Page 3 of Objection
“And all that work made it so you couldn’t at least text?” He finally turned his face towards me, the heat and anger in his eyes making me look down. He wasn’t wrong. I could have — no, I should have — texted him at the very least. “Zee, I was here, waiting for dinner like I told you.”
“I know, I know we had plans, and, again, I’m sorry, but it was out of my control with work. You could have had dinner at your place, you know.” I knew my attitude was not the best, but I was exhausted after the day I’d had. I didn’t want to take it out on him, and I should have called him, but it wasn’t the end of the world.
He stood up from the couch after a few minutes and came around to face me.
“Okay. Sorry,” he said with a smile. He hugged me close, and I felt a little better. At least he wasn’t still frustrated with me.
“So, what did you have?” I asked, my stomach grumbling loudly.
“I ordered something. You’ll have to make your own dinner.” I tried not to slump my shoulders. Would it be so hard for him to fix dinner? “But I’ll sit with you while you cook, and you can tell me about your day.”
The smile he gave me made it better.
“Okay, so you know how today was the day the partners were going to choose the new partner, right?” I began.
“No, but go on.”
I tried not to roll my eyes at his poor memory skills.
“Okay, well, I was right. Mr. Wellington was completely passed over, and they made Mr. Dalton partner. It’s a total crap call. Mr. Dalton is still a fairly new lawyer despite his age.” I threw together a quick sauce while a package of noodles boiled. It wasn’t gourmet, but it would do.
“Why do you say that? With age comes wisdom. Sounds like a good call to me,” David reasoned. I shook my head, stirring the sauce as both pots began to bubble.
“Not in this sense. To make partner takes a certain level of effort and prestige. Mr. Dalton just hasn’t done it. Mr. Wellington has; in spades,” I explained further.
“Sounds like you have a thing for this Mr. Wellington.” David’s tone changed a little deeper and a little sharper.
“Oh god no! He’s an arrogant prick! But he works hard and not only has he been a lawyer for longer, but he’s also been with the firm longer. It was a shit move to overstep him for partner, but then again, it wasn’t my choice.” David came up behind me, kissing the back of my head as I finished cooking my dinner.
“That’s right, dear. It’s not your choice, so put it out of your pretty head.” I tried not to let his words get to me.
“You’re right. I don’t need to worry about it anymore. At least I don’t have to worry about him anymore. He quit. I couldn’t believe it.” I drained the pasta quickly before pulling a bowl from the cupboard for myself. David was right behind me, taking the bowl and replacing it with a smaller one.
“This is a better one for this dish, dear,” he explained, kissing me on the cheek before pulling his cell phone back out and walking back to the couch, obviously done with our conversation. I rolled my eyes, but made my bowl of spaghetti, adding a good shake of sprinkled parmesan cheese on top. Oh, well. I wasn’t that hungry, anyway. It was Friday, and I was grateful to have two whole days away from the office in the aftermath of the Great Wellington Walkout. I smirked as I ate another bite of pasta and took comfort in the fact that I’d never have to work with him again.
* * *
Ms. Adams,
In light of recent events, I have opted to open up my own law firm. I would like to meet with you, at your earliest convenience, to discuss the possibility of your employment with my new firm, Wellington Law. Presently, I have the following openings in my schedule to meet with you, should you be amiable to such a position:
1. Monday, April 12, 2021, 1:45 p.m.
2. Wednesday, April 14, 2021, 11:00 a.m. or 1:15 p.m.
3. Thursday April 15, 2021, 10:00 a.m.
I am aware that you will be working during these hours and, should you be agreeable, would suggest that we meet somewhere near the office for lunch. If the above appointment times do not work for your schedule, please let me know at your earliest convenience so that we may review our mutual availability to discuss your potential employment with Wellington Law.
Respectfully,
Soren Wellington
When I had first receivedthe email late on Saturday night, the shock had floored me to the point that I choked on the water I was drinking. And by choked, I mean that I spat out a full mouthful of water against my kitchen cabinets and forgot how to breathe correctly for a solid minute.
At first, I had been shocked. Then I laughed for a long time about the absurdity. Then, I considered it. Then I brushed the notion off. Then I came back to it again. In the end, I sat down to talk about the option with David. He had not taken that well. In my brain, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the upwards trajectory of my career with Farley, Cooper & Upton was a stunted one at best. At some point, I was going to need to switch to another firm; preferably one with tremendous room for growth and potential. Working for Mr. Wellington would be a chore. He was a pill and a half of irritation.
I had no issue with staying a paralegal, but there needed to be some incentive for me to continue. Something to keep that spark of drive alive and flourishing. My career at Farley, Cooper & Upton already had me feeling like I was floundering after only five years. I had to admit, there was an excitement at the prospect of working for a brand-new firm and helping it grow from the ground up. Even if that firm was owned by Soren Wellington.
