Everything

XIX

Showtime.

*

Eric Boone and Simon Webster had separate offices. But there was one which they favoured for meetings and that was Simon's.

This was the very same office I'd been interviewed in. It was ironic that things were coming full circle now.

You go in the same way as you come out.

Knocking twice on the door, in the way that Webster preferred, I waited for the large booming voice that commanded:

"Enter!"

This was it. There was no turning back.

Steeling myself, I strode confidently into the room, shutting the door immediately behind me. I was going down, but I would go down in a blaze of glory with my head held high and my dignity intact. They could take my job from me, but they would never take away the passion that I had for the law. Of that, I was completely certain.

Mr. Webster sat, just as I saw him for the first time, behind the large oak desk in the corner of the room. As much as I'd feared the room when I first interviewed here, it was beautiful. Law books were neatly lined up on each wall, much like Spencer's library, bound in red, green and black leather, embossed with shiny gold letters. Mr. Webster had one other personal possession in the room – his family photo. He, his wife and two grown up children stood, smiling wide grins, a very uncharacteristic gesture from the old timer.

Mr. Boone, however, was standing, leaning against the desk and looking out of the window. His strong shape had always cut through the office, and I'd never seen him in anything other than designer. He was a well-kept man who took immense pride in his appearance, and since I'd seen him last, his salt and pepper hair had been cropped shorter, slicked back to his head. He'd always been the friendlier of the two.

But looking at the pair of them now, I realised how much I would miss them. Not only their guidance or their leadership, but their characters. We were going our separate ways now, albeit bitterly, but I would never underestimate the impact they'd had on my life.

"Ah, Adriana, you made it," Mr. Boone turned around sharply, "Please do take a seat."

"Thank you, Sir—s." I nodded, lowering myself down into the comfy chair.

It was only then I realised the room had been augmented, to sit three chairs around the desk, Webster's on one side, the chair I was occupying on the other and the chair that Boone now sat in in between. It was probably for when the new partner was welcomed into the fold in a few hours, this evening. Jared would appreciate something like this. He was always one for a welcoming response.

"You're a tough one to pin down these days, Miss Rodriguez." Webster noted, scribbling something down on his notebook before closing it with a bookmark.

"Uh...yes, Sir. I apologize for that." I replied, respectfully.

Let's just get this over and done with. They owed me that much.

"How have you felt here at the firm, Adriana?" Mr. Webster questioned, leaning his large frame back in his chair.

The cogs in my brain turned quickly. What was he expecting me to say? I've enjoyed working here but I'm happy you're chucking me out now?

"I've felt...valued, Sir," I settled on a word that wasn't too loaded, "I've made the best progress in my career thus far here, and that is entirely owed to the generosity I've experienced from the firm. Entirely."

"And what do you think your personal qualities are, Adriana?" Mr. Boone interjected, looking at me dead in the eye.

I would not back down. I would not show deference or submission. They were teasing this out and I hated it.