JENNIE
By the second seminar, I'm toast. A month ago, I spent five days in Vegas with my best friend to blow off steam, but it feels like a distant memory. My life now is five days a week of classes, seminars, lectures, and a ton of homework on the weekends.
We're focusing today on how to run a successful trial and organize dockets. It's helpful, but I'm anxious for mock trials to start next week. I'll be handed my own courtroom with my first case on day one. My dream, the one I had since college, is right in front of me.
"Hey, Jennie Girl. Are you keeping up?" Chanyeol Park is another newly appointed judge who was handed the position because he was born into a Kansas City family whose name is synonymous with politics and the law. It was pure nepotism, but I resist teasing him because I want to give him a chance. He's smart and competent.
One day I might need him for something.
I lean over and whisper, "Piece of cake. Need to copy my notes?"
He smirks. He isn't cocky, but confident. He was born and bred for this life. His grandfather, father, and mother were all lawyers.
Now his parents own a number of profitable businesses, including a construction company, an engineering company, and one that manufactures airplane parts.
A lot of people think I got my seat too quickly and didn't put my time in, but winning a ninety-million-dollar case against a massive pharmaceutical corporation catapulted me to the top of the list. Chan was the first to introduce himself, and although we aren't technically friends, we know the value of a positive relationship in this business. We talk several times a week during breaks. We don't have a lot in common other than our thirst for success and justice.
He has a wife and two small boys. How he has time to study is a mystery.
"I can't wait for next week," Chan says.
"Shh. Pay attention." He's checked out of today's lecture.
It's not exciting, but no way am I throwing away any learning opportunity. In a few weeks, I'll be reviewing cases for my district.
My term needs to be perfect so I can make a name for myself and stay in Kansas City for a long time. I'm going to be tough, but fair.
At least that's what I'm envisioning. I check the time. Only fifteen minutes left of lecture and then about two hours' worth of upcoming cases to review.
Nayeon sends me a picture of herself rolling her eyes.
N: I can't wait until you get your robes. Then maybe I'll have my friend again.
N: It's terrible. I miss everything. You, good food, my bed instead of the couch. I'll call you after class.
N: Great. I have news.
That piques my interest. I finish jotting notes and quickly pack up when we are dismissed. I live only fifteen minutes from the courthouse, but I'm three weeks away from owning a two-bedroom loft down in the garment district. Worst timing ever, but I can't stop my life. There was a mix-up in the paperwork. I was supposed to close and move into my new place last month, but everything got pushed back, and now all my life changes are happening at once. It's stressful but a great problem to have. I call Nayeon as I'm hustling out to the parking lot.
"What's your good news?" I ask.
One of my colleagues approaches, and I politely point to the phone. He holds his hands up and walks away. I'm not in the mood for small talk with people I don't know.
"Oh, look. You have time for me," Nayeon says.
"Sarcasm noted. And I'll always have time for you." I make obnoxious kissy noises on the phone until she laughs. "Come on. Tell me your news." I unlock my Audi and hiss at the heat that pours out when I open the door. "Hang on. Let me switch over to Bluetooth." I throw my briefcase into the backseat and climb inside.
The SUV still smells new, even though I bought it three months ago.
"Can you hear me?"
"You're good. Okay, so remember when I told you about Orlando?"
"Florida?" Did I agree to go to Florida for another weekend getaway and completely forget about it? And if I did, is it coming up? I really need to limit my alcohol intake when we get together.
"No. Orlando. The guy I met at that swanky restaurant in Malibu. The one who FaceTimed me in Vegas?"
"Oh, yeah. How are things with him?"
"We're going away this weekend. Like packed-bags-and-cabin-rented going away."
"Wow, that's fast." When she snorts, I cringe and quickly retract my words. "I mean, not that I'm one to talk, but I didn't think you were looking for anyone."
"I'm not. It just kind of happened. When was the last time I wanted a relationship?"
I choose not to drop Jeongyeon's name. That whole ordeal where she broke Nayeon's heart after cheating on her with Nayeon's sister was better forgotten. Her sister broke up with Jeongyeon shortly after stealing her away. Nayeon said the holidays last year were unbearable.
She and her sister never discussed it. "So, we're talking boyfriend material already? I mean, a weekend away is one thing, but the 'b' word is a whole different ballgame."
"That might be a premature thought. As much fun as Vegas was, I just need more. You have your new career to focus on, and you live so far away. I work too much and don't play enough. And most of my friends are settling down so they don't have time for me. I just want someone to spend time with."
"Just make sure you're doing it for you and not because everyone else is doing it," I say. Nayeon is pan and dates the entire spectrum. Sometimes we're interested in the same women. The woman I hooked up with in Vegas was right up her alley. Had I been paying closer attention, I would have noticed that Nayeon was ignoring a woman who was her type in favor of concentrating on her phone. She must really like Orlando. "He seemed pretty nice when he called."
"He's too nice. I'm still trying to figure out what's wrong with him," she says.
"Handsome, rich, dotes on you. Sounds horrible to me." I'm concerned because he does sound a little too perfect. "Maybe a weekend away is the best plan. You can find out if he has any flaws, and I can run a background check."
"You can do that?"
I laugh. "I never really thought of it, but I probably could. I know some cops, but I'm not sure I can get a favor this quickly. We could always hire somebody to check him out. We can't be too careful."
"Maybe we'll wait on that background check. It sounds kind of creepy, and we're better than that," she says.
"We're better than that right now, but you never know." I pull into my parking spot. "When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow. I'll drop a pin and text you his info, so if I disappear, you can find my body and know who did it."
I hear her text come through. "I hate when you talk like this."
"I hate that we even have to talk like this."
"Have fun, be safe, and call me when you get home Sunday night, or I'll send out a search party. I want to hear about everything. Yes, even the naughty parts," I say.
Nayeon laughs. "Will do. Kill it tomorrow at lecture. I can't wait to see you in your robes."
"That won't be for a while, but I'm excited to take the bench. Go, get packed."
"Have fun studying," Nayeon says.
"Have fun getting laid." I make another kiss sound and end the call. I pull up a trusted food-delivery service while taking the elevator up to my apartment and place an order, knowing full well I have at least two hours of reading and then another hour of reviewing my notes. I don't want to cook and don't have time to.
"How's life?"
My neighbor, Cassidy, a twenty-something party girl who doesn't seem to have a job is leaving her apartment dressed for a night on the town. She's wearing tall wedges and a small blue dress that hits mid-thigh. She's straightened her normally frizzy blond hair, and her makeup is thick. Clubbing is in her near future.
"Work's busy, but life's pretty good." I point to my briefcase as if she knows exactly what I do. "Looks like you're going to have some fun tonight."
"Well, Thursday is Friday eve, so I have to take advantage, right?"
She sounds like she doesn't have a care in the world. I loathe lazy trust-fund babies. I overheard her friends teasing her one night about her parents giving her a hefty allowance while she finds herself, but that was a few years ago. I guess she's still looking. I smile and wish her a good and safe night. I won't be seeing her once I move.
I open my door and kick off my heels. I love my shoe obsession, but today I'm tired, and the heels are pinching my toes. I prematurely packed a lot of my wardrobe, including sensible shoes. I'm stuck with suits, summer dresses, and a fuck ton of sexy heels. I throw my jacket on the back of the couch and head straight for the wine. After the info dump of the last ten hours, I need a quick break before I hit the books. Dinner will be here in less than ten minutes, according to my app. I slip into leggings and an oversized T-shirt and flop on the couch, pouting at the long night ahead.
Three hours later, I have notes scattered everywhere. I hope once I'm settled in my job and understand the process better, I won't stress every minute. I'm wound tight. I stand, stretch, and roll my neck for relief. I have no idea if I'm going to retain this information or if I've just wasted my entire night. I need release. The last person I hooked up with in town ended up getting engaged. That gives me a lazy idea. I open OkCupid and look through profiles of the women I'm attracted to, but most want the marriage, two point five kids, and a house with a fenced-in yard for Rover. That simply isn't me.
I want sex. That's it. I pull up Tinder and browse available women.
I spend a solid forty-five minutes swiping left. None of them are worth the risk of casual sex. I sigh and toss my phone onto the couch next to me. I'm going to be under a microscope until I retire.
I head to my bedroom and get ready for bed. Still too restless to sleep, I slip my hands under the sheet and start massaging my pussy.
Even though I'm tired, my clit jumps at the friction, and I know I need to come. I reach into my nightstand for lube and liberally coat my pussy with the warming gel. My breath hitches the harder I press, but I don't want to come this soon. I like the buildup and the drop. I climb toward my orgasm twice but don't let myself come until I'm completely exhausted. When I do, I'm loud and my body jerks with each pulse. Although I wish I had somebody here doing this to me, my orgasm is both satisfying and relaxing and the perfect way to end my stagnant night.
Tomorrow I'm taking the bench for the first time. Today is a clean-up day with Judge Martinez, my mentor, but his cases were rescheduled due to a bad case of food poisoning, so I find myself with a rare afternoon off. I have to get out. I'm spending too much time inside immersed in the law. My anxiety is getting the best of me, and I need to expel this pent-up energy.
J: I have the afternoon off. Ideas?
N: Sex. I highly recommend afternoon sex.
I can always count on Nayeon to give it to me straight. J: Are you having sex right now? Tell me yes. One of us needs to be having it.
N: No. I'm at work. What happened to your workaholic afternoon?
J: Judge M got sick. I need to get out. Suggestions?
N: My recommendation of sex stands. Get dolled up, go somewhere public, and find a hot top to take care of your needs.
She's right. I haven't gotten laid since Vegas. That feels like forever ago. Her idea has merit and would relax me before my big day.
J: I just googled events in KC. There's a great exhibit at the Nelson. Try that. And if that doesn't work, go to the other museum.
N: The modern-art one. You're sure to find somebody who's up for a good time. Nobody goes to a museum to look at art.
I send her a laughing emoji. J: I'll keep you posted.
Nayeon attended law school with me at UMKC. We spent a lot of time studying at the Nelson Atkins Museum of Art a few blocks from campus. Nayeon tagged along because we didn't have to be quiet like we did at the library. Giant traveling exhibitions make their way to the Nelson during their coast-to-coast travels, and I enjoy seeing them when I have the time. Lately, that hasn't been my luck.
Even if I don't find anybody, I can still go appreciate the art on display. I look through my closet and find a dress that I've worn only a handful of times. It's scarlet and sexy as fuck. A bit much for an afternoon at the museum, but it's a special day. I slip it on and run my hands up and down the smooth sateen material. It shows off my breasts and flares out a bit at the waist, accentuating my curvy hips.
I feel like a pinup girl. I style my hair with soft waves and pull up one side with a Victorian hair comb that my grandmother gave me when I was a little girl. I find my Prohibited Rouge lipstick, smooth it over my lips, and wipe a tiny bit from the corner of my mouth. I love lipstick. I dab my lips together until it's even and thicken my mascara. I slip on my red heels, grab a clutch, and head out.
