Chapter Text
Chapter I: The Interview
“You got this” my friend T shook me by my arm reassuringly as I stared out the window and bit my nails. My leg was shaking spastically under the table as I continued to try and process what I was about to do.
We sat in a shitty New York diner opposite the building of Parker and Whitmore, the place where T worked, and the place where today I was going to shoot my shot at getting a job too. I stared down at my brown paper file organizer in front of me trying to steady my breath. In the big 2026, here I was, fucking stupid enough to risk it and try and get a job in person.
In our defense, we thought this plan out perfectly. T was a true one of a kind friend who helped me set this whole thing up. In actuality, it was her idea. Mark Sanchez, one of the firms youngest partners, working in Criminal Defense and Government Investigations was our target. For weeks we stalked his every move, T from the office, me from the street, tracking his routine. Every morning at 10:18 on the dot he would make his way down from his office to the bagel and coffee stand right outside, getting the same thing every time, and standing there for 3 minutes and 39 seconds chatting with Miguel, the vendor. That’s where I was going to corner him.
I glanced down to check the time on my phone, 10:15. Another deep breath. I looked at T who had not a lick of worry on her face, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “You got this,” she repeated again “you know exactly what you’re going to say, you’re hot, you’re smart, you’re qualified.” I wouldn’t call myself an anxious person, but right now I was a nervous wreck and glad that at least one of us was staying positive.
“Yeah barely, qualified.” I muttered back, taking a big glug of my water, trying to get rid of the sand papery feeling beginning to form on my tongue.
“Snap out of it or I’ll slap you out of it.” She said, sternly but warmly enough that I could tell she’s trying to help. “Regardless of how it goes, I’ll take you out after this. Tequila shots on me today, okay?”
I nodded back, forcing a smile. 10:16. Another deep breath. I got up from the table, gripping onto the paper folder like my life depended on it. The heat outside didn’t help the situation, as I got hit by the warm September air, the mix of fading summer and that lovely big city odor filling my nostrils. The light turned green, T gave my hand one last final squeeze, and smacked my ass “Go get it girl!” She yelled as I speed walked as fast as I could in my pencil skirt and T’s borrowed heels (which were a size too small) to make it to the other side. 10:17. I stood there, sweat pooling in my palms to the point that I thought it would leave a stain on folder, heart pounding out of my chest so hard I thought it was going to jump out of my throat.
I looked down at my watch, 10:18. Like clockwork, the sliding doors of Parker and Whitmore opened and a charming man in his early 40’s made his way down the stairs. Slicked back curly hair, a baby blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, so expensive that I could tell it cost more than my entire outfit from 50 meters away. A shirt a size too small, probably on purpose to make the muscles in his arms pop. Boy did they pop. I nodded and muttered a cluster of syllables to myself as I made my way towards the bagel stand.
“Bacon egg on plain and black coffee” I heard Sanchez say as he handed the vendor a 20, waving his hand after as a sign for “no need for change”. As he moved out of the way, I was next in line.
“Ma’am?” The vendor said? Right. I swallowed and said as calmly as possible.
“The same please.” My voice came out just right, just as I wanted it to, which helped me boost my confidence. The vendor nodded. From the corner of my eye I could see Sanchez give me a small smile and a nod of approval. Exactly what I was looking for.
I paid and let a little bit of time pass, not wanting to seem too obvious. Sanchez was glued to his phone, probably reading something lawyer-y and important. Last final breath. Ok, next step. Now or never.
“You work here right?” I said, with a big fat smile on my face, gesturing a hand up at the building, my voice slightly flirty but no too obvious. He looked up from his phone, first at me, then at the direction my finger was pointing in.
“Uh, yeah” he cleared his throat “Criminal Defense. You?”
“Not yet,” I said, cocking my head back playfully “But I’m about to start soon.” It was clear that my answer piqued his interest.
“Is that so?” He asked, looking at me while reaching with one hand to grab his coffee, “You a lawyer?”
“Paralegal,” I answered confidently, “A pretty good one too.”
“Huh,” he said, scanning me up and down, “And which department hired you?”
“My hope is yours.” I said, starring right at him now, and taking a step closer. His smile faded. He starred down at his coffee, mildly agitated. But I was on a roll now and not about to let one negative look deter my from my mission. I cleared my throat and took another step towards him.
“I have a bachelors from NYU in an unrelated field but I took the Paralegal Certificate Program and aced all my tests with flying colors. I did two internships at Manhattan District Attorney’s Office and a criminal defense firm. I also have about twenty references in here that you can call and they’ll tell you what a badass I am.” I stuck out my hand holding the folder with my life whole summary and requisites I worked my ass off.
He stared down at the folder and then at me. All of the amusement had left his face.
“So that’s how you guys do it now then?” Thats not the answer I wanted. I didn’t have time to say anything. “Corner guys while they try and take a five minute break and hope that since you’re pretty he’ll cave and give you the fucking job?”
I scoffed. “Did you not hear a word I just said?” He just stared back at me. In a matter of seconds I felt the nervousness turn to anger. All insecurities aside one thing I wouldn’t let a guy do is tell me I didn’t work hard enough for what I wanted. Undermining all my hard work and using my looks against me was a classic low and one I wouldn’t take.
“Twenty references,” I repeated. “Internships at Manhattan District Attorney’s Office and a criminal defense firm. I’ve put in more effort than probably half the losers up there with their lawyer daddies and set up trust funds. I’m fucking good at what I do and I’d kick ass on your team.” I felt my face getting hotter.
“Yeah kickass, badass, I get it. Why don’t you go bother someone else and improve your vocabulary while you’re at it.” He scoffed, shoving past me as he began to walk away. My blood was boiling now. Not even… whatever’s worse than boiling it was doing that. Years of studying, working, blood sweat and tears. Scouting this guy out, planning and plotting with T all for it to go down the drain in 45 seconds without this jerk even opening my fucking folder. With one final trick up my sleeve I took a breath and said.
“Mi vocabulario está de puta madre, pedazo de imbécil!” I din’t turn around but I heard his footsteps stop, he turned slowly?
“What did you just say to me?” There was a smidge of amusement in his tone under a heavy layer of shock. There I thought, wouldn't expect a blonde pretty bimbo to cuss you out in Spanish now would you?
“Me has oído perfectamente, pendejo.” I snapped back, turning to face him, “Y ya que parece que te cuesta tanto oír, a lo mejor deberías dejar de gastarte la pasta en esos pantalones tan feos y comprarte un par de oídos nuevos.”
That got me a chuckle and a smile. There was a moment of silence.
“I know you just won Sierra Biopharma as I client,” I continued, seizing the opportunity to pitch myself, “I know they’ve got Spanish-speaking executives and witnesses, and I know you need people on your team who can actually talk to them. And if you head wasn’t so far up your ass, maybe you could pull it out for just a second and actually look at my resume.” He stared me down for what lasted like forever, then at his coffee, then slowly walked back towards me.
“Give me the folder,” he said reaching out his arm, and placing his coffee in my free hand for me to hold. I did so instantly. He flipped through the folder, scanning over every word on the pages quickly but carefully, gears turning in his brain.
“Where’d you learn Spanish?” He asked, not looking up from the page.
“Lived in Spain for three years,” I said “Worked as an English teacher.” He nodded.
“Any other cool languages or tricks up your sleeve?”
“French and Portuguese. Thought about picking up Mandarin too but thought that might be overkill.” I said and that earned my another smile.
“I’m not always a dick, you know.” He said meeting my eyes, looking a little bit apologetic. I nodded, accepting his apology. He scanned the pages over once more.
“Your profile looks good. Really. Even though we usually look for a background in criminal justice or basic law if you want to work in the criminal defense.” There was a pause. “But maybe I can let it slide.”
“Really?” I said
“You sound surprised.”
“I am.”
“I thought you said you were more than qualified.”
“I am.”
He stared at me. I stared back, not breaking eye contact. I wasn’t gonna loose this ‘whose dick is bigger” match. After I while he closed the folder and handed it back to me.
“Alright, come back tomorrow, 9 am. Tell the front desk you’re coming to see me, we’ll set up an interview just as a formality.”
“As a formality.” I repeated. He nodded.
“But don’t be late and be ready to start as soon as I need you. If you can’t you’re done.” He pointed a warning finger at me.
“But basically I’m hired right?” I said with a cocky smile, knowing I was pushing my luck.
He chuckled, brushing his finger over the top of his coffee cup.
“Sure, if you wanna call it that. But tell anyone in the office or any of your friends I caved for this little trick of yours and you’ll be fired on the spot.” I held up a hand as if taking an oath.
“My lips are sealed, scouts honor.” He held out my folder. I reached out a hand to grab it, but he pulled it back before I could. He took a step closer, staring in my eyes.
“Y vuelve a hablarme así, y me voy a asegurar de que no vuelvas a conseguir trabajo en ningún lugar del estado de Nueva York.” I took a big breathe and nodded multiple times.
He let go over the folder, gave me a nod and started walking away.
“9 am tomorrow,” He yelled back at me, “and bring a bagel!”
I nodded. Hired. That word shot through me like an icepick as I watched him disappear behind the glass doors. I stood there for a while like an idiot, forgetting completely about my bagel and coffee, staring at the high-rise in front of me. I felt a buzz in my pocket and pulled out my phone to a text message from T.
“Bitch what the fuck happened??? I can’t tell from here??? Good shots bad shots? I need to know.”
Before I could text back an answer I spun around, running to the nearest garbage can I could see and threw up everything I ate that morning. Coffee, eggs, toast and all. My one hope was I didn’t get it on T’s shoes.