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Taking a deep breath, I sit down behind the desk and begin to explore my new workspace. Soon I am absorbed in the work, and the hours fly by. When I finally look up, the sky is dark, and I’ve been in the office for most of the day.
Maybe this job isn’t going to be so bad after all.
4
Zane
The apartment is muted, and the curtains drawn. The silence is heavy and suffocating, like a palpable part of the atmosphere that has permeated the walls. Yet another morning for me to grieve after having another dream last night about Laura still being alive, kids running around in a backyard. Of course, when my eyes open, it didn’t take long for me to realize.
I go downstairs to make coffee, the living room as she left it. Her favorite chair still in its place, the Afghan she crocheted still draped across the arm. The books she read, the magazines she enjoyed, are all still there, undisturbed since the day she last touched them. I meander through the room, my footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. I reach out a hand and touch the chair, feeling the softness of the fabric, the warmth of the wood beneath my feet. It’s been ten years, and she is still the first thing I think of when I wake up.
I go up to the master bedroom and turn on the shower, getting ready for the long day ahead. Since she passed, I don’t use the main bedroom to sleep anymore. The guest bedroom has become my haven. Yet, here I stand in the bedroom's doorway we shared for so many years, my heart breaking all over again. Time has stood still in this room. There, on the bed, is her pillow, her nightgown still folded beside it. The nightstand still holds her favorite books and the lamp still has the same shade.
The steam from the shower comes through the bedroom, and as much as I want to stand here and remember her, it’s time to get ready for work. I’m not the type of person to be late by any means, as that doesn’t show my employees to lead by example.
I let the hot water drizzle down my body, preparing me for the exhausting day ahead of me. After work, I have dinner to go to, and Willow will most likely need to go to.
After my last assistant retired, I struggle to think about things. Her competence was astounding, often preempting my requests without any prompting. Willow, however, is new, and it takes time to get to know another person, especially someone like me, who never stands still for more than a couple of minutes.
I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel. The steam creates a hazy, tropical atmosphere in my spacious bathroom. I take a few moments to savor the moment, thinking back to my days in a cold and drafty apartment before starting at the firm. Now, I’m blessed with a luxurious home with modern appliances, and the warm steam from my shower is the perfect way to start the day.
I dry off and then froth up the toothpaste, staring into the mirror. I run a comb through my wet hair. After ten years of long hours and dedication, I have reached the top of the corporate ladder. When I open the closet, my hand brush against the luxurious fabric of my suit and I pause for a moment to appreciate it. I think of the power that comes with it, and with a smirk I slip into it, feeling the sharp cut of the suit’s shoulders and the weight of its authority settle onto me.
I head downstairs and the driver is waiting outside as I lock the door behind me. The driver pulls out onto the street. I lean back in my plush seat and press the button to lower the window and feel the fresh air on my skin. The world passes us by as we head towards the destination.
I take out my phone and check my emails, looking for any updates from work needed before I arrive. The emails filter in one after another, reminding me of all the responsibilities that await me. As we drive through town, I look out at the familiar sights, but they don’t bring a sense of joy or nostalgia like they used to. Everything reminds me of what could have been if things were different. We reach our final destination and soon enough I step out into the corporate jungle of downtown, where people are rushing around working harder than ever just to make ends meet.
It’s not long before I disappear into the crowd and am swallowed up by all the ambition that envelops me. My suit gives me an assuredness in my steps and an unwavering confidence that comes with its power as I walk through these hallways filled with those eager to impress their bosses.
As I enter the building, I take one last moment to acknowledge my journey and all that I have accomplished. I contemplate the remarkable journey I have undertaken within a limited timeframe: progressing from a mere employee striving to survive to an individual now capable of actively shaping their own destiny.
The ringing of my phone disrupts my thoughts. It’s a call from a client and we discuss the details of their case, ensuring they will get what they are paying for. After taking care of business, I arrive at my office and settle in behind my desk.
I turn on my computer and begin opening emails, replying to clients and taking care of administrative tasks as if it were any other day at work. Soon enough it’s lunchtime and instead of running out for something quick like I used to do before, I enjoy a luxurious meal with colleagues in the corporate dining room, discussing strategies and potential investments.
By the end of the day, Willow is standing outside my office, waiting for me. She is wearing a navy skirt and a white blouse covered by a navy cardigan. The skirt is too short for this type of environment, but I don’t say a word. The legal team would have a field day.
5
Willow
Zane and I enter the restaurant. The room is sprawling and opulent; walls of gold, marble and mahogany, adorned with ancient tapestries and modern sculptures. Chandeliers of Swarovski crystals cascade from the ceiling. I stepped into a fairy tale.
We follow the maître d’ to our table and take our seats. Our eyes dart around the room, taking in the finely dressed patrons. I feel a little out of place in my work attire, but Zane seems more focused. No doubt he has already taken in the details of the place and moved on to the task at hand.
The waiter comes to take our order. As Zane gives him instructions, I admire the careful precision with which the waiter handles each request.
When the waiter is gone, the reality of our situation sinks in. We are here to gain the trust of one of the most up and coming lawyers, Alexander Livell. A daunting task, even for Zane.
“It’s a lot. I’m not sure I can pull it off.”
Although I know little about his world, I can sense the pressure he is under. I try to reassure him with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
We fall into a silence. I look around, taking in the details of the room, the people, the atmosphere. How much money do these people have? It seems so unnecessary and wasteful.
“It’s a strange world,” Zane says, echoing my thoughts. “A world where money can buy anything.”
I glance at him, wondering if he is referring to the people here, or if he is talking about himself.
