"Was his DNA on the weapon?" Silence. "It's his gun right? He'd pulled the trigger right? Was Terrence Gresham's DNA on the weapon?" He ran a hand through his chestnut hair.
"Maybe you're right, maybe we shouldn't think about Monday, but remember o...
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★彡
Thursday 8th
She was mad. Her Jimmy Choos clicked in step with her mounting frustration, hands clutching onto Terrence Gresham's records. "Clear my afternoon Kenneth." Christina threw a flitting glimpse at her secretary Kenneth Harper. He wore a curious smile on his chocolate face, probing questions suppressed as emerald eyes trailed Christina's quick stride. She was mad and Kenneth Harper knew this. Better explained, she was in one of her moods. He rose from his seat, his feet in pace with hers.
"I would, Christina, but it's not your afternoon I'm concerned about." She glimpsed over her shoulder at the man in the Fendi slim-fit suit.
"And what should I be concerned about?" She was standing, listening. "I have a lot on my mind and as you can tell, I'm not in the mood to see any of my clients."
"I understand that, but," Kenneth drew a pause, hesitant. "Cohen's in your office. He said something about releasing you as a partner." Christina frowned. She'd put her back and effort into a job that didn't cherish her, working for a man driven by his wicked whims. She had a contract, she could sue if he violated her limited rights as a partner of Wellington & Turner.
She nodded. "Just clear out my afternoon, I'll handle Cohen." He cleared from her sights.
Christina stopped in her stride by the foot of her desk. She placed Terrence's file on the dogwood table and undid the button of her blazer. "What brings you to my office, Cohen?" She addressed the elderly man that had been running his lean wrinkle dressed fingers along the spine of her books, he was particularly admiring the thick spine of the legislation she'd collected; the labor laws. There was a section Christina had read and reread regarding women's labor laws, it urged her to face Cohen, even though he's shut her down every time since.
Light from the windows poured into the room, the lines of the blinds forming a pattern of shadows on her wall. She acknowledged this. She was waiting on the elderly man whose receding hairline had turned salt and brown pepper.
"I should have a reason to check on one of my senior associates?" Christina shrugged off her blazer and placed it on her desk. Glimmering gold and blues caught her eye. She skimmed over the envelope stuffed underneath her name tag. Cohen whirled around, hands in his pockets. She seemed uninterested in what he had to say, he couldn't care less.
"It's funny, you only refer to me as a senior associate or partner when you need me to play that role." Christina played along to Cohen's game. Cohen chuckled, a deep chesty laugh that reminded Christina of a cough.
"Well, what can I say, you're a smart woman." She tugged on the frilly overly decorated envelope. She ran her fingers over the delicate surface but didn't open it. "You got me. I'm making budget cuts, I need the opinion of all my partners." He was making budget cuts, he was considering letting her go because he was making budget cuts. He would lose too much, she'd invested too much for the firm to throw her overboard like a liability.
"Kenneth already squealed earlier." She was the farthest thing from bothered by Cohen's threats. She had a percentage in Wellington & Turner, they couldn't turn their back on her when she was close enough to begin making executive changes. "Mentioned your plan to cut me along with the interns."
"You should take him with you, the noisy thing, there's no suspense anymore."
"You can't make budget cuts without the consent of two-thirds percentage of the partners at this firm." Cohen smiled at this.
"There was a meeting at three, I was told you were at the precinct," Cohen explained. Christina nodded. Not surprisingly, he'd organized a meeting without informing her. She dropped the envelope. "You seem to forget, you're not the only partner in this firm. I can still make decisions without you." Christina chose to overlook this. He wasn't going to bait her into an unethical fall-out. He was grasping for a reason to let her go and she wasn't prepared to give it to him.
"Trying to gather all I can on Terrence Gresham, might be defending him in court." Christina rounded her table and sunk into her leather chair.
Cohen tensed, shoulders squared. "I heard about your dear Daddy's case. It seems you won't be handling his case." She frowned, slightly confused, a reaction that only made his macabre grin grow. "Don't tell me you've forgotten your contract? You're only within rights to represent clients of Wellington & Turner. Partner or not." Cohen chided her, menacingly jabbing his finger at her face. He composed himself, standing straighter and tugging on the hem of his blazer.
"This might come as a surprise to you, but you were just threatening to drop me like I mean nothing. Now you're quoting my contract?" He was silent, but it didn't last.
"So what, you're going to try and bargain with me? Blackmail me?" Christina chuckled.
"I don't care anymore, Cohen. If you let me loose, if you keep me, I'm going to stand up for my father in the courtroom, and that's final." Christina gulped a breath, retaining her concrete gaze on Cohen.
"If you want to grow as a lawyer here at Wellington & Turner, you're going to have to put in the effort." Christina pulled out a contract she'd long overlooked from her top desk drawer. She flipped through it. She remembered it; a contract to change the headstone by Michel's grave. She scribbled her signature at the end of it. "You want a seat at the table don't you?" She gazed up at Cohen, her concrete gaze piercing. He remained unfazed. "I've already given you this office, a step up from the cubicle attorney whose clients never took her the least bit seriously."
"I deserve that seat at the table and you know it, Cohen."
"That may be so," His shoulders rose and fell. "but you'll have to prove that beyond a reasonable doubt." Christina bit back her comment. She'd faced worse than Cohen, he couldn't get under her skin, not anymore. "So what will it be? Keep your job and retain all the rights of a name partner, or loose everything and represent Terrence in court?"
