The Attorney ✓( A White House occupants prequel)

Chapter Nineteen

The firm's been searching for a private investigator these past few days, so they can poke around and really get to the bottom of what happened. I interviewed two of them myself, only one of which showed potential: Twenty Four year old Sarah Ferguson, who's fresh out of training. We talked it over with the family too, and they had their reservations at first- until they learned she was top of her class and has worked with FBI Director Roberts, who's her stepfather.

  Life is funny like that. It has a way of connecting people that would normally have nothing to do with each other. Like where I work, for instance. Sam and I are not friends. We wouldn't have anything to do with each other in the real world, even though he's technically my boss and is more casual than most. Every now and then he acts like he has a stick up his ass. That unpredictability is what's made me despise him.

But as he stands in front of me now, Sarah Ferguson by his side, I can't help but compare the two. They are so, so different I want to laugh. She's about two feet shorter than him, and from the few minutes I've spent with her- has a personality so forward it would be off putting to most people, but I like it. She eerily reminds me of....Noelle.

  Sam's an amazing lawyer, don't get me wrong, and he's also pretty forward- but in a different way. Instead of blurting out whatever he's thinking, he'll try to feel the vibes of the room first.

  As his lips move and I try to force myself to listen, all I can think about is that damn interview, until Sarah catches my gaze and slaps me.

  "Ow-"

  "Oh boo boo. This is important. Sam would you like to repeat that?" She crosses her arms.

  Sam shakes his head. He's used to me barely listening to him by now, or only listening when I have to. I find his voice quite annoying, so wen he continues, I bite the inside of my bottom lip. The pain distracts me.

  "I said I'm sending you both to the New York City police station to threaten them into giving us the body cam footage." He repeats. "If you find The officer's supervisor you should be able to argue him into it. I'll leave it up to you two....what you do with the footage afterwards."

He doesn't have to say it for us to understand what he wants us to do with the footage.

"Shall we then?" I turn my attention to Sarah, who swings her purse over her shoulder and starts walking straight out the door. "Slow down-"

"Keep up. We don't want to waste any time on something like this." She interrupts.

"Of course not but we won't be any good if we're out of breath by the time we get there. Why don't we just take my car?" I suggest.

"The station is three blocks from here and I like walking." She ignores me. "Of course- I won't stop you if you want to take the car."

"No I'm....I'm good." I mumble.

"Then stop talking so we can get there faster." She says.

Okay.

She's almost the perfect coworker- minimal talking, has basically forced me to exercise which I need to do more of, and is a strong ass woman.

For the next eight minutes, we walk side by side in silence, only separating when another pedestrian needs to pass. Walking really has allowed us to slow down, so I don't understand her saying "we can't waste any time". It would've been much faster to take the car- in fact we'd be inside the building already, waiting on somebody to notice us.

I see a corner of the station peeking out from around a corner, and then when we go around it, we're greeted by a line of at least ten parked cop cars. I hold the door open for her just because she's a newer colleague, and she's not a permanent one- so I feel like I should show her more respect.