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“Good morning, Damien.” My long-term partner and only friend, Andrew Hamilton, greeted me with two cups of coffee. “You’re late.”
“I was in a fender bender, Captain Obvious.” I reached for one of the cups, but he didn’t give it to me.
“Which car?”
“The McLaren.”
“How bad is the damage?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I reached for a coffee again. “One of those coffees isn’t for me?”
He took a sip from each one as we walked to his office, answering that question.
“That’s why you don’t have any friends,” I said.
He laughed and set them on his desk. “I’ve split today’s interviews in half, and then I left a few for us to do together.”
“Remind me why Human Resources can’t do this?”
“Because they’re tired of us firing every person they recommend within a week,” he said. “One of these interviewsshould be a breeze for you, though. You wrote him one hell of a recommendation letter.”
“Come again?”
He picked up a sheet of paper and cleared his throat. “This candidate is highly engaging with a passion for the law that is one of a kind, with the most impressive mind I’ve ever taught at Harvard.”
“Is this an early April Fool’s joke?”
“If you don’t take a chance,” he continued reading, “it’ll be the biggest mistake you’ve ever made. Also…”
I shook my head as he continued to read, confused as ever. I’d only taught online classes at Harvard, and I’dneverwritten a recommendation letter, let alone been compelled to do so.
I read most of my students' essays in awe that they’d been accepted into the university, and I handed out C’s and D’s like candy.
“You also gave this student an A.”
“Okay.” I was done with this joke. “I’ve never given anyone an A, Andrew. They probably copied and pasted my name by mistake on a letter meant for someone else. So, he clearly didn’t do his due diligence and we can cancel his interview.”
“It’s a ‘she.’”
“It’s a fraud,” I said. “Now that I think about it, my back is starting to hurt from the fender bender. I may need to take the day off and see a doctor.”
“I dare you.”
“What the hell is going on in here?” Jessica stepped into the room. “We’re already an hour and a half behind. Which one of you is handling the first interview?”
“He is,” we spoke in unison.
“Seriously?” She crossed her arms. “Do you both hate interviews this much?”
Our silence was the answer.
“Fine.” She pulled out a quarter. “I’ll flip a coin.”
CROSS-EXAMINATION (N.)
THE OPPORTUNITY FOR THE ATTORNEY (OR AN UNREPRESENTED PARTY) TO ASK QUESTIONS IN COURT OF A WITNESS WHO HAS TESTIFIED IN A TRIAL ON BEHALF OF THE OPPOSING PARTY
ELIZABETH
