KEPT_ A Second Chance Fairy Tale(15)

First thing this morning, Corbin asked me to come into his office. He had me jotting notes and helping to brainstorm ideas he had for a client who’s decided to sue his next-door neighbor. Apparently, their differences over a fallen tree branch have escalated beyond what’s reasonable, and they’re headed to court tomorrow.

Corbin found the entire case amusing, whereas I found it absurd.

“Where’s Amber?” Michael questions. This time, his eyes are in line with the empty reception desk near the front of the office.

“Lunch,” I reply. “Do you need help with something?”

“I’ll wait. Whoever gets back first, tell her to come find me,” he instructs before turning around and heading back into his office.

I think about what Lillie would do if she were here. She’d most likely grab a pen and paper, walk in his office, and demand he tell her how she could help. Then I realize I’m not her and shrink back in my seat. I’d rather be ignored than make a move to piss him off.

A few minutes later, his door opens again. Now Michael looks completely flustered.

Keeping my concentration on his calendar and noting all the bold editing marks he’s made since he left me before, I tell him, “She’s still not back.”

He doesn’t say anything, as I’m sure he’s too busy scanning the office.

“You don’t have an appointment with Mrs. Ward on Sunday morning. It’s this Friday,” I casually mention, fishing to see if this is what’s gotten him visibly stressed. “Do you want me to fix it?”

Once I finally look up, I see his hands are in his pockets. He’s wearing his glasses, staring at me with what I assume is contemplation.

“I wasn’t sure she’d gone over my calendar with you yet,” he states quietly.

My eyes move back to my computer. I shut down the program, then stand and walk in his direction. As I approach, his cranes his neck so he can keep his eyes on me.

“She did, so let me help,” I insist.

Michael stands to the side, then opens his door wider. I look around his office, remembering when I lit into him the day before.

But not without reason.

“Here.” He gestures to his laptop once he spins it around. “I hate the damn thing,” he tells me, then takes a seat behind his desk.

I move a chair closer to the desk, getting comfortable in order to fix everything he’s broken.

“I’m not sure why Lillie insists on keeping this when all I need is right here.” He points to a paper calendar sitting on his desk.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to drop an insult in regards to the program probably not loving its operator and how no one keeps a handwritten calendar, but I manage to hold it in.

“You know,” he starts, keeping his face blank. “I’ve been around you a few times now, and you always look like you have something to say.”

I hadn’t noticed what I must look like to him when he’s not judging, but I reply, “Probably because I usually do have something to say.”

“What could it possibly be, I wonder,” he returns in challenge.

I’m not sure it’s a good idea to take the bait, but my finger clicks the mouse as I answer, “Ask me and I’ll tell you.”

“Are you going to be difficult?” he questions, but not with the venom he had when as he stood in my apartment.

“Are you going to be rude?” I query, losing the attitude I had back at my apartment, as well.

Sitting up straighter and positioning his hands on the desk, I note a deep, jagged scar along the finger of his right hand. It’s faded, but clear to the eye since it contrasts so heavily against his bronzed skin.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s on your mind?” he questions.

I’d love nothing more than to flip back about what’s really on my mind. I’d tell him I’m unsure of myself around him, explaining that if he’d lighten up, we’d most likely work well together. I’d like an opportunity to get to know him as Lillie does.

I don’t think he’d appreciate any of that, though, so I answer, “You can ask me for help. It’s what you pay me for. I saw you come out looking for anyone but me. I just don’t know why.”

His answer is quick, repeating what he once told me. “I don’t like change. I look for Lillie or Amber first only because I’m used to them.”

“What if you don’t get used to me?”

I swallow hard after asking, fearing the answer waits for me in the never-ending unemployment line.

Clearing his throat, he sits back in his chair and moves off the subject entirely. “Thank you for helping with this.”

“Anytime.”

His head tilts when he watches me move the laptop and position it back in front of him.

“That’s it?” he asks, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.

“Yep,” I answer as I start to stand. “Do you need anything else?”

“Not right now.”

I turn to leave, but before I do, I hear him murmur, “Thank you.”

Mumbling to myself, if only to relieve internal tension, I say, “That must’ve hurt.”

“Smartass,” he replies before I make my way out of the room.

Jesus Christ, he misses nothing.





Lucy

“THANKS FOR THE RIDE. I feel bad about putting you out like this today.”

Using her hand and waving it between us, Lillie replies, “It’s no problem. I don’t think I could be put out today, Lucy. I’m too busy planning my first full week of retirement.”

Today is Lillie’s last day at the office. I called her thirty minutes ago after Ruby, my twelve-year-old beloved Honda, decided she was done.

“I’m sure it’s just a dead battery,” she assures as we sit at a stoplight, immersed in morning rush hour traffic.

My car not starting wasn’t the biggest heartbreak of my morning, and being that it’s only eight-thirty now, I’m sure there’s time for my day to get worse.

While I waited for Lillie to pick me up at my apartment, I checked my mailbox. I hadn’t checked it for a few days, mainly because I’d been so tired every night after coming home from work. But also because I feared what was waiting for me inside.

The letter from my mother-in-law’s attorney was upsetting, but not surprising. I hadn’t responded to the appointment with the family counselor as she had so strongly suggested, so Margret obviously decided to push.

According to the letter from her attorney, I’m supposed to appear in his office next month to sit in on a formal meeting. The memo also suggested I retain and bring my own legal counsel. After scanning the itinerary with watery eyes, I stuffed it in my purse and made every attempt not to cry, but it was useless. By the time Lillie arrived, I was wiping my tears anyway.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving me,” I breathe out with defeat. “What are we going to do without you?”

“You’ll all be fine,” she reassures. I’m not so sure I believe that, though.

I’ve learned a lot over the last two weeks. I’ve come to understand the majority of the office filing system and the most commonly used court motions and processes, as well as how both my bosses take their coffee. More than anything, I’ve come to learn that, even to me, Lillie is irreplaceable.

“Do you think he’ll ever get used to having me around?” I question, referring to Michael.

“I think he’s used to you already, Lucy. Michael needs time to adjust, that’s all. He’s not like Corbin.”

No, he’s not.

Corbin’s funny, easy to talk to, and doesn’t hesitate to pitch in and help. He stops by my desk every time he leaves his office to ensure I’m still doing okay. He takes his time to explain the things I haven’t learned, and I feel comfortable asking questions about things I don’t yet fully understand.

“Michael comes to terms with things in his own time and in his own way,” she adds. “But if you have patience, you’ll get to know him like I do.”

“And how is that?”

Lillie turns the car in the direction of the office and sighs. “He’s a man who doesn’t trust easily. It takes a person time to get into that head of his.”

“He ignores me. How am I supposed to be helping him if he won’t talk to me?”

If Lillie’s around, I’m invisible. If Amber’s available, I’m in the way. The last time he asked for help was the day we sat across from each other in uncomfortable conversation. I thought maybe he believed I was there to help, only to be insulted later by the realization that he was still shutting me out.

Lillie laughs. “Oh, Lucy. You’re imagining that,” she accuses. “He doesn’t ignore you. I think he’s more afraid of you than anything else.”

“Afraid of me?”

“Yes. Whether he chooses to admit it or not, you’ve changed him already. I’ve watched it happen with my own two eyes.”

Clearly, Lillie needs a stronger optic prescription.

“How’s he changed?”

Lillie laughs to herself. “He has, my dear. Trust me. You just don’t see it, but Corbin and I do.”

“What time is the party?” I question, fishing for a subject change.

“Right after the office closes. We’ll keep the big conference room door shut until the last client leaves.”