Not According to Plan

The Office

"I bet you skipped lunch," Baz the security guard says as I enter the tower where I work. He stands directly in front of the revolving doors of the modern high rise which is the home for Oscar and Deluca, the law firm which employs 5,000 staff in London. Baz's white teeth sparkle as he grins. He's in his early fifties, his dark hair is clipper cut and he has a close-cropped beard that is more salt than pepper. He's had a watchful eye on me since I started pulling long hours at Oscar and Deluca, which was since I was twenty-one, often insisting I call a taxi home.

"I've got something for you." I stop past the security barriers and reach into my handbag. "Application form for your son."

Baz frowns as he takes the book. "Don't go worrying yourself about everything I say."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I reply. "Make sure he emails it to me directly as we want to give him the best chance for work experience."

"Thank you." Baz eyes the book-marked sections. "He'll appreciate this."

"If you need anything else I'm happy to help."

"You're happy to help," he says. "I know, but like I said, 'stop worrying and go out and have some fun'."

"I'll try," I reply. "But I love it."

"I'm not even sure I want my son to be a lawyer with all the hours your pull." He shakes his head and mutters something about quality of life as my high-heels click over the marbled tiles in the tower.

The foyer is cavernous with sunlight streaming through the modern high rise. The building is modern and opulent, citrus scents waft from large fruit bowls sitting on the black lacquered reception desks.

I catch the elevator to the thirty-fourth floor where my office is and I make a beeline toward my office. Riely my personal assistant is at her station, a desk right outside my office. She gestures madly, a meatball sandwich is halfway to the back of her mouth. "I've been calling you. Where have you been?"

You'd think that I worked for Riely rather than the other way round. "Meeting," I reply. 

"What meeting?" Riely says, wiping at her face, scrounging around for serviettes. Not only is Reily my friend but being my secretary, she knows almost everything about me. Riely and I have known each other since we both started on the same day at Oscar and De Luca, after I graduated from Law School at Cambridge University and she joined the secretarial pool. Anyway, Riely and I became instant friends. So, I've known her for the entire nine years of my employment and she knows everything about Mark, even the first day I met him. I've told Riely about our first date, then second, then everything up to the point of Mark's imminent proposal. Well I assume there will be a proposal because that's what we've spoken about. That's the plan. She's met Mark at the office, at my place, at nights out, so in total, about ten billion times.

While Riely has moved up from the secretarial pool, I've soared the law ranks from mere Associate, to Senior Associate, and now I'm Director. The next promotion is supposed to be Junior Partner but I'm not there yet. I'm aiming for it. There's a process to it, and if everything goes exactly like my boss Linda and I have mapped out, I'm supposed to be the youngest Junior Partner in the history of the firm, which is quite an accomplishment. I've climbed the ladder quickly but Riely knows and almost everyone knows I'm committed to Oscar and De Luca, one of the leading professional law firms in the nation. I'm so committed that I see the cleaning staff of an evening, more than I see Mark. Not that Mark has much more free time than I do on weeknights. But we're good with that.

Thing is with Riely, is it's hard to keep anything from her. She has access to my calendar, my emails, and if I had a personal diary, she'd probably write the events for me. She's a hard worker but I kept the meeting with the estate agent off book because I don't want to admit that this was the third meeting. Especially since Mark didn't show, again. I can't. I just can't tell her.