Good Pet

She looks to her male counterpart, not surprised that he’s only giving a cursory glance to anything I provided. “What do you think, Mr. Smith?”

My stomach drops as I realize the third person across from me is Ashton Smith, one of the CEOs.

Chapter Seven

Tommy

“Tommy,” says Ashton, swiveling his office chair slightly, “I’d like to begin this interview with a simple question. Why work for Ms. Vanacore? Why this position?”

He looks at my resume.

“You’ve worked on the legal assistants’ floor for almost five years and have become a sort of ‘lead’ among the people working there. I talked to a lot of your coworkers, and they said you do a good job. You are not always the most personable, but a lot of them said they rely on you heavily and look to you for guidance.”

They look to me to do their work is more like it, I think, but I don’t say that out loud. It doesn’t matter, though, because Vanacore sees something. She gives me a kind of strange, knowing smile as if she’s run into those kinds of people before as well.

I look away from her, saying, “Yes, I suppose you could say that. I’m one of the more responsible people on that floor, I think, so if they are looking to me for guidance, that’s why. I often have to remind others of what they are supposed to be doing and how they are supposed to be doing it.”

Charlotte nods.

“How do you feel about that? Do you enjoy being their go-to?”

“Not really,” I say, surprised by my own honesty. “I mean, I’m grateful that I’ve had the opportunity to be able to work for this company as long as I have, but it’s not really my job to be telling other legal assistants how to work properly.”

Vanacore chuckles at this, whistles, and murmurs something under her breath. Something I think sounds like, “hot one there,” but I can’t be sure.

Ashton frowns and swivels in his chair again. Charlotte smiles knowingly and nervously.

“Of course,” she says. “I don’t think I would enjoy doing something that was outside my job description, especially if I wasn’t getting paid enough to do those types of tasks.”

I blush, feeling sweaty. The financial motive insinuation she’s just made is not lost on me.

“It’s not about the money so much,” I say, not sure if that’s entirely true. “I just want out of there. I want to be utilized better.”

I clear my throat, feeling it go dry and papery.

“I’ve been applying to various open positions under lawyers for the past year or so,” I add, surprised that I’m even adding this and being so forthright. “Ever since we got all the new mergers and partnerships and everything, I’ve been applying to openings, hoping that I would get my chance to show off my skills and use those skills to help out a lawyer, but I keep getting passed over.”

Here, it’s Vanacore and her “poor baby” kind of noise that grabs my attention and puts it back on her.

“Isn’t that the way of it, Tommy? Those of us who are legitimately skilled, we always end up getting passed over for things, and by people with not nearly as much talent or commitment?”

By the edge in her voice, I know she’s speaking from personal experience. By the steely, dull darkness in his eyes, I know she’s gone through pain over it.

“And all because of silly things. Like how we look. Who we love, what we desire.” “Look,” “love,” and “desire” are charged words in her mouth. So charged, that they cause some kind of electric or static shock to go through me.

Somehow, I have landed on her radar, and it’s not something I’m sure I like.

“Tell me, Tommy. What do you desire? If you could have any kind of growth, any kind of reward for your hard work, for your diligent study and your commitment to the law, what would it be?”

The way Vanacore appraises me as she asks these questions makes me feel naked and exposed.

“I want a chance,” I say, working to steady my voice.

It’s begun to shake, along with my hands.

“I want an opportunity to do some real work. To serve in a noticeable capacity and get away from being a nobody. All those other legal aids down there, they all want to be somebody too, but they don’t want to put in the work. They haven’t put in the work, and they’re not going to.”

Surprisingly, my rage starts to come through. The volume in my voice goes up, as does the heat. I actually have to work to cool it down some before I speak again.

“They expect something for nothing. They expect me to do work they won’t do, and then act like I won’t ever amount to anything.”

Vanacore frowns. She gets a semi-dangerous look in those gray-blue eyes of hers. Again, they’ve almost turned silver under some ringlets of her white, wizard-like hair.