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I threw on my suit and heard the clink of my laptop bag and briefcase as I picked them up. Mr. Longford had so many clients. If I wanted to be up to speed before he left, I would have to study the files right away and take advantage of the quiet moments between clients and conversations. Already I could feel the next few hours slipping away as I headed out into the hallway.
The city was bustling with people and cars, adding to the wild symphony. Every corner boasts brightly lit establishments with unique aromas escaping from their doors. My mother had always been a small town woman, never daring far from Amesbury. I walked down the cement path, my long gray jacket billowing behind me as I navigated through the crowds. The chill in the air pinched at my nose, but my matching suit kept me warm.
As I reached the two-block distance to Coffee Chaos, my excitement bubbled up. The sweet smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I stepped in, and I noticed someone had placed a vase of singing sunflowers on each table. I joined the line of eager customers, musing over what I would choose. The cafe was an inviting blend of modern and rustic with a long counter with chrome espresso and frothing machines, bottles of coffee flavorings and toppings, and towers of paper cups and lids. A glass case held a selection of breakfast muffins and scones, but I was not a breakfast person. They spread bistro tables with trendy wrought-iron chairs over the cafe.
When it was finally my turn, I ordered my go-to flat white espresso with micro-foamed milk and a mocha topped with extra shots of espresso and a generous dollop of whipped cream.
The woman behind the counter’s eyebrow lifted. “It comes with two shots, so you want an additional two? It wouldn’t be for Jennifer Jenkins, would it?”
I curved my lips into a satisfied smile and gave a slight nod. “Yes, that’s right. She’s my new assistant.”
After paying, I stepped back and waited for my coffee. People occupied all the tables, typing away on laptops and cocooned in their own bubble of music or podcasts. A few have notebooks open and scribbling away at the pages with fervor. Towards the other end where you picked up your order, there were a few comfy leather chairs around a small coffee table with stray newspapers and magazines. How could they possibly stay so focused with the chaotic bustle of the cafe all around?
The room was overwhelming to me, but that was most likely because I hadn’t adjusted to the big city yet. The coffee grinder was going, employees calling out names, the ding of the cash register. All together practically made my head throb. As she called my name, I stepped to the counter, the scent of freshly roasted beans filled my nose. The barista was wearing a bright smile, passing me two steaming cups. I took them and thank her, feeling the warmth on my fingers. Stepping back out onto the street, I took a deep breath and took a sip from my cup. The taste of the coffee sent a warm feeling through my body, and I was ready to continue on to the firm.
I stepped into the Weston, Crawford and Curran firm and instantly taken back by the grandeur of the building. The architect must have had a field day creating this masterpiece. Someone meticulously crafted every detail to create an atmosphere of luxury and sophistication. The walls were a deep navy blue, and golden accents adorned the baseboards and door frames. The floors were a gleaming marble that seemed to sparkle in the light, and the furniture was a mix of modern and traditional pieces, all of which were of the highest quality.
The elevator dinged, and I stepped inside, expecting to be alone, but there was a voice coming toward me. It was Mr. Longford, the senior partner. He stepped in and asked me how my morning was going, and the smile that lit up his face when he saw the second cup of coffee in my hand was one I would remember for a long time.
“You know, if you bring her coffee every morning, you are gonna move mountains. That girl is obsessed with it. Sometimes she has five cups.”
Mr. Longford told me about her love for coffee from that local cafe, but since it was so expensive, she only had one cup a week. The rest of the time, it forced her to drink the breakroom’s disgusting filth. I agreed, it’s nothing compared to the brews at Coffee Chaos.
Mr. Longford and I got off the elevator on the eighth floor and he went straight to his office, offering me a smile over his shoulder, as I stopped right in front of Jennifer’s desk. My eyes took in the royal blue pencil skirt and the black blouse she was wearing, and the way the bob haircut hit right under her chin. She didn’t even notice me for a moment, too busy looking through some paperwork on her desk, but when her eyes met mine, she had the sweetest smile.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said as I handed her the cup.
“I was serious about bringing you a cup. Even braved the barista for the two extra shots of espresso and she knew who you were by the order.” This was more than just a cup of coffee. This was a gesture of appreciation, a token of connection with a colleague. After everything we would go through for the next year together, it was the least I can do.
She laughed, took a sip, and rolled her eyes into the back of her head. “It’s so good.”
I smiled, my hand slid over my chin before walking into my future office. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Mr. Longford’s office was a sleek and stylish workspace. It was soon to be mine. The walls were a crisp white, and the furniture was a mix of modern and retro, from the mid-century credenza to the oversized tufted leather chair. The room filled with light from the floor-to-ceiling windows, making the sleek chrome accents and the black and blue accents around the room pop. They arranged his desk in the center of the room, covered in papers, folders and manila envelopes. There were a few books on the shelves, some framed photos of his family, and a large monitor sitting atop a tower of electronics.
Directly across from his desk was a corner of the room that held two armchairs and a coffee table. The chairs were a deep blue and the table a chrome, and the perfect place for us to talk. I took a seat in the armchair and he took the other, the two of us facing each other.
“So, I’d like to know a little more about the guy who is taking over for me. My clients aren’t needy, and I have been working with most of them for years. Some of them are older than me. Taking over for me, you will be in a good place. Most of the new partners get stuck taking the cases no one else wants, but you’ll be busy with my workload, so I doubt they will assign you many extra ones.”
Hard work wasn’t anything new to me, so if they needed to give me more cases, I’ll handle it. I was in a new city where I didn’t know anyone and that means I’d have no life. No reason to make friends if I might move back to Texas in a year. Although, even in these two days, New York City was growing on me already.
He nodded. “Next time, you can pick me up a cup, too.” He laughed. “I’m just kidding. You don’t have three hands and I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
His eyes moved around the room, and he gestured to the windows, commenting on the view of the skyline. He asked me some questions about the firm I came from and my ambitions. When I explained I had agreed to this position for one year, but would give plenty of notice if I decided not to stay. He understood knowing this city wasn’t for everyone, especially someone from a small town. The warmth of his smile was comforting, knowing that he just wanted me to succeed.
“Alright, let’s get to work now, shall we?” He flipped open a folder that was sitting on the desk and pulled out some paperwork. He explained the project to me and asked me if I had questions. I asked a few, and he answered them all, giving me more information than I asked for. His responses were thorough.
“Well, if you can do me a favor, and even if you get caught up in the next few days, give this old man until the end of next week before you boot me out of my office.”
My jaw tightened as I cringed. “Sir, I would never do that. When you are ready, I’ll take over. In the meantime, it’s an honor to work with you.”
Chapter Five
Jennifer
I took the last sip of the steamy coffee Matt brought me, and tossed it into my trash can with a satisfied sigh. The hot liquid felt good as it rolled down my throat, and I welcomed the small boost of energy it provided. Glancing up, Laura was in the doorway, looking anxious.
“We need to talk,” she said. I could see her trying to peer around the corner, making sure her boss was still out of his office. Mr. Curran despised gossip and would punish anyone caught.
