Colleagues

Chapter 2 | Sadie

"Don't you dare tell me what my priorities are!" I shouted. All the nerves and stress from the day came flooding back to me, and I admit not all my anger was directed towards the woman in front of me.

I pushed past her, and walked briskly up the stairs. I had to get away from this conversation. It was true, Earl Wilson probably had it coming for him. As a lawyer, however, my job was to remain completely impartial, especially towards cases like this one. And what right did Margot have, criticizing me for my desire to succeed at my job? After all, she was the biggest suck-up of them all.

I unlocked and cautiously opened the door to my apartment. To describe it in the pleasantest way possible: It was rustic. Dust covered every visible surface, and my mattress lacked any sort of sheet or covering. A small bathroom was situated on the right, showcasing a tiny shower with no curtains. At least it had a kitchen and stove. During college, I'd cultivated an aptitude for baking and cooking. But tonight, I was way too exhausted to do any of that.

As I ordered a small pizza from Dominoes, the faint sound of footsteps from the apartment next door filled my ears. These walls were far thinner than I preferred, but I figured I could get past that with time. I heard a faint voice coming from the same direction and I suddenly understood why Margot had been so upset. We were literally neighbors.

"Are you coming tonight?" she asked through the walls that separated us. Her voice seemed strangely vulnerable as she spoke on the phone, catching me off guard. I decided not to eavesdrop any longer.

While I waited for my pizza to arrive, I settled on my hard mattress and began to unpack the duffel bag I'd carried upstairs. The rest of my stuff would be arriving tomorrow, courtesy of my mother who lived about 30 minutes away from the city. Taking out my laptop, I figured I should start researching as much as I could on Earl Wilson before tomorrow.

Margot was right, Earl Wilson was a complete and utter scumbag. His long history of domestic abuse spanned over 15 years and 6 different girlfriends. The primary suspect, his former girlfriend Megan, had called 911 stating that she believed she was in grave danger. But by the time authorities had arrived, Megan was discovered standing over Wilson's bloodied body, a gun on the ground beside her.

It seemed pretty cut and dry, a classic case of self-defense. But as a prosecutor, my job was to ensure Megan spent substantial time behind bars for the murder. It was icky business, but I had to remain professional for the duration of the case and leave my own beliefs out of it.

The doorbell rang, signalling that my pizza had arrived and causing me to nearly exclaim in delight. I was very hungry. After paying the delivery guy, I made my way to the door that led to the tiny balcony of my apartment. I sighed aloud, realizing my balcony was even smaller than I'd originally thought, only extending a few feet from the door.

I sat on the cold cement, my back pressed against the door, enjoying the remnants of my pizza. Despite the traffic and the slightly dingey atmosphere, Chicago was a city unlike any other. I had to give it that. Although my view was sub-par, I could make out dozens of skyscrapers, each distinct in their own way.

Growing up in a more suburban area on the outskirts of the big city, I was still adjusting to the constant bustling and noise. But this would all be worth it in the long run, I was almost certain of that. Especially now, with the prospect of working on such a high profile case, things seemed to be looking up.

The noise of a door sliding open interrupted my moment of contemplation. I looked over in search of the source of the sound, only to turn back quickly. Margot had also decided this was the perfect opportunity for quality balcony time. Incredible.

While trying to be as quiet as possible, I slid further away. I'd had my fair share of Margot for today, and I definitely didn't want any more. Lucky for me, Margot didn't seem to notice my presence as she stared straight ahead. The sky was darkening around us, making her a silhouette illuminated by the lights of the city.

Unlike me, Margot had clearly dressed out of her work clothes and was wearing a leather jacket with gray sweatpants. Her dark hair rippled in the gentle breeze as she leaned against the metal railing. She held something in her fingers, and as the acrid smell of smoke hit my nose I realized it was a cigarette.

She probably thought she was so cool, standing there like a character out of a coming-of-age film. In my opinion she was anything but, smoking that cancer-stick and being a conceited jerk to all those around her. I couldn't stay here any longer, taking in those toxic fumes exhaled by a coworker and neighbor who clearly didn't want me.

As I made my way back inside the muggy atmosphere of my apartment, though anything was better than cigarette smoke, I mentally prepared myself for the challenging day ahead. It was one thing to be starting at a new job. It was a whole different set of obstacles to have your deskmate absolutely despise you. But I could do this, just one step at a time. One minute at a time, one conversation at a time, one day at a time. I would come out of this stronger than I had started. It would take a whole lot more than some moody colleague to break me.