Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

“Sir—”

“Mr. Cole.”

“Right. Mr. Cole. I’m well aware and I’m sure my colleagues here are too of the innovative ways this firm runs. I’ve done a lot of research and I really think I have what it takes to blend in with the company.”

“Then you haven’t listened to what I’ve been saying. I don’t want you to blend in, I want you to stand out and have a voice. You all aced the bar, you wouldn't be here if you didn’t, so I’m expecting great things from you all.”

I can see the sweat rolling off them and one is lagging behind by the time we’re nearing the top. They’ve kept up though and not stopped like some of the last ones.

The hustle and bustle of the top floor as interns and junior associates flit in and out of offices makes me smile, but they all stop and clap as the interns come running to a halt one by one. Stacey, the only intern from last year to keep up with me, hands me and each one of the new interns a bottle of cold water. “Still at it, Mr. Cole?”

“Stacey.” I shake my head at her. “I’ve told you to call me Nate.”

“Wouldn’t feel right,” she says shrugging.

I chuckle and turn toward the flushed, sweating faces of the three interns. “Welcome aboard, guys. Don’t let me down.”

I nod toward last year's interns, this year’s junior associates, and they immediately file upon the three to show them toward the showers and give them a rundown on how everything works around here. My methods might be unorthodox and completely mad, but they never forget their first day and what we stand for. We’re like a family here and I’d like to keep it that way.

I like to give all of my worker bees a good working life. Being a lawyer can sometimes be stuffy. To the public we’re seen as boring and hard-faced, but I like to keep the workplace fun. Ever since we started to implement the healthy lifestyle program, we’ve won more cases and brought on more clients than ever before. Marina, my partner, was skeptical at first thinking it’d take time out of work and lessen productivity, but in actual fact it’s improved everything.

Everything everyone needs is right in this building. We have a food court with the best chefs and zero fast food in sight. You don’t have to eat there, but it saves going outside the office. We have the running track that can be used at lunch or in between meetings with our clients. There’s a gym, a mini spa, and a salon that each worker gets special points to use in every month. We take care of the people who work here so that they’ll take care of our reputation and clients.

Happy staff equals more productivity.

But as soon as someone abuses the system we’ve got going on here, they’re out. We have no time for lazy, unproductive people. You don’t

have to use the running track or the gym if you don’t want to, it’s not a rule of working here, but it’s there if they want to. We encourage a healthy lifestyle, not force it down people’s throats.

Pushing into my office, I shower and change, ready for a long day of clients, my first being a long-ass meeting discussing a top priority case.

On my way I grab a tray of sushi from the sushi bar in the food court and pull out my cell, typing out what feels like the hundredth message of the last three days to my supposed best friend, Tris.

Nate: You + me + beers = extremely drunk. Let’s make it a reality this weekend.

Nate: Tomorrow night, 8pm at Gillies. Be there or be square.

Nate: Hello from the other side. I must've called a thousand times.

Nate: Your severe lack of response makes me want to contact you more, jackass.

Nate: You better be extremely busy or have lost your cell to not message me back for three days. And I know you’ve seen them! The iPhone doesn’t lie!

I sit back in the comfy leather chair in conference room three. I’m the first one here so I take a deep breath and think about what the hell I can do to help my friend who doesn’t seem to want to be helped.

Does he know I know Harmony is back and haven’t told him yet? I shake my head, popping a piece of sushi into my mouth. No, he can’t. I do feel guilty for not telling him, I know as his friend I should warn him but it’s not my news to share. Plus, he’d ask questions as to how I know and I can’t break client confidentiality. I’m a professional before anything else.

I close the empty sushi box thinking I’ll tell him when her divorce is finally over and just say I ran into her in passing or something.

Before my mind can run away with me, the intercom in the middle of the table beeps before Tara’s voice comes over the line. “Mr. Cole, are you in there?”

I press the button to reply. “Sure am.”

“Finally, I’ve been trying to get you everywhere.”

“Just keeping you on your toes, Tara. Is everything okay?”

“Sure. I’m just letting you know Mr. Ryan is here for his one o’clock.”