Starting Anew
Chapter One:
On solid Ground
If
ambition were a color, it would be reflected in the aura of Galileo
Mitchell. Looking around his new corner
office, the youngest partner at Stickle, Walton and Check patted himself on the
back and laughed. Sure, he had to step
over a few burnt out colleagues to get here, but here he was.
Here...he...was.
Damn
that felt good.
Sitting
down in the leather chair, propping expensive shoes on the mahogany desk, he
let himself glory in the moment. With a single-minded focus, he had danced up
the ladder in just five years and soon, soon, he would be leaning back in the
leather chair of a corner office at Stickle, Walton, Check and Mitchell. He knew who he was and where he was
going. He felt solid. He felt good.
A
tentative knock on the door broke him from his reverie, reminding him that he
couldn’t rest on his laurels yet. He
buzzed in his new secretary with a scowl.
A young man with black hair and blue eyes entered, a smile plastered on
his pale face. Mitchell scowled in
return. The young clerk swallowed hard
at Mitchell’s look, his hand shaking ever so slightly as he put the coffee on
the desk.
Gavin
Quinn had been warned about Mitchell.
He’d heard that this attorney liked to work all night and drag his
secretary with him. He’d laughed off
the warnings from the other secretaries, telling them that the overtime would
be welcomed. Now, as he saw the man, he
was no longer so sure.
Mitchell
was clearly quite tall, probably about 6’2” with dark brown hair and sharp
green eyes that seemed almost black in the dim light. As Gavin had entered, the man had dropped his feet to the floor
and stood up slowly, probably recognizing that he was taller than Gavin by a
few inches, and well aware of how to use the height advantage. He looked down at his new secretary, and
then at the coffee on the desk, as if the two were about equal in his
estimation of their usefulness. Perhaps
the worst part was that it was only eight in the morning, but Mitchell looked
as if he’d been up for hours. Gathering
himself up, Gavin stuck his hand out, ready to introduce himself.
“Where
have you been?” Mitchell snarled, lifting the coffee to his nose and
sniffing. Before Gavin could answer,
his boss cut him off with a wave. “From
now on, be here at seven, and maybe I’ll won’t have to fire you. You get one hour at eleven for lunch, and
another hour at five for dinner. My
guess, is you’ll be out of here by nine most nights, unless I need you to stay
longer. Overtime is, of course, to be
added to your wages. Any questions?”
Gavin
shook is head. He backed up a little
from the desk, his hand dropping to his side, a little afraid of looking his
new boss in the eye all of a sudden.
“Then
type these up,” Mitchell stood and handed Gavin two folders full of documents.
“Copy these and file them,” he
continued, handing over two more folders, and a sheaf of letters, “and FedEx
these out before nine. The FedEx guy
knows to come by my office then, so be ready for him. Also, find the associates who are working with me on these
deals,” a single sheet of paper with five names on it, “and send them to
me. After that, I should have more work
for you after lunch.”
Gavin
blinked at the work in his arms, overwhelmed.
He wondered if he’d missed something.
Trying not to think to much, he nodded his head slowly, and began to
back out of the office.
“And
next time I need coffee, get me the French Roast. There is a special canister of my blend near the machine. Here,” Mitchell pulled out a large silver
Nissan thermos from beneath his desk somewhere, “just fill this up with
it. I don’t like mugs.”
Gavin
balanced the folders in the crook of his left arm, and took the thermos with
his right. Without a word, he slipped
out of the office.
With
an exasperated sigh intended to reach Gavin’s ears, Mitchell stood up, walked
to the door, and slammed it. Just
before it shut he saw his secretary opening his mouth to apologize for not
shutting it himself. Turning around, an
almost devilish smile played across Mitchell’s lips as he smoother back his
thick hair. He thought about the book
he was going to write someday about his success.
“When
staring anew,” he mentally wrote down in his head, “begin by scaring the hell
out of the permanent support staff.”
Outside
the office, Gavin leaned against the shut door and looked down at the stuff in
his arms. “Hi,” he muttered to himself,
“I’m Gavin Quinn, your new secretary. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much
about you…and damn if it ain’t all true.”
______________________________________
Gavin
just finished the letters when the FedEx guy showed up. He turned out to be a girl. She smiled at him as he handed her the
envelopes.
“So
you’re Mitchell’s new secretary?” she asked politely, making conversation.
Gavin
looked up, crease lines apparent on his forehead. “yeah,” was all he said.
“Then
I guess I’ll be seeing a lot of you. My
name is Tasha.” She leaned over his
desk in a conspiratorial manner, strands of loose blond hair falling across her
face. “I can cut you a little slack
when you need it. Your boss makes me
show up at nine, but most of this stuff won’t go out ‘til noon. If you’re not ready now, just send it down
to the mail room with Mitchell’s name on it.
I will swing by and pick it up. That’s what his last few secretaries
did.”
Gavin
smiled, and thanked her. Then, as she
turned away he cleared his throat, unable to resist asking her one more
question.
“Uh,
just out of curiosity, how many secretaries has he had?”
“Oh, you're Irish! Sweet accent,” Tasha
laughed, leaning back against the desk.
Gavin blushed a little in response, and Tasha leaned closer.
“To
answer your question, in the three years since he’s been here, eight I
think. Course, you know he lateraled in
from the law office above us, yeah?
Darent Little? Well, he was only
there two years, but I picked up his mail there too. He had at least three secretaries in that time. From what I saw, he’s a bastard to work
for.” She jumped away with a flourish,
the smile back on her face. “Good
luck!” She laughed, and skipped away.
“Thanks,”
Gavin replied watching her swing down the hall. “Wow, I’d love to be that chipper in the morning.”
_________________________________
Sarah
Black was called into Celia Montgomery’s office as soon as she arrived. Celia was a senior associate and one of the
lawyers who helped distribute work around the office. Looking up into Sarah’s expectant face, Celia began to feel even
worse than she did when she received the call from Mitchell’s new secretary
earlier. Sarah, a sixth level associate
and Celia’s equal, sat opposite her old friend and smiled.
“So,
Sarah, how’s your schedule?” Celia asked, by means of opener. Sarah leaned
back, and shrugged.
“Average,
I guess. I could add something I
suppose, but it would depend on what it is.”
“Well,
a great project came across my desk this morning. One of the partners has recently acquired a high profile client
in London who is looking to expand their business over here. It would mean a lot of prestige and some
travel. What do you think? Can I put your name down?”
Sarah’s
eyes narrowed. “Uh, hold on. You haven’t said who the partner is, or what he
expects.”
“Yes,
well, um, he told me he only needed one associate to assist him, so I guess
you’d be doing a lot of front line work.
Great practice, and good for networking. And, London, how great is that!”
Sarah’s
smile quirked, and her face registered understanding. “This partner,” she asked, pursing her lips, “he wouldn’t happen
to be a new partner, would he?”
Celia
looked down at her desk. “Possibly,” she responded.
“Oh
no, no….” Sarah shook her head, a smile of disbelief crossing her face. Celia looked up at her with a hangdog
expression, and Sarah stood, the chair rocking back with a singular fierceness,
all smiles gone.
“Damn
it, Celia, how can you even ask? You know how much I hate Mitchell! Hell,
everybody hates Mitchell. Especially after….Well, you know. I wouldn’t work with him again if he were
the only other lawyer in this office!”
“Now
Sarah, you didn’t enter this business because you thought it’d be easy…”
“Easy?
Oh come on now Celia. Why don’t you
take him on and see what its like, huh? I’d rather lock myself in a padded room
with a record player skipping on a Bee Gees song than work with him again.”
“Sarah,
please…”
“No,
Celia. No. Come on, you can’t be
serious. You’re my friend, how can you
even think….” Sarah stood in front of
Celia’s desk, her hands on her hips, looking down at the other woman with anger
and a little bit of confusion on her face.
Celia
just sat there, her thin lips pressed in a line. She hadn’t looked at Sarah through her whole tirade, and still
had trouble looking her in the eye. But
when she did look up, it was to fix Sarah with icy blue eyes powerful enough to
still her friend’s thoughts.
“I’m
sorry Sarah. I know your dislike for
him, but you have the most free schedule of any of the attorneys in the
office. And I did ask some of them
before I called you here. You’re right. Everyone dislikes him, but he is very good
at what he does, and this client asked for him specifically. And this firm needs his client. You know that we’ve been on shaky ground
lately, and this client should bring publicity and stability, not to mention a
more international clientele. Mitchell
needs an associate, and I’m asking you to please think about it. If not for the firm, then for me. Please.”
Sarah
looked skyward, no longer looking Celia in the eye. “I’m sorry” she said,
turning around a taking a couple of steps towards the door. You could almost feel the suspense radiating
from the eavesdroppers hanging outside the door. She placed her hand on the handle, and hesitated. From behind
her, Celia sighed.
“I understand,” she replied softly to Sarah’s
retreating back, her voice broken and subdued.
Sarah shut her dark brown eyes, and banged her head on the door. She berated herself for being such a
pushover to guilt trips. Thanks mom,
she thought to herself.
“Fine,”
she spoke to the doorjamb, “okay. Whatever.
But the minute he does anything, anything at all….” Her voice sounded
strained as it came from her throat.
She didn’t need to turn around to feel the tension leave the room. Celia’s voice came out with an almost bubbly
quality as she cut Sarah off.
“Oh,
of course. Thank you so much, Sarah! Listen I’ll call him right now. Can you go see him before you head back to
the office? You know what he’s like.
And, I’ll tell the seniors about this.
I’m sure this will factor extremely well into your election next year!
Really, you won’t regret this.”
“Believe
me, I’m sure I will,” Sarah replied, and left the office without looking back.
_________________________________
Gavin
was just finishing putting a signature onto some documents when he felt her
presence. A tall dark woman stood over
him, her arms crossed over her chest, animosity radiating out at him in
waves. Beautiful dark brown eyes held
him like a deer in headlights for a moment before he managed to say, “hello, may I help you?”
“I’m
Ms. Black. I’m expected.”
“Oh
yes, Black, right, the associate.”
“Senior
associate, boy. And tell him I’m coming
in.”
Gavin
bristled a bit at the “boy” remark, but came back quickly. “Oh no, no, please, let me call him first
I…” But Sarah had already turned away, striding confidently to Mitchell's door. She cranked the handle…and found it
locked. She looked back at Gavin,
surprised.
“Locked?”
she asked, her brow furrowed. Gavin
stood at his desk, his mouth a little open, and spread his hands wide. He picked up his phone and buzzed into the
office. Sarah could here Mitchell’s
voice from behind the door. Moments
later, a little buzz came from the door.
“You
can go in now,” Gavin said, quietly.
Sarah raised her head and set her shoulders. After a moment, she smiled
back at Gavin, and entered the office.
_________________________________
Mitchell
leaned back in his chair as Sarah entered, his hands behind his head and a
knowing look upon his face. It was not
an ugly face when it smiled genuinely, the features were actually quite
handsome, but to Sarah, he looked like a demon with wings fully unfurled. Even the lighting seemed to play on his
features to deepen his eyes and elongate his nose. Without thinking, she sneered as she approached his desk.
Mitchell
shook his head and “tut-tutted,” as she sat down in the hard chair in front of
him. “Now Sarah,” he said, “is that any
way to greet an old friend, especially one who is now your boss?”
Sarah
sat iron-rod straight in her chair, unwilling to give an inch. She locked him
in what she hoped was a steely gaze and responded in a quietly menacing tone.
“Why, of course not, Mitch, I am pleased that I have the opportunity to work
with you again. If you would be so kind
as to fill me in on the details, and the deadlines, I will be happy to get to work
on them straight away.”
“So
professional, Sarah. Lovely. Okay then.” Mitchell shifted up in his seat,
and shuffled some papers around on his desk.
Even though he’d only been here a few hours, Mitchell had already
subjected the office to typical lawyerly treatment. Papers covered his desk, and brown file folders had begun to pile
up in corners and along walls. He
planned to ask Gavin to come in on Saturday to help him set up his shelves,
which were now haphazardly scattered with bound volumes of past deals. Give me three hours, Mitchell mused, and
I’ll make any room look like a tornado hit it.
Nevertheless, everything had its place, and it only took a couple of
seconds before he was passing Sarah a copy of the company sheets.
“We’re
working for one of the largest startup internet business companies in England
called Blake's Tyger. They market
mainly herbs, creams, other holistic/aromatherapy medicines and information.
They are planning on expanding their business here by establishing offices and
distribution warehouses in strategic locations around the U.S. At the moment, they are hampered by the fact
that they don’t own any of their centers here, but are merely renting. They have chosen the sites, and we’re going
to work the deals for them. It’s a
fairly big project, but not impossible. Here,” he passed Sarah some more
papers, these ones including site information.
Glancing through she saw Massachusetts, Oregon, South Dakota, Northern
California, Louisiana and Arizona were highlighted.
"Strange
locations," she murmured, "No big farm states or business
centers...."
Mitchell
nodded, agreeing, “I know. Truth is,
I’m not entirely sure how they picked these places, but we are nevertheless
instructed to check out each one and ready them for final approval by the big
boss, including all contracts, tax and regulatory aspects."
“And
the big boss would be…,” Sarah flipped back to the first packet, “A woman named
Lady Faith Jowett?”
“Yes,
I’ve spoken with her only once, as part of a small deal I worked for them last
year involving the Port Authority.
Mostly I talk to the next guy down on the list, Arnold Jack, their
American correspondent.”
“Arnold
Jack, right. Heh, you know my mother
once told me never trust anyone with two first names?” Sarah looked up and
smiled, but then she remembered who she was talking to. Mitchell just sat there, looking at her, no
reaction on his face at all.
“What
his name is doesn’t matter. He will be
the one we talk to, and as our client, we will trust him implicitly.”
Sarah
rolled her eyes, “Oh come on, Mitch.
You know I was just…”
“Whatever,”
he said, cutting her off and waving his hand at her dismissively. “Well? What
do you think?”
Sarah
warned herself to be tolerant of his arrogance. She looked back down at the first packet, “What would you need me
to do?”
“The
usual,” he answered, leaning back again. “Be my front man with the client. I’ll
split the work in half with you -- you start and I finish. Pretty routine.”
“And
the timeframe?”
“Vague. Obviously, its only April now, and I doubt
they expect us to complete this before the Fall. Still, I’m planning on completion by mid summer.”
“You’re
kidding? That’s not enough….”
“Yes
it is. This is my trademark, Sarah. I’m
fast. We will get this done. You okay with that?”
“Would
it matter if I said no? I do have other clients, Mitch.”
“According
to Celia Montgomery, you’ve just finished off a bunch of work, and have the
time to spare.”
Sarah
made a mental note not to speak with Celia again for a long time, for fear of
breaking her “friend’s” nose. “That may be true, but you can’t expect me to be
neglectful of my other work so that you can better establish your trademark, as
you put it.”
“No,
but this deal will look just as good on your resume as mine. I know you’re a
good little worker, Sarah, you can do this. But if you don’t agree…”
“No,
no. A good little worker, eh Mitch? Kind of you to say,” Sarah sniffed, and
pulled the papers in close. “Where do we begin?”
___________________________________
A
few days later, Gavin was bringing in the coffee – the Nissan mug and its new
companion, a large green mug with “I hate Lawyers” on the side. He waited for the door to buzz, then
entered. He was asked to stay, so was
forced to endure a couple of minutes in uncomfortable silence. Mitchell was talking at Sarah, and she was
pretending to listen while she clearly did her own thing with her papers. Hands behind his back, Gavin stood and
watched the charade with some amusement, the first he’d had since staring this
new job.
“Got
that?” Mitchell asked Sarah, who looked up with a little smile catching the
corners of her mouth.
“Of
course. Actually, I’d already moved on to the equity investment scheme. Are you
ready for that.”
Mitchell
hid an annoyed frown by pretending to clear his throat, and looked up at Gavin.
“Certainly, Ms. Black. But first, let’s talk about the trip. Gavin, I assume
you’ve had an opportunity to meet my new associate when she first arrived?”
“No,
not formally, sir. Nice to finally meet
you, Miss Black.”
“Ms.”
Sarah corrected, and stood to shake Gavin’s hand. He noticed that she was
taller than him, something he hadn’t realized before. She was probably closing
in on 5'11" in height. She smiled,
“I understand you’re only recently with us, Mr. Quinn?”
“Yes,
ma’am. I was here as a temp for a few months, until I was offered this
permanent position with Mr. Mitchell.”
“And
before that?”
“Oh
I bounced around Boston and, now, New York, for a while before this. I came over from Northern Ireland about five
years ago.”
“Lovely
country, I’ve heard, though I’ve never seen it myself.”
“Oh
yes, ma’am, though….”
“Yes
yes, good,” Mitchell interrupted, and stood up to come round the front of the
desk. He leaned against the wood and
crossed his arms over his chest. “What we called you in here for, Gavin,
besides the coffee, is to invite you on a trip with us overseas. Our client has invited myself, Ms. Black and
any others whom I may require to meet with her in London in a few weeks, and I
would like your assistance.”
Gavin
blinked a little. He knew this was out
of the ordinary, and wasn’t sure how to respond. Before he could open his
mouth, Mitchell started talking again.
“Of
course, I realize this is not usual.
However, you are new to me and the way I work, and, quite frankly, I
like to keep those who work for me close.
It would not be convenient for me to have you here as I should need your
organizing abilities while we are abroad.
And, of course, I can easily find someone else in the office to cover
the phones while we are gone. Is there a problem?”
“Uh.
No sir, I guess not. So long as it's okay with the head secretary…”
“It
is. She’s had to agree to this sort of
thing from me on several occasions.
But, be warned, this is not a vacation, nor an excuse for you to hang
out with your relatives. We will be
working over there.”
“Yes
sir. I understand. When?”
“Three
weeks from tomorrow. Make the plans for myself and Ms. Black, today. First
class, and make sure I get the vegetarian meal.”
“Make
that two.” Sarah added.
Gavin
nodded and quickly left the room. Sarah and Mitchell began their verbal dance
again as he left. As he shut the door
and heard the lock click back into place, he reflected on the situation.
“Ho
yeah,” he thought snidely, “this is not going to be a right rollicking trip.”
___________________________________________