Chapter Text
Jeff was surprised, but not shocked, that Annie was in the office before he was. He'd woken up distressingly early, put on his best suit, stopped at the cheap twenty-four hour coffee shop to secure a supply of caffeine for himself and for her if she was there, and sauntered in with ten minutes to spare. Hopefully enough to get himself centered before the scheduled five in the morning call with Rebecca Bunch, Gustavo Vort's attorney at Skaro Djinn in New York.
"Good morning! I like your suit! I got us coffee!" Annie said brightly as he sauntered in. She was wearing a suit, too, a trim Ann Taylor number that flattered her figure. Not the same one she'd had on the day before, which meant she owned more than one. She looked good, hair and makeup, like she had gotten up even earlier than he had.
"First, thanks, you look great, especially for ungodly o'clock. I didn't think you were going to be here, what with the ungodly o'clock, but I got you coffee, too. In case." He held up the two coffees. "Second, why are you here and how did you get into my office?"
"Oh, Jason let me in." Annie cocked her head towards the disused nail salon where Jason lived. "You look good, too. Sorry, I said that already." She glanced down at the desktop in front of her, suddenly self-conscious.
Jeff winced. They needed to talk about... that ...but this wasn't the time. He wasn't sure how much of the attraction he felt to her was the result of her suddenly coming back into his life after half a year away, and he definitely wasn't sure how much that impacted whatever attraction to him she felt. Maybe it would be better just to ignore it. They'd made that work before. Years of dealing with Dean Pelton had etched on Jeff the importance of not constantly flirting with your disinterested friend, lest you be perceived as a bizarre pansexual satyr... Annie was still talking.
"His key fits your lock," she said. "And vice versa, probably. Maybe we need to change that. It was handy just now but we don't want him coming in, in the middle of the night and...I don't know, I was going to say use your computer but there isn't one here. We should get a computer."
"What do you mean, 'we?' Wait, Jason's up this early?" Jeff looked around warily, like Jason might leap from the shadows.
Annie shrugged. "I don't think he ever went to sleep. He'd been up for a while, anyway? Well, listen, we only have a few minutes. You were saying she's going to have a few other people on the call, to gang up on you? I was thinking I should be on the call, too. As your assistant. I'm taking notes, or something. Just so you aren't alone."
Jeff set his coffees down and picked up one of the ones Annie had brought. Soy latte, extra espresso. She'd sprung for the good twenty-four-hour coffee shop. "I don't know if that's necessary," he said. "I've already taken up too much of your time. There's doctors expecting you to buy them lap dances today, right?"
"I told you, I hate being a pharmaceutical rep and I'm quitting Futurza—" She broke off, shaking her head. "We don't have time for this right now. What's the game plan?"
"I tell Rebecca that my client, April Ludgate, has documentation proving she's married to her client, Gustavo Vort," Jeff said, ticking items off an imaginary list. "I tell her that April wants a divorce inasmuch as Gustavo Vort, in addition to being a tremendous asshole online—"
"Ugh, he's the worst," Annie muttered. "Did you see what he tweeted at that firefighter?"
Jeff pressed on because there wasn't time. "Gustavo Vort is planning on marrying international pop idol Duchess," he recited, "so it's in his interest to settle this divorce quietly and for much less than fifty percent of the ten billion dollars he claims to be worth. She makes an offer, I demand slightly more, we compromise, boom, April gets a million or ten and I get fifteen percent."
"A million or ten?" Annie repeated. "That's a lot of wiggle room, what—" She broke off when Jeff's cell suddenly buzzed. "They're early!"
Jeff swore under his breath. "212 area code," he said, looking at his phone. "Here we go…" He took a deep breath, and was unprepared for Annie to snatch his phone from his hands.
"I'm your assistant, I answer your phone," she said quickly, then before he could object, answered the call. "Jeffrey Winger, hero-at-law. This is Annie. How can we help?"