Blindfolded Innocence (2 page)

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Four hours later, I paused in my typing and leaned back in my chair.
 
I stretched my arms and legs and rolled my head, trying to get the kinks out of my neck.
 
I looked around my office, taking my first real appraisal of the space.
 
It was a nice office, more than I had expected as an intern.
 
Dark wood-paneled walls, plush cream carpet, and expensive, heavy furniture - the room had a definite masculine sense, a cigar-bar type feel.
 
I didn't mind.
 
Girly, flowery, and pink didn't exactly inspire fear in the courtroom.

My desk was filled with legal briefs, all with Broward's hand-written notes all over them.
 
They all needed to be summarized, and have his notes added.
 
I sighed.
 
Long nights were going to be the norm, mostly filled with menial work that would do nothing to further my work experience.
 
Welcome to the world of internship.
 
I leaned back over the desk and started in again.

An hour later, there was a soft knock of my door, and Todd Appleton stuck his gorgeous blond head in.
 
"We're heading out for drinks," he said.
 
"Still room for you, if you're interested."
 
He looked carefree, relaxed, and happily done for the day, his tie already loosened.

"I think I'll be here a while," I said, from behind the stack of briefs.
 
"But thanks for checking."
 
His gaze traveled from my full desk to the crammed cardboard file box on the side of my desk.
 
His smile faded slightly.
 
"Alright... I'll take a rain check."
 
He tapped his hand on the side of the doorframe twice and then left, closing the door behind himself.
 

I rubbed my eyes and focused again on Britley vs Russell Properties, an exciting legal battle regarding a dispute over water rights on a condominium project.
 
Thrilling
.
 
At least Broward is still here also.
 
I can hear him on the phone, his seat creaking occasionally when he stands up, usually to pace.
 
I bet a track has been worn down on his plush carpet from the constant pacing.
 
My stomach growled.
 
Tomorrow I would know to pack a dinner.
 
Damn Todd and the other interns, with their light workloads and happy hour drinks
.
 
I grumbled a little longer to myself and then tried to refocus my mind.

At 10pm Broward knocked on my office door and entered.
 
Tie undone, shirt rumpled, he looked at my exhausted face with a gentle smile.
 
"Come on, Julia.
 
Let's go.
 
You've put in a good first day."
 
I smiled at him wearily.
 
I was so hungry I was ready to start chewing on a post-it note.
 
I was certain my butt had officially fused to the leather seat, and my hands were cramping from the nonstop typing.
 
I wanted to come across as a road-hardened legal warrior, but I was too tired to keep up the facade.
 
Besides, he looked tired also.
 

"Alright Boss," I said, grabbing my jacket and shrugging into it.
 
"I won't argue with you, seeing its my first day."
 
I picked up my purse and followed him down the hall, waving to the quiet, round, Hispanic housekeeper who was waiting at the entrance to Broward's office, armed with disinfectant and a trash bag.
 
She smiled at me and waited until we passed before scurrying in the office.
 

"I'll walk you to your car," Broward said, a statement rather than a question.
 
"You don't need to be in the parking garage alone."
 
I nodded my thanks and tried to walk without stumbling.
 

We got on the elevator, and the muted music filled the area.
 
I tried to think of something moderately intelligent to say.

"Today I buried you in files." Broward broke the silence.
 
"I didn't give you a proper introduction to the office.
 
Tomorrow I will give you a tour and the basic background information on everything that you will need.
 
Week after next I will be in Fort Lauderdale, so I want to get you as acclimated and self-sufficient as possible."
Thank God - a week of normal hours
.
 

"Sounds great," I said.
 
I gestured to the 10-year old grey Toyota Camry, my mom's old car.
 
Now one of the only cars in the parking lot, the only exception being a shiny black Lexus, which I assumed was his.
 
"This is mine," I said, a bit unnecessarily.
 
"Thank you for walking me."
 
I awkwardly stuck out my hand, and he shook it.
 

"See you tomorrow, Ms. Campbell." Broward smiled and released my hand.

"Goodnight, Mr. Broward."
 
I nodded at him and headed for my car.
 

CHAPTER
4

6am came way too freaking early.
 
Yesterday I had bounded out of bed, excited about my internship, but today it took two snooze cycles before I lifted my head.
 
My alarm still sounding, I fumbled to turn it off just as pounding started on the wall beside my bed.
 
"It's off!" I shouted.
  
Zack, my stoner of a roommate, stopped beating on the wall.
 
I'm sure he was already back asleep.
 
He had had friends over till past 3am, and they had made no effort to be quiet.
 
I had no doubt there would be plenty of fights in the upcoming months over our sleep routines.
  
After breakfast and a shower, I grabbed a blue sweater dress out of the closet and pulled it over my head, cinching a brown belt around my waist.
 
Grabbing small faux diamond stud earrings and a purse, I surveyed my shoe options.
 
All sexy and over 3-inches tall.
 
Seeing the long hours ahead, I would need to buy some shoes that emphasized comfort over fashion.
 
For now, I grabbed some gorgeous leather and gold Jimmy Choos and slid them on.
 

I arrived at the office at 7:30am.
 
Pulling open the heavy teak doors, I entered the lobby, nodding to Dorothy, the ancient receptionist.
 
"Good morning Miss Campbell," she said creakily.
 
"Here late last night?"
 
Her bemused expression had no trace of pity.
 

"Not too late," I replied breezily.
 
She grinned at me, her wrinkles emphasized by the motion.
 

"Have a good day," I heard her call, as I pressed the door to the stairs and headed for the fourth floor.

The fourth floor, or power floor (as referred to by the staff) was set up into three different wings, one for each partner.
 
Each partner had two secretaries, two paralegals, and one intern.
 
Brad De Luca was the exception, with four secretaries, and three paralegals.
 
I remembered from Orientation that his caseload doubled that of any other attorney, including the other two partners.
 
Browards' secretaries were Sheila and Beverly - neither of which, judging by their empty desks, arrived till 8am.

Broward was already in his office, phone to his ear, when I passed his closed door.
 
I waved at him through the glass, and entered my office.
 
Setting my purse by the door, I switched my cell to silent and then started in on the pile stacked on my desk.
 
I was halfway through the first brief when Broward appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning," he said distractedly.

"Good morning."

"Did you make coffee?" His question caused me to look up from my computer.

"Coffee?" I stalled.
 
Is that part of my duties?
 

"Yes, the kitchen is on the third floor.
 
I'm sorry, I didn't give you the proper tour, but thought they might have covered that in orientation."
 
A phone began ringing in his office, and he glanced back at me with mounting agitation.
 

"Yes, I'll get it now."
 
I stood quickly, and smoothed down my dress.
 
He disappeared, and I heard him answer his phone a few seconds later.
 

Coffee.
 
Okay, I can do this.
 
Are Trevor and Todd brewing freaking coffee?!"
 

I found the third floor kitchen without too much trouble, and stared at the complex stainless steel coffee pot.
 
I come from a non-coffee family.
 
I have never had any desire to attach myself to a caffeine habit, and have treated coffee the same way I treated cigarettes, drugs, and, until I was nineteen, sex.
 
I stayed away from them, and they stayed away from me.
 
Therefore, my coffee education rivaled that of a newborn.
 
I weighed my options.
 
Admit weakness and ask Ancient Dorothy for help?
 
Nope.
 
I started opening drawers in the kitchen, hoping for a user's manual for the coffee pot.

My butt was saved by a short, round woman with spiky red hair and an "I love my Labradoodle" sweatshirt.
 
My mind wondered sarcastically if the sweatshirt classified as business attire until my sub-conscious smacked it across the face.
 
Who was I to judge salvation?
 

"Good morning!" Labradoodle woman chirped happily, bustling past me and settling her orange and blue polka-dotted lunchbox in the fridge.

"Hi!" I blurted out enthusiastically.
 
Probably a little too enthusiastically, she gave me an odd smile before heading to the sink to wash her hands.

I cornered the Labradoodle-loving stranger by the sink.
 
"My name is Julia," I said.
 
"Today is my second day, and Broward just asked me for coffee, and I've never made coffee before, and can't find a user's manual for the coffee machine, and don't know how it is supposed to taste…" my rush of words faltered and I looked at her in desperation.
 
PLEASE, have some COMPASSION!

She beamed at me and patted my arm reassuringly.
 
"Now, now - that is no problem!
 
I don't drink a lot of coffee myself, but I'll show you how to fix it!"
 
With a purpose, she bustled over to the cabinet, and pulled out a jug of ground coffee.
 
"Now, the way I fix it is to put 3 teaspoons of coffee grounds in, and then fill the water canister to 8 cups."
 
3 teaspoons, 8 cups - sounds easy enough.

I followed her instructions, and had a pot of watery brown liquid brewing in no time.
 
I didn't trust myself with a taste test, but poured Broward a cup and stuck one of the prepared containers of sweeteners, creamers, and stirrers under my arm.
 
I carefully navigated my way through the halls, to the elevator, and used my elbow to press the button.
 
The doors opened to Todd Appleton's perky good looks.
 
His glowing skin and enthusiastic "good morning" spoke of a night well rested.
 
I stepped on the elevator with him and watched his eyes travel up my legs and stop on my shaky coffee cup and creamer selection.
 
I had already sloshed at least a fourth of the coffee around the rim, and could feel some drops running down my fingers.
Great.