Page 19 of At His Beck & Call

The following morning, I arrive at the office with a spring in my step. When I picked up Henry from the sitter’s house the night before, we went to McDonald's. I had a very happy boy, snuggled up on my lap, for the rest of the evening. He adores their milkshakes.

Soon, I’ll need to think seriously about his nutrition and make sure I’m feeding him the kind of food that will support his recovery, but last night we both needed a treat.

The clothes I bought only cost a couple hundred dollars, but that still felt like an extravagance. The store I’d chosen was cheap as hell, and I know I won’t measure up to the other employees in the firm. Still, I refuse to spend a lot on my own appearance. It’s not like anyone, other than Mr. Heath, will care.

Besides, I anticipate alackof clothes where he’s concerned. My stomach clenches, and I try to push away the dread that rises within me.

The pale gray suit I’m wearing fits me well, and, thankfully, the petite fit is exactly the right length. Most women would find the sleeves too short, but for me they’re perfect.

It’s just before 8 am when I arrive on the floor and walk to the desks, expecting to be the only person there. When I turn thelittle corner, I stop, surprised to find Adelaide already sitting at her desk.

She’s wearing another lilac suit, with a bright pink ruffled shirt beneath it, with horrible, blocky heels tucked under her chair.

She looks up in amazement as I come around the corner.

“Goodness,” she says, removing the purple, horn-rimmed spectacles on the end of her nose and dropping them onto her chest. “You’re early.”

“Mr. Heath mentioned I should get here by 9, but I dropped my son off early at school so I could get a handle on things.”

Adelaide’s expression doesn’t change as she rises and points to my desk. It’s already stacked with paperwork.

“Sorry to throw you in the deep end, but there’s a large conference call in two days, and we need to get everything prepped. There are two parties in the claim, and both must receive identical sets of paperwork. You’ll need to put everything in date-and-time order into the files I’ve provided, then check through them. We need to redact one of the names, as well, which is tedious work, but the client has requested hard copies.”

“No problem.”

She raises her eyebrows, pursing her lips. “How did it go yesterday?”

“Good, I think. He just told me that I need to do whatever you need me to.”

Adelaide gives a twitch of a smile. “Yes, he always says that. The last woman who came here didnotwant to be given instructions by me.”

“You won’t have any trouble there, I’m happy to do whatever you need me to,” I say earnestly and go to stand behind the desk. “Is this a divorce case?” I ask, reviewing the top email from one of the client’s legal teams.

“Yes. Mr. Heath works primarily with high-profile divorce settlements. There may be several calls today regarding the meeting, but I’d be grateful if you could transfer them to me at least for now, while you figure out what you’re doing. Let me show you the archive and introduce you to the two people back there.”

I follow her down the silent hallway to a room at the very end, where a small kitchen backs onto an archive space with a long, curved desk on one wall. Shelves of files stretch back several feet in every direction.

Adelaide introduces me to Paul and Renee, the administrators who work the archive on this floor. The hierarchy is obvious, and Renee runs the show, ordering Paul around as she works.

They chatter back and forth, sharing stories about lawyers messing up their filing systems without permission, but the message comes through loud and clear. All requests go through them, and I shouldn’t ever try to retrieve a file by myself. They joke about a few of the lawyers by name, but neither of them mentions Mr. Heath.

Once I am back at my desk, I dive into the work, finding it pleasingly calming. The emails and documents are jumbled into several piles, and I carefully place them into the relevant folders, ensuring that both copies are identical.

I like this type of work; it quiets my mind and takes me out of myself. I’m halfway through one folder when I hear Adelaide huff irritably under her breath.

“Are you going to answer that?”

I look up, startled, as I hear the persistent buzzing from my bag.

“Sorry, I thought I had it on silent,” I say, embarrassed that I hadn’t heard it, immersed in an email chain that was in the wrong order.

Grabbing my phone, my heart sinks as I see my sitter’s number on the screen. Henry’s at school until 4 pm, when she’s supposed to pick him up, but she never calls me unless there’s a problem. Ofcourse, it would be on my first day.

Rising, I walk quickly down the hall to the kitchen.

“Hi Jenna,” I say, “everything okay?”

“Hi Lissa, I’m really sorry to call. I know you’ve just started your new job today, but my mom has had a fall. I need to go to the hospital to see her. She was found by the mailman, and she’s really upset. My brothers are both out of town.”