Dirty Working Hero (Hard Working Hero 2)

Here we go.

I grab the bag and push the door open. I walk through the lobby and take the elevator up to the firm’s floor. Dreads mounts as the elevator takes me higher, until the doors slide open to the firm’s reception. I give a wave to the secretary behind the impressively large desk. I've known her for years. Leslie Carmichael, a California native, and secretary for my father since I was two.

Her gray hair is permed and puffy, her lips are bright pink, and the apples of her cheeks are the same shade. Thick crow’s feet crinkle at the corner of her eyes as she smiles, each one a sign of another year gone by.

“Good morning, Ms. Chambers, your father told me you were starting today. Are you excited?”

“As excited as I'll ever be. And please, don't call me Ms. Chambers, just call me Millie.”

“If your father calls me out on that, I'm telling him it's your idea.” She laughs, her tone high as a cackle. “Well, let me give you some advice. A smile goes a lot further than an opinion. But,” she says, holding up her finger, “show enough smiles, and the people around you will start to ask and listen.”

“Is that right?” I ask.

“Absolutely. Your father never asked me for my opinion, and now, well, he almost never goes a day without needing it. Trust me, I know a thing or two.”

“I'll keep that in mind. Although I'm pretty sure I'll be at the copy machine all day.”

Leslie laughs again and shakes her head. “I don't think so, Millie. Your father wants you with him, he's got bigger plans for you than a glorified secretary.”

The phone rings, and she picks it up swiftly to answer. I give her another wave as I walk down the hall to my father's office. This office is huge compared to the one my father started in.

His first office was literally a single room he rented in a building right after college. His father pushed him to be a lawyer, even offered him a job at his firm, but my father wanted to do things his way.

We might not like the same things, but I'm a lot like my father. I don't want this; I want to do it my way.

Today, my father has ten lawyers working for him, and over a dozen paralegals. This office has five conference rooms, plus every attorney has an office of their own. He dabbles in a lot of different law fields, so many I can't keep track. He never wanted to put all his eggs in one basket, and it's worked for him.

He's proud of where he is, and he should be. I just wish he could be proud of where I want to be, and not force my hand into this. Maybe Leslie is right. Maybe if I smile and do what he asks, then one day he'll ask me what I really want, and finally be able to hear me.

I knock on his door. “Come in,” he says.

Pushing it open, I poke my head inside and smile. “Hey, Dad.”

He lifts his eyes up from the open file he has laid out on his desk. “You're late.”

I glance at the clock on his wall and arch a brow. “I'm right on time. It's nine.”

“Maybe that's on time in your hippie farming world, but here, we have higher expectations.”

“Maybe you should have told me that then. How am I supposed to know that when you told me nine?”

“Forget it, I don't have time for this. I have a meeting in five minutes and you're coming with me.”

“What? I thought my first day would be photocopying and printing out stuff for you.”

“Nope, I'm one person short today, so I need you to fill in. We have a few big cases going on, I need all hands on deck for them. This is something that shouldn't take too long.” He stands up from his chair and gathers his file. “Come on, let's head to the conference room.”

“All right,” I say, holding the door open for him as he brushes past me.

I follow him down the hall and into the room. He lays out his files on the table and takes a seat at the end. I take the seat next to him.

“So, what am I supposed to do?”

My father pulls a yellow legal pad out from under one of the files and slides it over to me. “You're taking notes. Write down everything. Today's date, the client’s name, and everything we discuss. You can abbreviate some things if you need to, and we can go back and fill in the gaps later.”

“Mr. Chambers, Ethan Thayer is here.” Leslie's voice comes through the small speaker at the end of the table next to my father.

“I'm ready for him. You can bring him down.”