Seduced by the Sommelier

Chapter 1

                                                                                            Elena

                        The sky was dark, it was the time of the day the city came alive. Lights scattered across the city, and cars passed by in a rush. Elena glanced out onto the busy street below and looked at her watch scowling,

"Eight o' clock, this is rediculous." She muttered to herself, as she roughly packed her belongings for the day.

             Loud obnoxious laughter echoed in the hallway, a few of her colleagues howled as they were leaving for the day. She paused to look up, glaring in their direction. All men, all arrogant. Elena clenched her jaw when she saw him, the man who always seemed to be the leader of this shit group looked up making eye contact with her. His gaze was taunting and clearly his goal was to rub his victory over her in her face.
                 Michael Summers, the firm's top Attorney, was as insufferable as he was pompous. Smelling of too much cologne and cigars, he wore stiff pressed suits and a tie she wished she could strangle him with. He had embarrassed her in front of the entire firm, including his father--her boss and she was seething. She knew when a man was underestimating her and she was tired of it.
               Since she was a child there was always the unspoken expectation of gender roles. She was meant to be sweet, agreeable, and quiet. She was pressured to get married young, get knocked up, cook and clean for her husband until the end of time. Happily Ever After? Yeah right. She wasn't born to watch life pass her by while she remained idle, that's why she busted her ass in school, got herself into Harvard and graduated top of her class.
She had worked her way up the career ladder at different firms, also aiming higher, and when a new career opportunity for the most prestigious firm in New York City opened up, she didn't hesitate to take it. Now here she was, fighting to prove herself, as if she was some new grad. Elena slammed her bag shut, her heels clicking aggressively on the polished white marble floors. She was always the first to arrive and last to leave, it had only been a few weeks since she moved here and she already felt defeated and weary.

          Sighing she exited the firm, her shoulders slumped, she waited to hail a taxi. There was no point in driving her own car when there was public transportation. A taxi turned into the roundabout in front of the building and stopped. She straightened her bag on her shoulder and made her way to the door, and slid into the cab.

"Where to miss?" The pudgy middle aged man asked while chewing on a toothpick.

"Hmm. I'm not sure, I've had a rough day and feel like going somewhere to unwind before home." She sighed, fastening her seatbelt.

"Ah. I know just the place, classy lookin gal like you would probably fit right in." He shrugged, Elena met his gaze considering his words before nodding.

"Alright. I'll take your word for it." She agreed, he flipped on the meter and took off.
Elena stared out the window leaning her head on the door. The meeting replayed in her head.
The conference room smelled faintly of espresso and polished wood, but it didn't help Elena's nerves. She straightened her notes and cleared her throat.

"Based on the witness timeline and financial records," she began, sliding the brief forward, 

"There are gaps in the prosecution's chain of evidence. If we press on these inconsistencies, we can create reasonable doubt about Marconi's direct involvement in the laundering operations."
Michael Summers looked up from the file in front of him. The corner of his mouth twitched—just enough to look approving.

"That's a good start," he said, voice smooth, almost fatherly. "You've clearly done your homework."

Elena blinked, uncertain whether she was being flattered or mocked.