The BACHELORETTE Project (The Project: LESLEE Series) (32 page)

I walk up to the attorney’s office that I have an interview with and sigh
. This is my life. I will end up
be
coming
this miserable paralegal with no true social life or real boyfriend. Maybe someone can make my life into a soap opera. That would be cool and depressing at the same time.

“David Kirkpatrick, Attorney at Law,” I read the sign outside the door. “Here we go,” I say to myself as I walk into the office. Inside,
I can’t help but to see that
Mr. Kirkpatrick is a big fan of classic cherrywood pieces. Don’t get me wrong though. It is kinda beautiful. It’s classic and it’s basic. I’m sure that he’s a straightforward guy. The only thing that’s boggling my mind right now is the oversized picture of dogs playing poker hanging on the wall. Maybe he’s a poker fan? Maybe he likes dogs?

“You have an appointment?” the secretary asks me from behind her desk, a middle aged woman with dark hair and glasses. She looks very Sopranos-like, you know, like a mobster’s wife. A little scary if you ask me.

“I have an interview with Mr. Kirkpatrick today for the paralegal position,” I tell her.

“And you are?”

“Leslee Robinson,” I answer and I pull out the resume from my purse. The secretary snatches it from my hands and begins to read it over. She laughs.

“You know, you’re not like the other candidates applying for this position,” she tells me as she sips her coffee. “One girl went to Harvard Law School.”

“I’m sure I’m not like the other women who applied for this position,” I say as she smirks. “I bet none of them are the daughter of retired Judge Robinson of Philadelphia.” The secretary spits out her beverage in mid-air. Yup, she knows who he is, and yes, I did a name-drop in order to be better qualified for a job. But, wouldn’t you do the same thing? Any advantage at this point is a good advantage. Besides, if I’m working, I can get my mind off of other things such as men … crazy men, psychotic men, horrible dates, Karen’s wedding crap, and Eric.

“You’re
Judge Robinson’s daughter?” she asks in amazement.

“Why, yes,” I say, smiling. “Yes, I am.”

“That means you have connections all around the city?”

“I never really thought about it, but yeah I guess I do,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

The secretary quickly stands up from her seat. “Hold on one second,” she tells me as she rushes to the office door of Mr. Kirkpatrick. She begins to knock loudly. “David!” she shouts through the door. “Your eleven o’clock interview is here!”

“I’m on the phone!” he yells through the door.

“Well, get off the phone! It’ll be worth it!” she shouts back at him. The secretary looks at me and smiles. “He’ll be with you in a moment,” she says pleasantly and sits down at her desk. “We have coffee if you want some.”

“Oh, no. I’m fine, but thanks,” I reply as I sit on the couch. My God. If I knew that I would be treated so nicely just by mentioning my father’s name then I would have done it more often. Of course, mentioning his name didn’t really help me when I was arrested against my own will for something that I wasn’t even apart of. I guess being a retired judge’s daughter has its ups and downs. Go figure.

Mr. Kirkpatrick’s door swings and no one comes out. “I think he’s ready to see you now,” the secretary says. I gulp. The way his office door opened looked like something out of a scary movie and all that’s missing is the mysterious smoke outpouring from inside of it. I take a deep breath as I walk toward his office.
You can do it, Leslee,
I think to myself.
Show no signs of mercy.
I enter into Mr. Kirkpatrick’s lair, and sit down in front of his desk.

Aside from the imaginary smoke in his office making this interview one of the scariest things I’ve done in my life, I can’t help but to notice how incredibly hot Mr. Kirkpatrick is. I mean, he’s not Tom Cruise hot
because to me Tom Cruise kinda looks like a little kid, but he looks ... Ryan Reynolds hot! Superhero hot! There he is, Kirkpatrick, in his hottie position in his chair with his hottie business suit on and some hottie glasses that he takes off immediately and places on his hottie desk. The hottie smile displays across his face. Am I sweating?
Yes, Leslee, you are sweating.
It’s gotta be the suit. Something about a man in a nicely pressed business suit and tie just drives me crazy … in a good way of course.

"Leslee Robinson?" he asks as if he knows me or knows about me. He puts out his hand.

"Mr. Kirkpatrick," I say as I give him a strong, confident handshake. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Please, just call me David."

I'm shaking and nervous as hell. My handshake was confident but the rest of me is a complete wreck. I can't do this!  And why waste my time? I will never get this job competing against Ms. Harvard Law School; then again I am Judge Robinson’s daughter. If I keep repeating that in my head, then maybe it will help me.
I am Judge Robinson’s daughter. I deserve this job. I am Judge Robinson’s daughter …

"Hi, David," I say, and I sound like a dummy saying it because I'm not comfortable calling him by his first name. "I'm Leslee Robinson." I laugh. "I'm sure you already know that because you just said my name."

David just smiles at me. "Yeah ..." he replies. He just said “yeah ...” like I'm an idiot or something, or maybe I’m just paranoid. I’ve never had a boss as good looking as him. I don’t think I’ve ever met an attorney that looks as good as he does. This is awkward. I’m entirely sure that I’m attracted to this man that I could be working for in the future and I don’t know how comfortable I would be with that.

We both just sit and look at each other. He's still smiling and I can't tell what type of face I have. I'm numb to everything these days. It's like my feelings have been sucked up by a vacuum or something along with my brain being sucked up. I begin to fiddle around in my purse for another copy of my resume. "I guess I'll tell you a little bit about myself,” I start. “I'm a certified paralegal and have been for about seven years. I received my bachelor's degree in pre law from Temple University then I moved to New York City and began working for the law firm of Thomas and Thomas. They handled mostly criminal law, but I can handle just about any type of law ... not saying that they can't handle any type of law, I'm sure that they can." I finally find my resume
and hand it to him. “My resume,
” I say nervously.

David sighs. “Leslee, right?” he asks and I nod my head. “And you worked for Thomas and Thomas?” He begins to skim my resume with his finger and pauses. “You mean the Robert Thomas and Edward Thomas firm of New York City.”

“Well, Thomas is a common last name, but yes,” I answer. “Robert and Edward were my bosses.”

David laughs. “It’s a small world,” he tells me. “A small world.” David begins to shake his head. “The Thomas brothers are good family friends of mine.”

“Oh, really?” I reply.
Well, there goes any chance of me getting this job,
I think to myself.
Robert Thomas, please go screw yourself.

“Edward and I, you know, the younger Thomas, we went to undergrad together.”

“Oh, that means that you went to—”

“Yale,” he tells me. “I graduated from Yale. We were on the crew team together and we pledged a fraternity together.”

I force a laugh. “Oh, that’s nice,” I say. “Family friends.”

“So, why did you leave their law firm?” he asks me. I gulp.

“I, um …” Should I tell him the truth or should I just act like I wanted some sort of life change? You know, as bad as this year has been, it really couldn’t get any worse. If I tell this man the truth, the most he can say is that he won’t hire me. This is the downfall of being an honest person. Fuck it. Who cares? Things could not get any worse than they are now. “To make a long story short,” I start, “I was in the running for a senior paralegal position at the firm. The day of my interview, I caught Robert Thomas getting a blowjob from a co-worker then he fired me and practically blackmailed me if I said anything. That pretty much sums it up.” The look on David’s face says it all. He’s stunned, floored, surprised … then out nowhere, he just begins to laugh. “I didn’t think it was
that
funny,” I mutter underneath my breath.

“Robbie’s still up to the same shit, I see,” David says.

“If you mean unrightfully firing people and putting them out on the streets, then I would say yes. Robbie is still up to the same shit.”

“You know, his brother and I warned him that this would catch up to him.” David
continues to shake
his head in shame.
“His wife is divorcing him,” he tells me. “And she plans on taking more than half of his money. He’s been living on booze in a one bedroom apartment in North Jersey. His wife kicked him out of their house.” He continues to laugh.

“Well, it’s nice that he’s received his overdue karma, but it didn’t help me any,” I say. “I lost my job because of his affair with a skankwhore.”

David looks over at my purse. “What other papers do you have in there?” he asks and I begin to pull them out.

“It’s just samples of my work,” I tell him. “Document preparations, summaries, things like that.” I hand him the papers and he looks them over quickly. He then looks at the clock and grabs a file off of his desk.

“Oh, shit. I have to be at court in an hour,” he tells me as he rises from his desk. “I really hate this interview process,” David admits to me, “and you seem like a really smart girl.”

“Well, I only learn from the best,” I say, smiling. “I’m retired Judge Robinson’s daughter.”

“Judge Robinson of Philadelphia? You mean
the
Judge Robinson?” he asks in awe.

“That’s my father,” I say. The smile that surfaced in the beginning of our interview on David’s face has once again resurfaced.

“When can you start?” he asks.

“Five minutes ago if you would’ve let me,” I say.

“That’s the perfect answer,” he tells me looking at his watch. “I have to go now,” David says before jetting out of his office to the secretary’s desk. I follow behind him. “Marie,” he tells her, “give Leslee whatever tax forms and payroll information she needs to fill out. Oh, and Leslee?”

“Yes?”

“Congratulations. You’re my new paralegal. Welcome to our legal team,” he tells me and walks swiftly out the front door.

Life is short. You never know what great opportunities may arise in your life.  Never take life for granted, and certainly have no regrets. These are the things that we're told as we're growing up and these are the rules that we follow day by day. Live today as if it was your last day on Earth, and always relish in the moment ...

It’s been only three months and my life has changed drastically for the better. Aside from the drama I experienced earlier in the year, you know, the whole being dumped and homeless thing, the random hospital visit, and the very brief jail stint, I truly believe that I’ve become a better person from all of it. Mistakes were made, lessons were learned, and I’ve made positive changes in my life because of it. This year has taught me so much about life and how to survive the unthinkable. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?

As far as my career goes, I’m still working for Attorney Kirkpatrick as a paralegal which obviously is a no-brainer. I’ve been able to double his caseload by using my connections and my very clever advertising techniques. I can definitely say that he is a happy man … and I am a very happy paralegal. Granted, my salary isn’t as much as I was making in New York, but it was enough for me to move into my own fabulous little place in Rittenhouse Square and purchase a brand new car. Life is definitely getting better.

I haven't been on a date for months. I've occupied my time with work and exercise, hardly any play time, but you know what? I'm happy being by myself because for once in my life, I'm beginning to feel complete. I’m independent, successful, and oh-so happy. If only every woman in the world can say that.

Ring, ring!
As I lay comfortably in the cloud of pillows on my bed, I hear my cell phone ring.
Ugh!
Don’t
people know that on Saturdays you’re supposed to sleep in? I grunt as I answer the phone. “Hello?” I say. This better be important. I was dreaming that I was sipping on a p
ina
colada while sunbathing on a
beautiful tropical island with various hot men admiring
my very presence. Maybe this is my subconscious way of telling myself that I need a vacation soon.

“It’s meeeeee!” Karen shrieks on the other end of the phone. “Wake up, my favorite BFF!”

“I’m up,” I tell her as I roll over onto my back. I let out a very loud yawn. “What’s going on?”

“I found a DJ for the wedding!”

“That’s great to hear. Congrats!” I say. Another good thing about living by myself: I don’t have to deal with Karen’s wedding nonsense. Don’t get me wrong. I do love her to death because she’s my best friend and all, but she turns crazy when it comes to the wedding stuff; almost unbearable to handle.

“Yup,” she says. “I also made an appointment for you next wee
k to have
your
official
bridesmaid dress
altered
. Can you believe that I’m getting married in a month and a half?!”