Page 31 of Dirty Judge

“That’s…tomorrow.”

“You also have to sign a binding, six-month promise.”

“A what?”

“A contract that says you will not quit this position for at least six months—no matter what happens and no matter who the boss is.”

“That sounds illegal.”

“You will be required to work at least sixty hours a week and attend any judicial proceedings that your boss deems necessary.”

“Um…Is this for the law clerk position or the legal secretary one?”

“In exchange for accepting these conditions, you’ll get paid seventy-five dollars an hour.”

“Where do I sign the promise?”

The following morning

I smoothed my blouse before walking up the courthouse steps at the crack of dawn.

Just as I’d been instructed, I signed in with security and headed straight for the grand staircase.

“Are you Miss Spencer, by chance?” A pretty brunette in a gray pantsuit smiled as I approached.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Thank you for getting here twenty minutes early,” she said. “The court truly appreciates people who show up on time.”

“Good to know.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, and I was still in disbelief about the hourly pay I’d been promised.

“Here’s your copy of the digital contract.” She handed me a stapled sheet. “Later today, Human Resources will pay you a visit for more paperwork and fingerprinting. Do you have any questions before we head to where you’ll be working?”

“Hundreds…”

“Well…” She tapped her chin. “Save them for later and follow me. Try to pay close attention, okay?”

I nodded, and she hurried off on her heels.

“You’re a law clerk, which means you’ll be responsible for handling all types of errands, and you’ll need to know this building inside and out,” she said. “I highly recommend you take the tourist tour every weekend for your first month here.”

She spoke at the speed of light—pointing out the names of every office, the security exits, the different courtrooms.

It only took me seven minutes to realize that “Do you understand what I’m saying?” wasn’t a question. It just meant we were moving on to the next stop.

I followed her onto an elevator and she hit the button for the top floor.

“The coffee room on this floor is the absolute best, and that’s a good thing because it’s the same floor where you’ll be working.”

“I thought the law clerks’ office was on the third floor.” I glanced at the notes on my phone. “You said that?—”

“That’s for the junior level law clerks,” she said. “You’re assigned to work in a judge’s chambers.”

“My contract didn’t say anything about that…” I stepped off once the doors glided open, suddenly feeling like this place looked a little too familiar. “Do I get to choose which judge I work under?”

“You’re funny.” She snorted and motioned for me to keep following her.

We rounded the corner, and the words “The Chambers of the Honorable Judge Ashton” stared me in the face.