That evening, I came back from my umpteenth trip to the copier to find Lauren sitting on the edge of my desk. I stopped short in the hallway the moment I saw her, a thousand different things racing through my head, and then I saw the roll of paper she held in one hand. Blueprints.
I heaved a sigh. So she was going to expand her practice, renovate the office...and replace me. I straightened my shoulders, bracing myself, and walked to my desk, joining her.
She smiled at me as I arrived, and I managed a hesitant smile in return. "Camila," she began, "you remember how we've spoken a few times about expanding our little business here?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. "Our" business indeed, I thought darkly.
"These are the blueprints," she tapped the roll against my desk, "and I'll be on my way out shortly to go over some things with the architect – but I wanted to talk to you first."
I nodded again. "Of course." My voice was a bit flat.
She glanced at me, a tiny frown appearing between her eyebrows as if she had caught my tone. "Camila, I...I'll be taking on at least one partner – maybe two, depending on...well, it doesn't matter." She looked away. "Obviously, with two or three lawyers, we'll need more support."
"Obviously."
She glanced at me again, looking oddly confused. I almost glared at her. Did she expect me to be thrilled at losing my job?
I know, I know – I was being an idiot. Fear does that to all of us.
"We'll be hiring some new assistants," she went on, "and probably a few of our own paralegals." She looked away again. "I thought of having you become an office manager, or something, but I just don't think that would work out. It's just not the way the office will be set up."
I was barely holding in that glare now. "I see."
She didn't look at me this time. "So, the practice will need dedicated legal assistants." She cleared her throat. "We'll be dividing up the clients, probably along thematic lines – different areas of legal practice, and so on. So..." She cleared her throat again, still staring down at my desk.
I idly thought that I had never heard her so inarticulate.
"So, if you wanted to switch to be one of the partner's assistants, you know," she glanced at me, "to keep up with, um, your own interests, I'd understand. I'll give you first choice."
I blinked, my mind trying to follow all that. First choice? First choice of what, now?
She looked at me now, those green eyes as uncertain as I'd ever seen them. "I mean, I'd like you to stay my assistant – we're, um, so used to each other and all – but I wouldn't want to hold back your career. I know you must not want to be an assistant forever."
For the first time in several minutes – all right, I'll admit it, in several months – my mind actually grasped what was going on. "You...want me...to stay," I stammered, sounding like an idiot.
It was her turn to blink. "Of course," she said, as if it had never been in question. I tried to keep my lower lip from actually hitting the desk. Not only had I realized what was going on, I had realized just how much of an idiot I'd been.
My mind raced. I had three concerns – one, finding a way to say yes that didn't make me sound like a lovesick fool; two, trying to comprehend my luck; and three, trying to recover something resembling dignity. "I think...we work pretty well together," I stammered finally. "I'd like to stay."
She smiled a brilliant smile – a smile that, I noticed dimly, didn't seem like that hard, professional smile I'd seen so many times. "Good. Glad to hear it." She tapped the blueprints on the desk, getting up and walking toward her office. Then she turned back. "Oh, by the way."
My head jerked back up from where I had been staring blankly at the desk, having failed totally to pull my thoughts into anything like coherency. "What?" I blurted out.
"A client was referred to me from London," she explained. "He lives there, even though his business is here, and he deals with a lot of different law firms. He's looking for an advocate to consolidate all of his different legal issues together so that he doesn't have to monitor it all himself." She ran a hand through her hair. "I thought it would be an interesting challenge. I'm heading to London next week to meet with him a few times." Her eyes met mine. "He's paying, so I figured you might like a bit of a vacation too."
"That sounds wonderful," I said immediately, my mind having, for once, not betrayed me. In fact, it was now running in overdrive, having already leapt to an image that I had experienced earlier.
A hotel bed would fit that image just fine.
