The BACHELORETTE Project (The Project: LESLEE Series) (5 page)

“Hello?” a woman answers on the other end.

“Hi,
” I blurt out not knowing what else to say.

“Who is this?”

I smirk. “I think the better question is ‘who are you and why does my fiancé have your phone number?’”

“Good mor
ning, Leslee!” the secretary exclaim
s as I walk through the lobby of my firm. She greets me with a smile. “How was your weekend?”

Shitty.
I think to myself. “Just great,
” I say solemnly as I walk toward my office. She swiftly walks after me with papers in her hand.

“Wait a second,
” she says as she jumps in front of me and smiles
. “These are from Mr. Thomas.” S
he hands me the papers and I roll my eyes. It’s Monday morning. How can anyone be so incredibly happy on a Monday morning? It
’s
like she’s taken way too many happy pills … or I am still in a bad mood from the Saturday night fiasco, and the fact that Victor and I are on non-speaking terms doesn’t help the situation at all.

“What are these?” I ask, looking down at the papers.

“Well, these are a few client files that Mr. Thomas wanted you to look over, some deposition notes
and
a memo for your interview today.”

“Interview?” I ask. I’m so o
ut of it that I have no clue
what she’s talking about.

“Your interview … for
the senior paralegal position, r
emember?”

How in the world could I forget? “Oh, yes. That’s right! Interview!” I force a smile. “That is today, isn’t it?”

“Yes, and Mr. Thomas will be conducting the interview himself.”

“With Maya from Human Resources?” I ask.

“No,
” she says. “Just him. Good luck!”

“Thanks,
” I reply through gritted teeth. Why does this interview have to be today? I’m having a bad day, the continuation of a bad weekend. And I’m not even wearing my most presentable outfit. How come he couldn’t just schedule it
for
tomorrow?

I sit down at my desk and take a deep breath. I look around and all I see are pictures of Victor and me at the zoo, the Empire State Building, the Bahamas, and then there’s one photo from my college days at Temple University. I pick it up and stare at it. Damn, I miss those days. College. Probably the best years of my life when it was just me, my best friend Karen, her boyfriend and now fiancé, Russ, and my best guy friend in the whole entire world, Eric. It was four years of just us, partying, being young, living the college life. I wish I could just go back to that. I wish I could just be careless again and it was OK to make mistakes. I wish I were a college kid. Now I’m stuck in a life that I’m not even sure that I want anymore. I didn’t even tell my college friends about my engagement yet.

“Morning, hussy,
” Minnie says as she walks into the office. I don’t say anything. “What picture are you staring at now?” she
asks then
smirks. “Let me guess. It’s the one where you and Victor are visiting some cheesy tourist attraction with cheesy smiles on your cheesy faces?”

“No, it’s actually a p
icture of when I was in college,
” I reply, still staring at the photo.

“Let me see,
” Minnie says as she snatches the picture out of my hand. “There’s you
with your Freshman Fifteen …” S
he laughs and I’m not amused.

“W
ow, that’s funny,
” I reply sarcastically. I sit at my desk and begin to rummage through my papers.

“And who are these two gentlemen?” she asks referring to Russ and Eric.

“Just some college friends, that’s all.”

“Where were you in the picture?”

“We were climbing up the A
rt Museum steps in Philadelphia,
” I say, frustrated. “Do you need to hear my whole life story?!” I snatch the picture away from her and put it back on my desk.

“What’s up with you today?” she asks and I just shake my head.

“Nothing,
” I say. “Ju
st had a bad weekend
.”

“Oh, because usually I’m the miserab
le one and you’re the happy one,
” she says to me, which is true. “Maybe the univers
e has taken a turn for the worse
.”

“Maybe.” I stop fiddling with my paperwork and my body just pauses. “Minnie,” I start, “are you even a tad bit upset that you weren’t considered for the senior paralegal position, yet I am?”

She thinks for a second. “I can’t say that I was completely happy, but then again Amy doesn’t like me nor do I like her. I wasn’t surprised about you being recommended for the position, but Chloe Curano? It doesn’t make any sense. Chloe is always fucking up depositions. Not only that, but she’s such a fuckin’—”

“Skank?” I say.

“Twatwaffle?”

“Whore?”

“Slut!” Minnie says. “Chloe is such a slut.”

I nod my head. “I know, right? A mousy-looking, diseased-infested slut.” We both laugh. “I don’t know how
good my chances actually are considering--“

“Chloe’s legs are always open like a Jersey diner.”

“Yes,
” I say. This is awkward; a truly awkward day. Minnie and I are never on the same page about anything, but today it’s like it’s fate or something. She’s thinking the exact same things that I’m thinking. Maybe we’ve become friends. Of course, she’s not like my other friends. She’s no Angelina or Thai or Jay for that matter, but it seems that she means well. I think Minnie is beginning to rub off on me.

I sigh. “Who am I kidding? Why should I even interview for the position?” I say aloud. “I won’t get the job.”

“Leslee, what are you saying?” Minnie asks. “You mean you’re not even going to try?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”

Minnie gets up from her desk and walks over to me. “You should. I mean, why not? You’re Leslee Robinson, paralegal! This is the day you’ve been waiting for, the day that could elaborate your career. Can’t you just picture yourself sitting at your new executive desk, feet up, wearing one of those fashionable Donna Karan business suits and those Manolos that you are always prancing around in, smoking on one of those fancy cigars that the men of this office lavish on when they’re celebrating some sort of victory? Can’t you just see it now? Successful, powerful, Leslee Robinson, senior paralegal of one of the most prestigious law firms in New York City.” I picture it. I picture it all, the fancy suit, the hot stilettos, my executive desk … my
own
office with a view. I begin to nod my head and get my confidence back.

“You know what, Minnie?” I say as I stand up from my chair. “You’re right. I’m going to go into Mr. Thomas’ office and get that position. I don’t have to be some whore to get what I want. I’m a strong, independent woman! A
powerful
woman, hear me roar!” I shout loudly as I’m hyped up from Minnie’s inspirational speech. “I can do this.”

“You can do this,
” she reassures me and I nod uncontrollably.

“I can totally do this,” I say, “right after I get some coffee.” I rush out of my office and into the break room.
I can do this,
I think to myself.
I can absolutely do this. I will … do … THIS!

“Ms. Robinson,
” I hear a male voice say behind me and I’m startled.

“Good morning, Mr. Thomas,
” I say, smiling. “How are you today?”

“Doing
very well, thank you for asking,
” he says as he reaches for the coffee pot. Ugh, I can just smell the Old Spice on his body. It’s overwhelming and almost unmanageable. I begin to cough.

“Are you OK, Leslee?” he asks me as he pats my back. He’s so old looking and wrinkly. He’s so pudgy, too. How come I never noticed this stuff before? Oh yeah, that’s right. Because I never stood close enough to him to notice it. He almost reminds me of those perverted looking men on those Viagra commercials.
I … can’t … breathe. Old … Spice … overload.

“I’m fine, Mr. Thomas,
” I say trying to catch my breath. “I just have bad asthma.” I’m such a liar because I don’t have asthma. His cologne is absolutely killing me.

“OK, well I guess I can intervi
ew you now before I go to court,
” he tells me. “You want to meet me in my office in, let’s say, five minutes?”

“Yes,
” I’m able to blurt
out
. “Five minutes is fine.”

“Grea
t,
” he says. “And if you could bring those deposition transcripts to me that would be appreciated.”

“Of course,
” I cough out. “Of course.”

“OK,
” he says, smiling. It’s like he was undressing me with his eyes. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m just paranoid. Maybe he’s not an old perv like the other lawyers in this firm.

He leaves the break room and I’m able to breathe again. Old Spice should be illegal. I could’ve died from his stench. Doesn’t he know not to take showers in his cologne? Tisk, tisk.

I walk back to my o
ffice and sit down for a minute
trying to sort out the deposition transcripts.
This is it!
I think to myself.
The big interview day! You can do this. You can totally do this!
“All right, Minnie,
” I say. “I’m going to my interview now.” I pick up my papers and walk toward the door.

“Kick some ass, Leslee!” she yells after me.

“Yes,
” I say to myself. “I’m going to kick some major ass … like a football. Kick it like a football …” OK, so now I’m getting nervous. Just a bit. My palms are sweating and I begin to shake.
I can do this. I CAN do this.
In the words of Barack Obama, “Yes … We Can!”

I walk through the office halls and knoc
k on Mr. Thomas’ door. “Come in,
” I hear him say and
I enter his office. “Hi, Leslee,
” he greets me as he motions to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you,
” I say as I sit down. I place the papers on his desk. “These are the depos that you wanted me to look over, and some other work from Friday.”

He quickly looks through the papers with a questionable look on his face. “It seems that there are a few things missing.”

“I can go get it,
” I say eagerly. “It’s no problem. I’m sure they are still on my desk.”

“No worries,
” he says as he rises from his chair. “You can get those to me later.” He walks over to his office door and shuts it. Mr. Thomas smiles. It kinda looks like a pedo-smile? I don’t know. Something about him is just so … creepy. “We’ll need a little privacy I’m sure.”

“For the interview, of course,
” I say.

“Yeah … for the interview.” He proceeds to take off his
suit jacket and throws it on his chair
. He sits on the edge of his desk right in front of me. I gulp. “So tell me why you think that you are the best candidate for the senior paralegal position?”

I can’t concentrate.
I can’t concentrate!
Not when Mr. Thomas’ crotch is about a foot and a half from my face! “I, um …” I clear my throat. “I believe that I would be a great senior paralegal because …” He leans his face in toward me. I back away. “Because I am a hard worker. I’m smart, dedicated, and I possess the leadership skills that can lead our team of par
alegals toward success … amongst other things
.”

“Hmm …” he says as he rubs his chin. “That’s interesting.”

“Yes,” I reply nervously. “And also, I’m experienced, I’m well-educated, and my work ethics are genuine and fair. I can be a positive motivator for others in this office.”

“I see,” he says as he stares at my breasts. Is it just me or do I have the right to feel violated in this
very moment? “You look nervous,
” he says and laughs. He jumps off his desk and pulls two glasses and a bottle of Scotch from his shelf. “You need a drink.”

“Oh, no thank you,
” I reply. “It’s only ten o’clock in the morning. Plus, I don’t drink Scotch. It makes me a little nauseous.”

“Nonsense!” he says to me as he
pours himself a drink. He sits back down at the edge of his desk, his crotch still way too close to my face. “A little drink never hurt anyone.” He takes a sip and places the drink on his desk. “Tell me again why you would be great for this position?” Mr. Thomas is looking at me
as if he wants to eat me alive
in that overly sexual way. It’s a little bit scary … and quite disgusting.

“I was saying that I can be a motiva
tor, and that I’m a hard worker,
” I repeat.

He licks his lips and stares at mine. “Yes, a hard worker.” I can’t help but to look down and notice the obvious erection in his pants. Ugh, I hate men. Are they always thinking about sex? “So, what other
positions
would you be interested in at this firm, that is if you aren’t offered the senior paralegal position?”
The position that is far away from you,
I think to myself.