Blindfolded Innocence
Page 3
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"Yes, Broward - Mr. Broward told me that their side of the office operates a little differently then ours, and that I show steer clear of it." I mumbled the words out like a schoolgirl reciting her daily duties.
Sheila's eyes gleamed with the excitement of gossip but also with warning.
"What Mr. Broward was probably too proper to say, is that Brad is incorrigible! He stopped getting female interns three years ago because he couldn't keep his hands off of them. He is divorced, due to another one of his…relationships, and is never without some young thing on his arm. He's Italian, you know how those men are." She pronounced the word "Italian" like it was some kind of diseased animal, and waved her hand like that should explain everything. "Bottom line," she fixed her steely gaze on me, "you are exactly his type. You need to stay as far away from Brad De Luca as you can get."
Sheesh. THIS is what everyone is worried about? That I am about to become one of a senior partner's latest conquests? First off, I am as un-promiscuous as…. probably Sheila! I am a 21-year-old college student who has had a total of 2 partners. In college terms, I'm practically a saint! Second, isn't De Luca like FORTY? In his late 30s at LEAST - who in their right mind would think I would be attracted to someone that old?! I was more than a little offended by the perception of my low standards.
I met Sheila's eyes firmly and confidently. "Sheila, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Trust me."
Her return look was less confident.
CHAPTER 6
A bit awkwardly, we finished the tour, and 10 minutes later, I was in my car with the windows down and "Whatever" by Hot Chelle Rae blaring. It was hot as hell outside, but I didn't care. I needed wind filling my car and blaring music in order to get my funky mood to pass. I wanted to make an impression at my internship, but one as an intelligent hard worker. Not as the chick that everyone thinks Brad freaking De Luca is going to bang. My head was properly cleared but I was still a little bitchy when I returned to the office, Danko file in hand, along with a still steaming cup of Starbucks coffee with "light cream and Equal" in it. Starbucks, thankfully, seemed to know exactly what constituted as "light".
I gave the file to Sheila, and dropped the coffee off at Broward's desk - he was on another call, and waved distractedly to me. I went into my office and started where I had left off last night. Within three minutes, my office door banged open and Todd Appleton plopped his body into one of my open chairs. Really? Am I going to get any freaking work done today?
I looked up over my file with what I hoped was an "I'm busy, what the hell do you want?" look.
"Yes, Todd?"
"Where have YOU been all day? We have been so busy on the East Side. This one case - the wife caught her husband doing his boss's daughter! And found out that…" his voice droned on and on and I began focusing on his beautiful features as opposed to his words. I snapped myself out of my mind fart and waved my hand in front of Todd.
"Todd, can't talk - I’m busy." I gestured to all of the "work" filling my desk and office.
He glanced around. "I know, but - you have been gone all morning."
"Exactly. Hence my heavy workload. I need to get some stuff done."
"Oh." His dejected face reminded me of when I told my 4-year old babysitting job that even though he had asked Santa for a REAL baby alien, it probably wasn't going to happen.
"Sorry, Todd. I'm just buried right now in super-exciting deposition review."
"Sure, no problem. Hey - we missed you last night - you'll have to come out with us soon." He grinned that smile at me, scratched the back of his head, and then stood up, 5 feet 10 inches of classic Abercrombie & Fitch beautiful good looks.
I flashed him a smile and returned to my depositions. It was 11am. Only 10 or 11 hours to go.
---
My first two weeks passed excruciatingly slowly. Other than learning office politics, I garnered few legal skills, other than filing, typing, and deposition review - most of which I had mastered already. My only solace was thinking about the upcoming week - when Broward would be in Fort Lauderdale. I had already corned Sheila to get the scoop on office hours during that time.
"9-5 workdays", she promised me - an understanding look in her eyes. "This week been rough on you?" Her voice had taken on a motherly concern, and I wanted to hug her for showing some compassion. Everyone else in this wing seemed to work with an unending supply of energy. It wouldn't have sucked so bad if I wasn't hearing about the party life in the East Wing.
East Wing had their own set of double doors - big dark walnut and leather doors that had no windows - the only glimpses you got of inside were when someone was entering or leaving. It was like a super-exclusive club that I couldn't get in to, so my mind created impossibly extravagant fantasies about the world inside. Following closely to the instructions/threats of Broward - I stayed away from the East Wing and all of its "activities", but drooled jealously from afar.
Often, as I passed their big black doors, I'd hear loud laughter and other sounds coming from inside. On Wednesday, there had been some kind of a party - at 5:30 Smith & Wollensky waiters had started unloading trays of lobsters, steaks, and carts of large silver dishes from our elevators. They were followed with five cases of chilled champagne and sumptuous dessert trays that made my mouth water. Muted music could be heard from behind their doors, and a thumping bass. The bass only lasted about three minutes before Broward screamed some form of profanity, opened his door, and stomped his way over to the East Wing. About a minute later, the music was turned down, and our floors stopped systematically vibrating. Sheila leaned backward in her chair until she could see into my office and winked at me.
The East Wing, unless they were partying, never stayed past 6pm. The North Wing, Clarke's domain, worked till about 8:30 most nights. We, the West Wingers, were the night owls. Most Broward paralegals stayed till about 9:30pm - I stayed till Broward stayed, which normally ended up being sometime between 10 and 11. It was better than manual work, but still mentally exhausting. I went straight home each night, showered, crawled into bed, and was asleep before my head hit the bed. Eat, sleep, and work had been the last two weeks of my life. I leaned my head on Sheila's shoulder and signed dramatically.
"Here, here," she said, patting my shoulder. "I promise you, you'll get used to it."
----
The first weekend of my internship, I had wallowed in bed the entire time, eating Sour Patch Kids and watching Cameron Diaz movies. Seeing as how texts and Facebook posts from my friends had started to drop off, I figured I needed to spend this weekend back in the land of the living. Friday evening, getting home at a remarkably early 8pm, I returned two weeks worth of missed calls. After begging for forgiveness and promising to do better, I cajoled my two closest friends into margaritas and mexican food at Los Amigos, a run-down, college hangout four blocks from my house. My plan was to get sloshed on margaritas, then stumble home. In retrospect, that sounds like the perfect "college girl gets snatched by a serial killer" scenario, but at 21 years old, it sounded like a perfectly good plan.
At 9:30pm, dressed in a blue sundress and Badgely Mischa heels, with my hair loose and makeup subdued, I wrestled through the line outside and made my way into the bar. My skin was paler than usual, due to my recent inability to spend any time at the pool, but I still turned a few heads coming in. I saw Olivia and Becca perched at a high top in the corner. The bar was filling up, and it took a few minutes of squeezing through people for me to get over to them.
"Hola!" I said enthusiastically, giving them both hugs before climbing onto one of the stools. They both already had ridiculously huge margarita glasses with goofy straws in front of them, and I looked around for the waiter. He came over shortly, a young Mexican with shy eyes and poor English. He took a cursory look at my ID and then disappeared to get us some queso and chips. Becca didn't wait long to start chewing me out.
"So seriously," she snapped, glancing at her imaginary watch. "It's been almost two weeks since we've seen you - Unacceptable!" She slapped her well-manicured open palm on the table to emphasize her point.
"Go easy on her Becca," Olivia chided - "she's WORKING, something you wouldn't understand!" she shot a playful smile in Becca's direction. Olivia was right - working was something Becca would probably never understand. Her wealthy parents and their generous funding pretty much guaranteed Becca an easy ride straight to whatever wealthy husband she ended up marrying. With Becca's classic good looks and intelligence, she had basically won the genetic lottery.
Olivia was more like me - from working class parents, barely surviving on student loans and part-time jobs. I was especially tight right now, due to my full-time unpaid internship. We were all prelaw students - but I was a semester ahead of them, therefore the first to undergo the intern experience.
We were on our third rounds of drinks and gossip when I felt an arm slip around my shoulders. "Hey beautiful," a voice said in my ear. I pulled back, and stared into Todd Appleton's face.
"Todd!" I said, surprised to see him out of the office. I hadn't seen much of him in the last two weeks, since I was banned from entering the East Wing. He had stopped in once or twice, but I'd always been too busy to chat.
"This seat taken?" he asked, gesturing to the other empty stool.
"Not at all!" Becca said smiling brightly. She flipped her brunette hair over her shoulder and leaned forward, flashing Todd her best megawatt smile.
I looked to Olivia for approval, and she rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smiled agreeably at me.
Todd introduced himself to both Becca and Olivia, and then slid onto the empty stool. He motioned for the waiter, and then leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table. Grabbing a handful of chips, he turned to me.
"All of the interns have been going out a few times a week - you should join us sometime," he said, biting down on a chip covered in meaty cheese.
I shot him a look. "Sure, I'll just swing by on one of my three bathroom breaks," I said dryly.
"Oh, so Julia has been ignoring you too?" Becca said, leaning forward and showing her ample, enhanced cleavage.
"Aw, I'm just kidding her," Todd said. "I know that her attorney buries her under work." He brushed the back of his hand gently down my arm, sending a shiver through me. I moved away. Not what I need right now.
Becca shot me an inquisitive glance and I sent back a "he's all yours" look. The waiter swung by, laden down with a platter of dirty glasses and plates and Todd put in a drink order.
"So," I said casually, "what's it like working for De Luca?"
Todd snorted and nodded enthusiastically. "It is awesome - the guy is an absolute animal! You should see him in the Courtroom Julia - he rips these guys to shreds!"
"The courtroom?" I interrupted him. "You've been to court?" This is bullshit! Todd gets plush hours and courtroom experience?
"Yeah!" Todd nodded, "he took me with him this Monday - it was awesome!"
Five minutes with Todd, and I was already a little sick of the word "awesome". Maybe I was just bitchy about my current situation. Either way, I tried to appear cool and offhand. "What was going on there Wednesday?"
"Wednesday?" Todd's face scrunched up, like he was concentrating hard. "SERIOUSLY!" I wanted to scream at him - "Smith & Wollensky's, lobster, music, TWO DAYS AGO, and you can't remember?!"
"Oh!" he slapped his head. "The Hatfield deal! You know the Hatfield family - like the media tycoon? Mr. Hatfield finally settled, so De Luca threw a mini-celebration for the Missus."
"THAT was a Mini-Celebration?" the words popped out before I could stop them. Todd looked at me surprised.
"Yeah well, you know - De Luca throws some big parties. We have a huge client party planned out at his house this weekend." He shrugged, like it was no big deal.
"Are you going?"
"Of course!" he snorted again. "It's going to be, like, awesome! I heard he's hiring strippers!"
W-O-W. Super Classy. De Luca seemed to live up to the reputation. I took a big sip of margarita and thanked God that I hadn't been assigned to him.
----
One more margarita later, and Todd was still hot - but now not quite as annoying. My drunken haze had turned his juvenile antics into sexy cool. I was starting to let his hands do some roaming, when Olivia pulled me aside.
"Seriously Jules, I'm going to do you a big favor and send you home."
"Whaat…? Why?" My slurred voice sounded drunk, even to me. I waved my hand in front of my face, stopping Olivia from responding. "Never mind, you're right. I'll go." I moved over and hugged Becca, gesturing over the music that I was heading out. She blew me a kiss and waved goodbye.
I hugged Olivia and Todd goodbye - him holding the hug a few seconds longer than necessary. He gave me an extra squeeze and I moved away. Olivia walked me out and offered to call a cab. I waved off her offer and pulled my heels off, starting the drunken stumble home.
CHAPTER 7
In every successful swinger relationship there must be a set of rules so that everyone knows their place, and so that no one is offended or taken advantage of. Different couples practice different rules depending on their own preferences.
CHAPTER 8
Tuesday. 10am.
The Dupont / Murray file sat harmlessly enough in the center of my desk. I walked in my office and stopped short, staring at it. I instantly knew it didn't belong; it was Red, instead of the Blue or Green folders that were used for civil litigation or corporate filings. I picked it up hesitantly and thumbed through it. Immediately I could tell it was a divorce file - Custody and Division of Assets were prominent tabs. I closed the file and tapped it on my desk, thinking. What to do….
Sheila's eyes gleamed with the excitement of gossip but also with warning.
"What Mr. Broward was probably too proper to say, is that Brad is incorrigible! He stopped getting female interns three years ago because he couldn't keep his hands off of them. He is divorced, due to another one of his…relationships, and is never without some young thing on his arm. He's Italian, you know how those men are." She pronounced the word "Italian" like it was some kind of diseased animal, and waved her hand like that should explain everything. "Bottom line," she fixed her steely gaze on me, "you are exactly his type. You need to stay as far away from Brad De Luca as you can get."
Sheesh. THIS is what everyone is worried about? That I am about to become one of a senior partner's latest conquests? First off, I am as un-promiscuous as…. probably Sheila! I am a 21-year-old college student who has had a total of 2 partners. In college terms, I'm practically a saint! Second, isn't De Luca like FORTY? In his late 30s at LEAST - who in their right mind would think I would be attracted to someone that old?! I was more than a little offended by the perception of my low standards.
I met Sheila's eyes firmly and confidently. "Sheila, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Trust me."
Her return look was less confident.
CHAPTER 6
A bit awkwardly, we finished the tour, and 10 minutes later, I was in my car with the windows down and "Whatever" by Hot Chelle Rae blaring. It was hot as hell outside, but I didn't care. I needed wind filling my car and blaring music in order to get my funky mood to pass. I wanted to make an impression at my internship, but one as an intelligent hard worker. Not as the chick that everyone thinks Brad freaking De Luca is going to bang. My head was properly cleared but I was still a little bitchy when I returned to the office, Danko file in hand, along with a still steaming cup of Starbucks coffee with "light cream and Equal" in it. Starbucks, thankfully, seemed to know exactly what constituted as "light".
I gave the file to Sheila, and dropped the coffee off at Broward's desk - he was on another call, and waved distractedly to me. I went into my office and started where I had left off last night. Within three minutes, my office door banged open and Todd Appleton plopped his body into one of my open chairs. Really? Am I going to get any freaking work done today?
I looked up over my file with what I hoped was an "I'm busy, what the hell do you want?" look.
"Yes, Todd?"
"Where have YOU been all day? We have been so busy on the East Side. This one case - the wife caught her husband doing his boss's daughter! And found out that…" his voice droned on and on and I began focusing on his beautiful features as opposed to his words. I snapped myself out of my mind fart and waved my hand in front of Todd.
"Todd, can't talk - I’m busy." I gestured to all of the "work" filling my desk and office.
He glanced around. "I know, but - you have been gone all morning."
"Exactly. Hence my heavy workload. I need to get some stuff done."
"Oh." His dejected face reminded me of when I told my 4-year old babysitting job that even though he had asked Santa for a REAL baby alien, it probably wasn't going to happen.
"Sorry, Todd. I'm just buried right now in super-exciting deposition review."
"Sure, no problem. Hey - we missed you last night - you'll have to come out with us soon." He grinned that smile at me, scratched the back of his head, and then stood up, 5 feet 10 inches of classic Abercrombie & Fitch beautiful good looks.
I flashed him a smile and returned to my depositions. It was 11am. Only 10 or 11 hours to go.
---
My first two weeks passed excruciatingly slowly. Other than learning office politics, I garnered few legal skills, other than filing, typing, and deposition review - most of which I had mastered already. My only solace was thinking about the upcoming week - when Broward would be in Fort Lauderdale. I had already corned Sheila to get the scoop on office hours during that time.
"9-5 workdays", she promised me - an understanding look in her eyes. "This week been rough on you?" Her voice had taken on a motherly concern, and I wanted to hug her for showing some compassion. Everyone else in this wing seemed to work with an unending supply of energy. It wouldn't have sucked so bad if I wasn't hearing about the party life in the East Wing.
East Wing had their own set of double doors - big dark walnut and leather doors that had no windows - the only glimpses you got of inside were when someone was entering or leaving. It was like a super-exclusive club that I couldn't get in to, so my mind created impossibly extravagant fantasies about the world inside. Following closely to the instructions/threats of Broward - I stayed away from the East Wing and all of its "activities", but drooled jealously from afar.
Often, as I passed their big black doors, I'd hear loud laughter and other sounds coming from inside. On Wednesday, there had been some kind of a party - at 5:30 Smith & Wollensky waiters had started unloading trays of lobsters, steaks, and carts of large silver dishes from our elevators. They were followed with five cases of chilled champagne and sumptuous dessert trays that made my mouth water. Muted music could be heard from behind their doors, and a thumping bass. The bass only lasted about three minutes before Broward screamed some form of profanity, opened his door, and stomped his way over to the East Wing. About a minute later, the music was turned down, and our floors stopped systematically vibrating. Sheila leaned backward in her chair until she could see into my office and winked at me.
The East Wing, unless they were partying, never stayed past 6pm. The North Wing, Clarke's domain, worked till about 8:30 most nights. We, the West Wingers, were the night owls. Most Broward paralegals stayed till about 9:30pm - I stayed till Broward stayed, which normally ended up being sometime between 10 and 11. It was better than manual work, but still mentally exhausting. I went straight home each night, showered, crawled into bed, and was asleep before my head hit the bed. Eat, sleep, and work had been the last two weeks of my life. I leaned my head on Sheila's shoulder and signed dramatically.
"Here, here," she said, patting my shoulder. "I promise you, you'll get used to it."
----
The first weekend of my internship, I had wallowed in bed the entire time, eating Sour Patch Kids and watching Cameron Diaz movies. Seeing as how texts and Facebook posts from my friends had started to drop off, I figured I needed to spend this weekend back in the land of the living. Friday evening, getting home at a remarkably early 8pm, I returned two weeks worth of missed calls. After begging for forgiveness and promising to do better, I cajoled my two closest friends into margaritas and mexican food at Los Amigos, a run-down, college hangout four blocks from my house. My plan was to get sloshed on margaritas, then stumble home. In retrospect, that sounds like the perfect "college girl gets snatched by a serial killer" scenario, but at 21 years old, it sounded like a perfectly good plan.
At 9:30pm, dressed in a blue sundress and Badgely Mischa heels, with my hair loose and makeup subdued, I wrestled through the line outside and made my way into the bar. My skin was paler than usual, due to my recent inability to spend any time at the pool, but I still turned a few heads coming in. I saw Olivia and Becca perched at a high top in the corner. The bar was filling up, and it took a few minutes of squeezing through people for me to get over to them.
"Hola!" I said enthusiastically, giving them both hugs before climbing onto one of the stools. They both already had ridiculously huge margarita glasses with goofy straws in front of them, and I looked around for the waiter. He came over shortly, a young Mexican with shy eyes and poor English. He took a cursory look at my ID and then disappeared to get us some queso and chips. Becca didn't wait long to start chewing me out.
"So seriously," she snapped, glancing at her imaginary watch. "It's been almost two weeks since we've seen you - Unacceptable!" She slapped her well-manicured open palm on the table to emphasize her point.
"Go easy on her Becca," Olivia chided - "she's WORKING, something you wouldn't understand!" she shot a playful smile in Becca's direction. Olivia was right - working was something Becca would probably never understand. Her wealthy parents and their generous funding pretty much guaranteed Becca an easy ride straight to whatever wealthy husband she ended up marrying. With Becca's classic good looks and intelligence, she had basically won the genetic lottery.
Olivia was more like me - from working class parents, barely surviving on student loans and part-time jobs. I was especially tight right now, due to my full-time unpaid internship. We were all prelaw students - but I was a semester ahead of them, therefore the first to undergo the intern experience.
We were on our third rounds of drinks and gossip when I felt an arm slip around my shoulders. "Hey beautiful," a voice said in my ear. I pulled back, and stared into Todd Appleton's face.
"Todd!" I said, surprised to see him out of the office. I hadn't seen much of him in the last two weeks, since I was banned from entering the East Wing. He had stopped in once or twice, but I'd always been too busy to chat.
"This seat taken?" he asked, gesturing to the other empty stool.
"Not at all!" Becca said smiling brightly. She flipped her brunette hair over her shoulder and leaned forward, flashing Todd her best megawatt smile.
I looked to Olivia for approval, and she rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smiled agreeably at me.
Todd introduced himself to both Becca and Olivia, and then slid onto the empty stool. He motioned for the waiter, and then leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table. Grabbing a handful of chips, he turned to me.
"All of the interns have been going out a few times a week - you should join us sometime," he said, biting down on a chip covered in meaty cheese.
I shot him a look. "Sure, I'll just swing by on one of my three bathroom breaks," I said dryly.
"Oh, so Julia has been ignoring you too?" Becca said, leaning forward and showing her ample, enhanced cleavage.
"Aw, I'm just kidding her," Todd said. "I know that her attorney buries her under work." He brushed the back of his hand gently down my arm, sending a shiver through me. I moved away. Not what I need right now.
Becca shot me an inquisitive glance and I sent back a "he's all yours" look. The waiter swung by, laden down with a platter of dirty glasses and plates and Todd put in a drink order.
"So," I said casually, "what's it like working for De Luca?"
Todd snorted and nodded enthusiastically. "It is awesome - the guy is an absolute animal! You should see him in the Courtroom Julia - he rips these guys to shreds!"
"The courtroom?" I interrupted him. "You've been to court?" This is bullshit! Todd gets plush hours and courtroom experience?
"Yeah!" Todd nodded, "he took me with him this Monday - it was awesome!"
Five minutes with Todd, and I was already a little sick of the word "awesome". Maybe I was just bitchy about my current situation. Either way, I tried to appear cool and offhand. "What was going on there Wednesday?"
"Wednesday?" Todd's face scrunched up, like he was concentrating hard. "SERIOUSLY!" I wanted to scream at him - "Smith & Wollensky's, lobster, music, TWO DAYS AGO, and you can't remember?!"
"Oh!" he slapped his head. "The Hatfield deal! You know the Hatfield family - like the media tycoon? Mr. Hatfield finally settled, so De Luca threw a mini-celebration for the Missus."
"THAT was a Mini-Celebration?" the words popped out before I could stop them. Todd looked at me surprised.
"Yeah well, you know - De Luca throws some big parties. We have a huge client party planned out at his house this weekend." He shrugged, like it was no big deal.
"Are you going?"
"Of course!" he snorted again. "It's going to be, like, awesome! I heard he's hiring strippers!"
W-O-W. Super Classy. De Luca seemed to live up to the reputation. I took a big sip of margarita and thanked God that I hadn't been assigned to him.
----
One more margarita later, and Todd was still hot - but now not quite as annoying. My drunken haze had turned his juvenile antics into sexy cool. I was starting to let his hands do some roaming, when Olivia pulled me aside.
"Seriously Jules, I'm going to do you a big favor and send you home."
"Whaat…? Why?" My slurred voice sounded drunk, even to me. I waved my hand in front of my face, stopping Olivia from responding. "Never mind, you're right. I'll go." I moved over and hugged Becca, gesturing over the music that I was heading out. She blew me a kiss and waved goodbye.
I hugged Olivia and Todd goodbye - him holding the hug a few seconds longer than necessary. He gave me an extra squeeze and I moved away. Olivia walked me out and offered to call a cab. I waved off her offer and pulled my heels off, starting the drunken stumble home.
CHAPTER 7
In every successful swinger relationship there must be a set of rules so that everyone knows their place, and so that no one is offended or taken advantage of. Different couples practice different rules depending on their own preferences.
CHAPTER 8
Tuesday. 10am.
The Dupont / Murray file sat harmlessly enough in the center of my desk. I walked in my office and stopped short, staring at it. I instantly knew it didn't belong; it was Red, instead of the Blue or Green folders that were used for civil litigation or corporate filings. I picked it up hesitantly and thumbed through it. Immediately I could tell it was a divorce file - Custody and Division of Assets were prominent tabs. I closed the file and tapped it on my desk, thinking. What to do….
