Hello, people!
Happy Saturday!

Usual housekeeping:
- Usual disclaimer applies - I still don't own any of it.
- Team Momo wouldn't exist without Midnight Cougar and Alice's White Rabbit with their red pens, or without AGoodWitch, Driving Edward, Mel, Maplestyle, and Eternally Addicted who pre-read and tell me if I'm off my rocker or not.

Keep it up with Rebecca's nicknames, we got some good ones so far! I may go and keep a running list in the Lair (my FB Group: LaMomo's Lair - just type that in the search bar to join the shenanigans).

I got some questions in reviews, and I think it might be beneficial to everyone if I summarize them here.
1. Rebecca is a composite of actual people I worked with in my 15 years in law firms. And yes, obnoxious incompetents liker manage to find jobs because they look good on paper, and know exactly WHEN and to WHOM they can show their claws, which I said last week, but bears repeating. A lot of morons can look good on paper, enough to fool someone into hiring them.
2. Most recruitment decisions in law firms for lawyers of Rebecca's seniority are made by partners, who are not necessarily well-versed into the intricacies of personnel selection. Translation: they might hire someone who may look good on paper and may look like a great "get" for the firm, but could end up being a disaster of a lawyer.
3. Rebecca is not a temp, but a senior lawyer who's one step below a partner. Her job title is "Senior Associate", which is typically the title for lawyers with a few years' experience who are one step removed from partnership. Some of these lawyers are on the partnership track, which means they might become partners IF they hit certain milestones.
4. As a consequence of (3), it takes a LOT to fire a lawyer with this seniority. This issue will come up in the story, so I'm not going into it in detail. But stick a pin in it.
5. As to the drama being "dragged out", if you've read my stories before, you'll know that I'm not that type of writer. But what I do strive for is to keep some degree of credibility and realism, so a resolution of the Rebitch problem can't be instantaneous, because it wouldn't be credible OR realistic (see points 3 and 4). Timing in fic tends to stretch out. Three chapters revolving around one character or incident may seem like a lot, but if you think about it, we're still on the same day. The last two chapters (and today's) all take place on the same day - February 14.

I think I've covered everything. Back to Bella today.

Chapter 22 - BPOV

Frustrating.

Today had been fucking frustrating so far, but the end was finally in sight. Thank goodness Jasper had agreed to stay late with me to help.

Once again, the clusterfuck originated with Rebitch. As the marketing department, we were under a strict deadline to submit a summary of our latest and landmark deals in the last year for an industry publication. It was hugely consequential. The information would be the basis for law firm rankings for the entire state and, possibly, nationwide.

Jasper and I had the file ready to go yesterday. Today it only needed someone from each department to look it over for final approval. We'd given strict instructions: only make edits in track changes, work on copies and not on the original file, and most of all, return all comments to us no later than four p.m.

At five, we were only missing contributions from one department—the litigation and bankruptcy practice. When I called Rebecca about it, she brushed me off saying she was busy. She did that twice. At the third call, where she spewed excuses sprinkled with veiled insults, I went over her head and marched into Jamie's office.

The ensuing scene could have come straight out of a slasher film, but without the fake blood. When Jamie gave her the third degree, she mumbled that she didn't have any comments because she didn't like the source materials. If she thought her contrarian shtick would gain her any brownie points with the old guy, she was dead wrong—and very close to being dead, period.

Jamie berated her again, worse than he'd done on the phone earlier in the day, and told her to get her shit together and start acting like a team player if she wanted any chance at job security.

I had no idea how her employment contract was structured, but in general, people of her seniority had to hit certain performance markers within six months, or they'd be off course for the partnership track. Those markers were a mix of soft and hard skills—knowledge, client management, billable hours, quality of work, teamwork, and relationship building inside and outside the firm. So far, Rebitch's rating on relationship building inside the firm ranked pretty much in the crapper. On its own, her toxic personality wasn't enough to get her canned, but it sure as hell helped.

After Jamie dressed her down in front of me for a good half hour—and for the second time in one working day—I went back to my office with a promise that Rebecca would send comments within fifteen minutes.

If she met that deadline, I would be working past my usual clock-out time—I already was—but still on time to make it for dinner with Edward.

Once back into our office, Jasper and I found an unexpected, unpleasant surprise. There was still no email from Rebecca, but we didn't rail against her immediately, because she still had a few minutes before Jamie's ultimatum expired.

What we found—or didn't find, rather—floored us, and nixed my hopes of getting out of the forsaken office before midnight. The main file for our deal submission was gone. Deleted from the system. We tried everything we knew to do to find it, but nada. Zilch. Niet.

The geek squad saved us, but partially. They were able to retrieve an earlier version from backup, but because ofsome other digital glitch, it was yesterday's version. All the changes we'd received today, from six out of the firm's eight departments, were gone.

We could reconstruct it, but it would take time, and we'd have to get confirmation from department heads again. Sometimes their input wasn't word for word, it was more along the lines of "emphasize this, downplay that." Jasper and I ended up doing a lot of interpretation and ghostwriting in those cases.

It was close to eight p.m. now; Jazz and I were seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Only Rebecca's comments were missing and, after one final read-through, the submission was ready to go.

We were in the middle of doing that, reading it out loud to one another in turns, while we paced the office, when Edward darkened our door.

"There you are. How's it going?" he asked. With a nod to Jasper, he approached my desk.

"The end is in sight." I sighed, cracking my neck to the side.

"Well, if that's the case, would you be amenable to being kidnapped for dinner?"

I frowned, scratching my head and glancing at Jasper. I didn't want to ditch him with such a hot potato. "We still have a bunch of balls in the air," I hedged.

"Go," Jasper interjected. "Her email just came in and it's more pointless quibbling on shit she's getting wrong anyway. I'll get Jamie's green light to quash her objections and send the submission as it is."

"But—"

"Don't even say it. You're not dumping this on me. I'm making the executive decision to take this on. We're sharing the load on this one. Go. Have dinner. Take a break from the she-devil. Tomorrow, it's back to the grind."

Jasper's thoughtfulness brought tears to my eyes, but in an effort to remain professional, I took a deep breath and willed them away. "Thank you, Jazz. I owe you one."

"No, you don't. Go." With his desk phone receiver cradled between his shoulder and ear, he dialed an extension and waved me off.

"I guess you can kidnap me now," I said, looking up to Edward smiling at me.

"Let's go, then."

We're almost done with a very frustrating day.
We'll be back with LawyerWard next Saturday.

See ya!