amount of time in the field has shown me the same variation of women up until I came across our partners.
It finally comes time for them to walk into the office, and as always, it's over thirty minutes past eight when they do.
But, seeing them takes all the bite out of anyone's disposition...because they're fucking gorgeous.
They're gorgeous, there's just no lighter way of putting it.
Alessia Michaelson is the founding partner: an assertive blonde who I know is only thirty-two based on her online business profile. She graduated from Harvard Law with a close-to-perfect GPA, and that's only partially due to her photographic memory so she says. She usually sticks to wearing darker colors, and so her black, pleated miniskirt and blazer, along with her gray button-up, are an expected choice for the day.
Next to Alessia is Mila Garcia. Mila, while not as assertive upfront, has a sternness to her that everyone respects. I'll say that while I've never personally been reprimanded by either of the partners, a few of my colleagues have and they all say that Mila is usually the one to crack the whip.
Mila is a brunette with bone-straight hair, delicate (some might say 'prissy') features and coffee-colored eyes. She tends to be the busybody out of the two, so it's her who starts to hand out the report that lets us know which new cases the firm has taken on for the month.
Mila, like Alessia, is wearing a blazer and miniskirt ensemble, though it's in a shade of plum instead of black, with a white button-up.
At present, they talk amongst themselves at the head of the room, and I struggle with staring as always. They're hard not to look at, both of them have smooth legs that are miles long and neither of them ever seem to bother wearing a bra underneath their blouses. Their breasts aren't huge, but it's hard not to notice the occasional hardened nipple.
"Good morning, everyone!" Alessia breaks away from Mila to greet the rest of us. There's ten of us total, that's including our partners, and so the eight of us who are sitting echo back a 'good morning.'
"Great to see everyone, no time for chit chat though so let's just get to the cases. We're using this meeting to talk about a new case we've taken on, but winning this could mean a substantial bonus for whoever we choose to hop on."
Everyone perks up at that. Although bonuses aren't common, we all know that whoever gets picked to work on a case will reap most of the benefits. Already, I can see hands itching to raise, but I keep myself from looking too eager.
Alessia takes a look around at the table again before her blue granite eyes zero in on the people across from me:
"Tom, Derek, Sachin, and Oliver, we know you all have cases you're working on already so we're just focusing on the rest of the team."
That eliminates half of the group at least. I'm not a vindictive person, but I do remember them gloating about being the heavy-hitters at the firm so this feels like divine retribution.
Among the ones who are left to choose from, there's me, the person who I'm closest to at the firm: Charleston, and two others who I speak to in passing, and occasionally give help to when they ask for it.
Still, I'm not expecting the partners to say my name even though I'm hoping for it--but by some great twist of fate, I'm the exact person that they call.
Alessia is the one to speak: "We were really thinking of you, Christopher."
Every eye turns to me, including Charleston. I feel him give my shoulder a congratulatory squeeze while everyone else murmurs some form of the same sentiment.
"Wow," I say, being sure to look Alessia in the eye, and then Mila, before I continue, "Thanks, I'd love the opportunity, honestly."
"Of course," Mila says, I've always noticed that her tone is a little huskier than Alessia's, but I don't think I've heard it sound so friendly until then. She gets up from her chair with a Manila folder in hand, which she drops in front of me. When she leaned down to drop the folder, I caught a whiff of something expensively warm and sweet-smelling, her perfume--and it lingers even after she's gone to sit down,
"That's the Katawanski file," Alessia nods toward the folder, "you can flip through it now while we brief everyone on it."
I do as she suggests and start looking through the file: it's a divorce case, which is what our firm usually handles, except this divorce is concerning a multi-billion dollar estate.
"So, our firm will be handling the Katawanski divorce. Our client is the husband, who claims that there was some infidelity with the soon-to-he-former, Mrs. Katawanski. You all can see where this is going...he doesn't want to give her any part of his estate, and she's asking for at least thirty percent of everything. We want to work in our client's best interest, so Christopher, we'll discuss negotiating techniques and schedule a meeting with the Katawanskis before the week is over."
I nod, and Alessia takes that as her cue to continue: "Christopher, review that file overnight and once you're done, come see Mila and I with any questions tomorrow. Sounds good?"
"Uh...sounds great," I reply, and the meeting continues. I'm only half-listening because now I realize that I'll be spending a lot of time with the partners until this case is over, and a divorce like this one can take months to reach a point of contention.
I can't help but to look at them with a little more focus on their features, like that'll help me normalize being around them when the time comes. I like to think that I don't have the tendencies of a teenage boy, but most men can all admit that there's always going to be some part of us that's a little teenaged when it comes down to attractive women; I feel a lot like a guy who just got asked to study with two of the hottest girls in class, or a college kid whose roommates happen to be replicas of the partners in front of me. There's a lot of nerves there, but I don't want to let those nerves trump my professionalism.
After the meeting, I go to my respective cubicle and I start to go through the file in detail. I'm just finishing up with taking notes and cross-referencing their contacts, when I notice a gap in the client's file. It could be that Alessia and Mila forgot to include a page in the file, or it could be that there wasn't anything there in the first place. I know that the only way to really find out is to approach them in their office and ask.
I'm on my way there, with the Katawanski file in-hand, when I hear something coming from one of the conference rooms.
I know from experience that our conference rooms are never in use unless there's a client actively in the building--and there's never a client actively in the building unless Alessia and Mila send an email about one. So, whoever is in one of the conference rooms...isn't supposed to be there.
