I miss naming my chapters, so....
Chapter One: Fade Into What Was
There are some things that a person just never feels like doing. I, like every normal person on this God-given Earth, never feel like going to work. Of course there are some exceptions to this rule (I.E. singers, actresses, hookers.) Oh boy do the hookers enjoy their jobs. Set aside the rampant risk of contracting twenty-five currently undiscovered forms of syphilis, and the need to take a two-hour shower after you've been with a greasy, hairy, overly horny pedophile. But other than that, yeah. I'd say the hookers enjoy their jobs.
Sadly, I don't. Does anybody with half a brain ever like getting up at 5 o'clock in the morning to kiss their boss' ass? Because that's really not my cup of tea. However, I force myself into the same routine day after day, only to come home at 9 o'clock at night completely unsatisfied. I don't enjoy walking into a dark, empty house- the sound of my heels tapping against the marble floor the only sound resonating from the vicinity. I swear that sometimes I wish I had a cat. Anything to help relieve the ungodly silence would be enough for me.
But, back to my main point. Work is...well, work. It's not fun; definitely not something that would brighten up my day, but it's something that I chose to pursue, and something that I will probably wind up doing for the rest of my life. And the thought of that just makes me want to puke on that pretty marble floor I mentioned earlier.
There was a time when my world was complete. I had everything I could have ever hoped for and more. How cliché does that sound, though? It seemed as though my whole life had been one big movie. At any time, I waited for the non-existent director to shout, "Cut!" and tell me what my next line should be. Basically, my future was already mapped out for me. Nothing could go wrong, because the shell that I lived in didn't have a chance of cracking. Everything was too perfect for something to ruin it.
And then, something did.
Long workdays and not enough "quality time" with my husband caused him to turn away from me, finding himself better off in other ways that shall remain nameless. Mainly because they pain me too much to speak of. I vowed that those sorts of things would never happen to me. I would never let myself get too heavily involved in my work like my parents did-which drove them to divorce seven years earlier. Unfortunately, I let myself slip. And against my wishes, I had turned into my parents. Life plays tricks on you like that, I suppose.
It wasn't until my husband demanded separation from me that I realized what a shamble my life had become. Should I necessarily blame all of that mess on work? Yes, I should. Because it's the reason why I'm in the situation I'm in now. My never-ending need for stability and fulfillment in my field had undoubtedly caused me the unstable part of my life. Funny how it was the part that should have mattered the most to me.
The intelligent thing to do would have been to cut back on my work hours and try to patch things up with my husband. But by then, our marriage was already too dysfunctional to even attempt to revamp it. I had become too over-obsessive about work that nothing else mattered to me. After all, I was an up and coming associate. At 28, I was working for a senior partner. I was somebody with true talent that the partners at my firm recognized. They told me said information, and I ate it all up. I lived for their approval, and their opinions of me became one of the leading causes of my crumbling marriage.
So, here I am. Bright and early on a Tuesday morning...although way earlier than I would have hoped for. Sleeping in is no longer an option for me, because I work every day. I don't even take off on Sundays, which is pretty damn dedicated if you ask me. I stepped out of my newly waxed Jaguar, tugging at the invisible wrinkles in my skirt. Nothing could be out of place when I stepped foot into that building. Carefully bending over to check my hair in the rearview mirror, I cringed at the blemish that had formed over night. I'm a worrier. Stress pimples were one of the many things in life that I wished to abolish.
I frowned. This was as good as it was going to get for today. Besides, it wasn't like I was aiming to impress anybody. There was no way I'd be up for dating anytime soon, so who cares if I looked like a beast? If someone were nice enough to pay me a compliment today, well then more power to ya. However I could care less about what anybody thought. A year ago I would have, but at this present point in time, I didn't.
Walking into the huge building, I couldn't help to think that this is my life. This place is more my home than my actual house is. Maybe I should just save myself some money and move in here instead of paying the pricey mortgage bills.
"Mornin' Ms. Haley."
I looked over to my right and smiled. "Good morning, Curtis. You're here early today. I thought your shift didn't start until 11:00 on Tuesday's."
He held up his mop proudly and tapped the wooden handle on the wet tile floor. "Well, the boss said if I come early today he'd give me a bonus. Maybe I'll be able to buy Betsy that pretty necklace she's been hintin' at."
Curtis was a nice man. He was originally from down south, close to me actually. How he ended up in Seattle is beyond me. He was in his early 50's, with a heavy southern accent, and still quite the charmer. In my book, he was once of the most caring people I knew. "And how is Betsy, by the way? I assume that being a new grandmother is treating her well?"
Rolling his eyes, he set the mop down and wiped his hands on his uniform. "She's bought the baby every damn thing she can get her hands on. If she keeps going the way she is, we'll be near poor come Sunday."
"Well at least you'll know it was for a good cause." I glanced down at my watch, noticing that I was going to be late if I didn't quit with the chatting. "Back to the grind. You take care of that baby, Curtis."
"Surely will. Pretty soon she'll be in college. Then I won't have to worry about my wife buying us out of house and home."
"Not soon enough for you, though." I joked, walking into the elevator and watching the doors shut in front of me.
"Peterson needs his case to be taken care of immediately. Something about burning himself with hot coffee at the McDonald's drive thru window. How he'll win that one is beyond me. The Montrose case is closing on Thursday, thank God. If I have that woman spit on me one more time, I'm springing to buy a face shield. Time's running down for- Oh, Haley!"
I stopped quickly and turned around, seeing one of my co-workers shuffling through a pile of papers, only to throw them all to the ground. "What's up, Brice? You're not overdoing it again, are you?"
He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "I've been here since last night. Trying to find someone to take this new case. I can't do it." He looked at me slyly. "You wouldn't be interested-"
"No." I held my hand up, not even letting him finish. There was no way in hell I was taking on another case. I was already filled to the brim as it was, and another would cause intense damage on my brain. "I'm too swamped. What about Melinda? I heard she just won that case with the shoplifting grandma from Hell."
"You think Melinda would actually be kind enough to help me out?" He scoffed. "You remember what happened a little over a month ago. I fear any kind of further contact with her would prove harmful to my now fragile exterior."
I rolled my eyes. Brice was the only person I knew who could make one little situation into a big production. "God, Brice. She kneed you in the balls after you told her she should wax her moustache. It's over and done with. Get on with your life."
"Well I would if she'd stop giving me the death glare from across the room!" He said through gritted teeth, and I glanced over my shoulder to find Melinda looking as though she were going to kill something....or someone.
"You're 32, not 12. I'm sure you two can come to a logical form of an apology. Until then, good luck with that case." It came out as snide, but it served him right. Brice was an overachiever, much like myself, only 20 times worse. He was always one to bite off more than he could chew, and it never ceased to come back and bite him in the ass. I took it as my cue to walk away. Even though Brice was a very good friend of mine, he did annoy me from time to time.
"Oh, by the way. Jensen needs you in his office. Now."
I turned around and glared at him. "You were just waiting for the perfect time to tell me that, right?"
"You know I always have to get the last word in." He smirked. "Better run along. He's not in a good mood today."
"Please, Jensen's always in a good mood for me. One of the perks of being his favorite."
"One of the perks of being his favorite." He mimicked me, going back to pick up the papers that had fallen to the ground. "I'd say put in a good word for me but I don't think it'd make a difference. The man prays for my demise."
I laughed. "Now that's not entirely true. The other day he was raving about what a stellar job you did at retrieving his coffee." I went over to him and patted his head. "Good boy, Rover." The look on his face caused me to break into a fit of giggles. That was my good laugh for the day. "See you later, Brice."
After I had gotten all of my things settled in at my desk, I straightened myself out and made my way to Jensen's office. I hated going in there. Yes, I was his favorite. Yes, he liked me. But I certainly didn't like him. He was catty and stuck up. Someone I didn't really hold in high regards other than him being my boss. As just a person, he was far from someone I admired. So, I put on an act, and it always worked in my favor.
I knocked on the door, hearing his muffled voice inside the office, ruffling papers around and telling me to come in. This was the fourth time within the past two weeks that he wanted to see me. For all I knew, he was firing me. Then again, the more I thought about it, the more absurd the thought seemed.
Slowly walking into the office, I cleared my throat and clasped my hands in front of me. "You wanted to see me, Mr. Jensen?" I felt like a kid who had just gotten sent to the principal's office, even though I knew I probably wasn't in trouble of any sort.
"Yes, Haley. Please, have a seat." He motioned to a chair in front of his desk and I obliged. It wasn't until a good 60 seconds later that I noticed there was somebody in the seat next to me. I looked over to my right and my eyes widened. "Brad." My tone came off as nonchalant as I could have possibly made it. I muttered a light hello and turned my attention back to Jensen. Something screwy was going on here.
"I'm sure you're both wondering why I brought you here. I received a call earlier this morning from a very well respected client whose father I've worked with in the past. He's selling his car dealership, and would like us to help settle the business agreement. Would you two be interested?"
I blanched. Was he serious? I was known to rarely ever back out of cases assigned to me by Jensen, but this one was fixing to be thrown out the window. "Mr. Jensen, I'm not so sure about this. I-"
"I'll take it." Brad interjected, eyeing me smugly.
"Haley, I know you both have some...issues to work out. But I'm hoping that if you put aside the problems you've been having over the past few years, this could be a really great proposition for both of you." He stood up from his chair and began to pace around his office. "Now, you two are the best I have. This business deal is huge. Please, just think about it."
I hated to be in this kind of position. "I will." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Just give me a few hours to make my decision, okay?"
Jensen smiled. He knew he didn't even have to give me a few hours. My answer would be yes. It made me mad that I was so damn predictable at times. "Absolutely."
Nodding my head, I quickly walked out of the room and back to my desk. I had to do something to get my mind off of this. The whole situation was suffocating me already.
"You should have just told him yes. You know that's going to be your answer."
I looked up and groaned. Today was not my day. "What do you want, Brad? You ignore me here every day and now it just seems like I can't get rid of you."
"Funny, I thought it was the other way around."
Remarks like that were definitely part of the reason why things never worked out between us. "Cut the s hit, alright? Yes, I'm taking the case. But trust me, I was so close to turning it down because of the mere threat of your constant presence."
"Aw come on now, Haley Parker. Is that any way to talk to me?" He smiled widely. Why the hell was everyone smiling today? It made me want to slap them all across the face.
"Yes, it is. And FYI, you should start getting used to calling me by my maiden name again. I'm sure it wouldn't pain you in the least bit."
"Well, you having my last name and still technically being married to me does put a damper on my girlfriend's attitude every now and then."
No, he wasn't always like this. He used to be the sweetest man I've ever met. We had our quarrels, ruled out our differences, and things just went downhill from there. He eventually took a new job at my firm and began an instant competition between us. We've been at each other's throats since.
"Oh, and how is the slut? What's her name again? Cookie, Caramel, Muffin..."
"Candy." He narrowed his eyes at me and crossed his arms over his chest. "And she's not a slut."
"Yet she's only ten years younger than you are." I nodded disapprovingly, and then put on a sarcastic smile. Hey, if everyone else can smile today, then I can too. "At least she's legal, unlike the last one."
He looked around and leaned close to my face, whispering as lightly as he could. "Cut it out, Haley. That was a mistake. She told me she was 21!"
"Whatever you say." I shrugged, looking through a stack of papers for my driver's license that I had lost the previous day.
"Here." He said, handing me the small piece of plastic. "You dropped it when you came to pick up the rest of your stuff yesterday."
I took it warily, wondering how he knew I was looking for it. The fact that I was predictable once again popped into my mind and I bit the inside of my cheek. "Thanks."
"Yeah." Brad looked down at my desk and shuffled his feet. "Well, better get packing tonight. Our plane leaves tomorrow morning at 10:00."
My cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink as I stood up from my seat. "What! How on Earth do you expect me to fly to wherever the hell we're going with only a day's notice? Not to mention I didn't even get a chance to look over the paperwork or-"
"Leave that all to me."
"Bradley, I don't even know the basis of this business deal. Why didn't anybody tell me about this sooner!"
"Because." He replied, "Jensen knew if you had time, you wouldn't go. You'd just find somebody else to fill in for you. Now you can't back out." I laughed at how ludicrous this whole idea was. "I'll fill you in on the plane. Don't be late."
He walked away and I sunk back into my chair. How did I always manage to get myself into these messes?
