Good Pet

“Don’t forget, this job you’ve been dissing me over? It’s for one of the more prestigious companies in the country, to say nothing of the world,” I add, remembering what I’ve heard and seen about the plans for expansion. The expansions I’ve experienced already and in just such a short time.

“Okay,” says Dennis, “You get your little lawyers to come fight for you then, little girl. You make me pay for that hell I put you through.” He pauses, humming evilly. “Though I seem to remember you seeming to like all that hell. Screaming, begging, and crying for more, no matter what. No matter how many times I left you hanging, you would always come back for more. Treat me like I was just so good to you.”

My stomach sinks. My heart, mind, and soul come by another devious realization right then and there. He was cheating on you long before this girl, they say soberly, reverberating all this through all the chambers in my body. He was never faithful to you. Not really. All those times he was late coming home? All those times he was suddenly “busy”? All those times he seemed out of it when you were supposedly celebrating an important occasion? He was cheating on you then, too.

I feel weak in my stomach at this, but I don’t dare cry. I don’t allow myself to. Instead, I harden my jaw even more and say, “Well, you’ve finally shown me that you aren’t so good to or for me, and you might not be afraid of what’s coming for you now, but you will be. I have tons of great lawyers to choose from”— here I can think of no one but Tommy — “It’s just a matter of time before I can have paperwork served to you.” In my head, I make a mental note to make sure this paperwork gets to him on the anniversary of when we started going out. In late October.

Dennis just laughs at me and murmurs something to his girlfriend. Tinkerbell giggles again, but I don’t care for it. I just warn them both that those papers are coming for them, and hang up.

From there, I drive home.

I may not know much about law myself, but spending as much time in a big company as I have, I’ve picked up a couple key phrases and buzzwords, and I’m about to look those up to see just what I can get my ex-boyfriend to pay for. My heartache and his infidelity have to be worth something to a court, whether French or American.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Tommy

Since the disciplinary action Vanacore subjected me to in her office, over her desk at the end of last week, this following week has been a blur. It has been full of answering emails, compiling more notes, adding them to the database, and answering her phone more. Even though it’s at my desk, and something I’ve gotten used to even more, I still don’t like it. I don’t feel like I’m really getting to use any of my knowledge and skills as an associate lawyer by acting as a secretary.

While it’s still better than being stuck down on the legal aids’ floor, it’s a bit of a letdown. It also feels like more punishment. A less physical version, for not being “obedient” or “following orders” enough, even though I didn’t think I belong to her in that way. Sure, I’m her assistant, but I wasn’t under the impression that I was hers and hers alone, as in her mentee.

But after getting caned by her, I don’t trust myself to say or do anything other than what I’ve been told. Other than what I’ve been instructed.

So, I’m going to get meals for her. I skimp on meals for myself throughout the whole week, even though I can see Melissa watching me worriedly.

Each time I’ve gone in and out of the office this week to go get Vanacore lunch, I see the way Melissa looks at me returning so soon after I left. Returning with only a small bag of food in hand. Though I try not to make eye contact with her, I see how worried she is. How concerned she is. I know she wants to talk to me. I know she wants to ask me what’s going on and whether I’m taking care of myself in any way, but I can’t.

And it’s not just because Vanacore would have a problem with it if she knew; that’s part of it, but there’s a bigger part. A more important one. I’m also her boss, and as her boss, it’s unfair of me to burden her with my problems or with my issues. I should be strong enough, big enough, old enough to deal with them on my own. I shouldn’t have to go running to a secretary, a friend of mine, because of anything like this.