Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“Bite your tongue. As if I’ve asked for a lot.” I raise my eyebrows in an ‘are you sure you want to go down that road with me’ gesture. “Okay, fine. I haven’t asked since becoming a TA.”
“That’s better. Now tell me the real reason why you’re calling, daughter of mine.” We talk, sometimes once a week, sometimes twice a week. This is the third phone call she’s initiated this week, which means Mae is up to something.
“Well, if you’re looking for a paralegal on the newish side, Tessa is back home. Between you and me, the options might be good as starting out, but you know what happens to newbies.”
“They become coffee bitches, yeah, I know.” This could potentially backfire on me. Tessa may not have realized what she started left a lasting impression, one that still makes my cock rock hard. It also had me stopping shit before it even got started, knowing what it’s like to be locked down at a young age with responsibilities you might not have been prepared for even though it was worth it in the long haul. “Go ahead and tell Tessa to stop by. Mace isn’t going to mind. I’ll have her work with the others to get her feet wet, and she’ll probably bounce back and forth between all of us.”
“You’re the best, Dad. I’m not sure Tessa will actually take the bait, but I’m going to give it the ‘old college try’.” Mae uses air quotes on the last words, and I shake my head at her ridiculousness. At least she hasn’t lost her sense of humor being away from home and at such a serious college. It takes a lot of guts to move across the country, start fresh, and have zero family out there. Mae is doing it, though, and I couldn’t be prouder.
“I hear you, loud and clear. I’m getting off the phone now. Work isn’t going to finish itself, and I’m sure you have some studying to do?”
“Fine, love you, too. Eat something good for you, and lay off the Scotch.” Mae, always the worry wart when really, I’d love for her to do more of that for herself.
“Love you, and try eating a salad besides the college diet, yeah?” I respond, but she’s already waving and hanging up the phone. I get back to the contract, highlighting what I don’t like, making notes on the edges to go over with my client. As soon as the other associates get their feet up off the ground and running, they’ll be taking over the majority of the overflow, allowing not only myself but Mace as well more time to focus. I read over the last page and then call it a day. Seeing how it’s Friday and close to dark anyways, the office is completely empty. Leaving would make sense; going home to an empty house doesn’t sound appealing, though. It’s a fucking conundrum, having stayed single, not bringing another woman around my daughter as she grew up. Even when Mae was begging me to start dating, it wasn’t happening. I wasn’t fucking up our family dynamic for anyone. Now that Tessa is back, that might just throw the proverbial wrench in my plans because there’s something about her that has my guts tied in knots and has kept me celibate for the past three fucking years.
3
TESSA
I spent the weekend looking at every law firm online I could possibly find that would be looking to hire paralegals with little to no experience willing to honestly take on an intern position and get paid the bottom of the bottom if it meant getting my foot in the door. Of course, that was between unpacking the never-ending boxes and getting things situated in the right area. Not that I won’t be rearranging things as I go on until I’m completely satisfied with the result. A fact that everyone says maybe becoming a paralegal should have been my second choice and interior designing be my first. That’s all great in theory except for the fact that I’m a perfectionist, meaning nothing would be perfect enough until I finally thought it did. Which would suck for a client wanting the job done on a deadline. Now, it’s Monday, and judging from the text Mae sent me Saturday, adamantly stating to get my ass down to Ayala & Thomas Entertainment Law Group come Monday morning, no if, ands, or buts about it, Mae clearly meant business. But in this instance, the response I sent her has me second-guessing.
“I guess it’s now or never.” The white blouse I’m wearing pairs nicely with the black pencil skirt and black kitten heels. My dirty blonde hair is pulled back in a low bun; the mascara, blush, and nude lipstick tops it off. Now, all I need to do is actually get out of my car, take a few steps inside the door to King’s office, and put in an application. It can’t be worse than what I’ve done the past six places I did this at before landing here. The last place was ready to hire me on the spot. All I had to do was give them a call, and I could start the next week. It also was my last place, besides where I am right now, I had my eyes on, and that’s saying something seeing how I need to find a job this week or I’ll be waitressing until a law firm I do like takes me on. Or there’s always working at a courthouse; even though that’s unappealing. “This is what you get for being a picky shit and sleeping where you eat, so to speak,” I tell my reflection in the visor that holds a mirror once you flip the little plastic thing up. What I really should be telling myself are daily affirmations, except they’d go a bit like this: I am not going to fumble over my steps. I am not going to drool over seeing King. I am an independent woman who will not go weak in the knees. You get the gist of the conversation. Now it’s time for me to take the final steps because there’s no time like the present.