Natalie Charles - The Burden of Desire

“Hmm.” She sealed her mouth into a tight line. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Jack, when you’re ready to have that meeting you emailed me about, I’ll be in my office.”

“This is the meeting, Sally,” he replied.

That caught her attention. She blinked her wide brown eyes. “You called a meeting to introduce me to Ben?”

Jack arched an eyebrow. “Have a seat.”

She eyed Ben suspiciously again and waited for him to sit before taking the chair beside him.

“You’ve been pulling fourteen-hour days. Working weekends,” their boss continued. “You could’ve come to me sooner. You need some help.”

“It wasn’t a problem. It’s not a problem,” she corrected. “I’m preparing for a big trial. One that I’m perfectly capable of handling on my own.” She sent a pointed glare in Ben’s direction out of the corner of her eye. Cute.

“It’s not an insult to you.” Jack relocated a stack of files on his desk so he could lean forward to address her. “You know it’s policy that we have two attorneys on large cases. You’re so capable that I neglected to pay enough attention to the fact that you were going it alone for so long.”

Her jaw tightened, and she gripped the seat of the chair. “So what’s this mean?”

“I’ve asked Ben to help you out. Sit second chair. I figured you could get him acclimated to the office.”

“Show me the ropes. You know, where to find the pens, how to make the coffee.” He gave her what he’d hoped was a disarming smile, but she returned it with a glare.

“I like to do things my way, Jack,” she said slowly. “I don’t...play well with others.”

He shook his head. “It’s not negotiable, I’m afraid. The Kruger case is too large, and there’s too much media attention. I regret not giving you more resources sooner.”

Ben cocked his head toward her. “I look forward to working with you, Sally. We’ll make a great team.”

She gritted her teeth and said to Jack, “Are we finished? I have a busy day.”

“We’re finished. Thanks for your time.”

“Super.” She rose from her seat. Then she lifted the tray of coffees, twisted one free and set it before Jack, and proceeded to the door without another word.

As the sound of her angry footsteps receded down the hall, Ben was surprised to hear Jack chuckle under his breath. “What’s the joke?”

“Oh.” He waved his hand and leaned back in his chair. “Sally. You already know her, so I don’t have to tell you that she wears her heart on her sleeve.” He popped the top of the coffee she’d left for him and looked inside before taking a sip of the steaming beverage.

So that’s what that was: wearing her heart on her sleeve. Here Ben had thought she was acting bratty and rude. “Has she been working here for long?”

“Since the day she passed the bar.” The older man leaned back in his chair and opened the blinds behind his desk to allow some sunlight into the dark quarters. “Sweet girl and a hell of a lawyer. But when she gets upset about something... I don’t have to tell you,” he repeated, and dropped back into his seat.

“No. You don’t.”

Ben was all too familiar with Sally’s dramatic tendencies. In law school, she’d had near nervous breakdowns as a matter of routine before finals. She’d show up to the library in ratty jeans and an old sweatshirt, her hair unbrushed, looking as if she hadn’t slept in days. She would draw concern from their classmates with her dramatics and endless questions, and then she’d go on to earn one of the highest grades in the class. She’d routinely squandered the time and energy of those around her. He’d found it tedious.

Jack’s chair squeaked as he shifted forward again. “Anyway, don’t worry about her. You two will be working together on the Kruger case whether she likes it or not. There’s always a slew of work to be done during trial, and Sally doesn’t need to be a hero.”

“No, sir.”

“Funny. She sure got upset about you.” Jack’s bushy eyebrows rose mischievously. “Is there some history I should know about?”

Ben started. There was a history, all right, but not one their boss needed to know. Definitely not. “Like I said, we went to Columbia together. Same first year classes.” He coughed to politely signal a change in subject. “You mentioned that you had some other cases for me already.”

“I’ve got a stack of them. We had a retirement last month and everyone’s been helping out, but as far as I’m concerned they’re yours.” His new boss slid a piece of paper with several columns across the desk. “Here’s a table of the case names and file numbers and the attorneys you should speak with about the status.”

“Great.”

“I’m expecting big things from you, Ben. First in your class at Columbia, followed by an impressive military record. We’re lucky to have you here. Anything you need, you just let me know.”

“I appreciate that, sir.” He waved the list of cases and rose. “I’ll get started on these right away.”

Ben walked along the narrow hall, taking in the gray speckled carpet worn thin down the center, and the white walls marked with odd scuffs and smears of grime. He stopped in front of his office, which was located directly across from a cluster of gray cubicles, empty except for boxes of documents piled on and around the desks. The area hummed with the sounds of distant conversations and electrical appliances, but his was the only warm body in sight. Welcome to the neighborhood, he thought ruefully.

He stared into the hole of a room and wondered whether his office was a converted utility closet. That would explain the size. At least the window was large. He tugged at the strings of the dusty blinds, which rose with a squeal. The window may be large, but it looked out onto the back end of a bar. Working late nights meant he would likely have a front row seat to drunken brawls, which meant he’d be seeing familiar faces at bail hearings. That didn’t seem like a perk.

He dropped his leather briefcase near his desk with a thud. The wooden top was marred by thin grooves, he noted with a frown. A large blotter and calendar would cover up those scratches and dents, and at some point he might even forget about them. He looked around again, absorbing the fact that the walls needed a fresh coat of paint and the office chairs looked as if they needed fumigation. It was a place to work, that was all. He needed this start.

He may have grown up nearby, but Ben couldn’t say that he’d ever expected to land in a town like Bedford Hills. Returning to the area in which he’d started signified failure to him. Now that his mother’s health was declining, though, he needed to be close to her. He pressed his fingers between two slats of the dusty blinds.

He could admit there was something appealing about the quiet of the area. Nightlife consisted of a few downtown restaurants and bars, most of which closed by midnight. The old town had remnants of its farming roots, and aside from some of the downtown core and scattered subdivisions, properties in Bedford Hills were large and houses far apart. He could leave work and slip away into silence and solitude. He’d been raised a few towns away, but no one here knew him. He planned to keep it that way.

Except for Sally. She’d known him once, the old Ben, before he’d gotten his life together. He’d heard that she was working as a prosecutor, but he hadn’t realized she was stationed here. That made sense. If he remembered correctly, her family lived in the area, too.

He glanced around again. The office was claustrophobic, the view dingy. The desk was probably older than he was. Back when he was working on Wall Street, he’d had only the best of everything, and now he didn’t even have an administrative assistant. What had he been thinking, coming here? He’d never get used to this place.