FiFty Fifty

Chapter twelve

KATE
In the ladies' bathroom on the fourteenth floor of the building that housed Levy, Bernard and Groff, Kate tucked the collar of her blouse beneath the lapels of her jacket. It was coming up on two o'clock in the afternoon and she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She was hungry, but too focused to stop for food.
Checked her reflection.
She hit the faucet, washed and dried her hands.
Checked her reflection again. She touched up her lipstick. Breathed out,
nodded and left.
Kate made her way to the conference room, which had been commandeered
for the attorneys working on the Avellino case. Levy had described this as the 'war room' and sure enough a battle was raging when Kate opened the door.
A long table filled with open law books, case reports, laptops, coffee cups, legal pads and pencils took up the center of the room. The group had been working all morning, discussing the discovery and potential strategies. They had to be ready to present their ideas to Levy the next morning. Levy let it be known, none too subtly, that whoever had the best work would likely be awarded second chair at the trial. Kate wanted that seat more than anything. This was her moment, and she wasn't going to let it pass. All the shit that came with the job would be worth it if she was sitting beside Levy in that trial. It was all that she could think about. The group in the room already had a head start as Kate had missed the morning session. She had now read the discovery and was up to speed. It didn't pass her by that Levy had deliberately kept her out of the office by giving her the morning off to collect her thoughts. While this put her behind in terms of work, seeing Bloch and her dad that morning had been exactly what she'd needed.
Around the table sat Scott, an empty chair beside him to which Kate returned, and on the other side of the room were three attorneys from litigation who had previously worked in the criminal department. All of them were male, all wore expensive suits that looked too tight and ties that were way too thin. They had given their names to Kate as Chad, Brad and Anderson. They didn't offer to shake hands, but one of them, Brad, hit Scott with a fist bump. She didn't know if Anderson was a first name or last name. It didn't matter. Brad, Chad and
 
Anderson looked as though they shared the same bleached-blond personality. Jocks with rich parents and trust funds.
Kate returned to the stack of papers in front of her – a potted history of the Avellino family with more details on Alexandra and Sofia. The more Kate read, the more she was convinced that Alexandra was the functioning, organized sibling who had her shit together and her life on track from a young age. While Sofia was a disaster with bouts of drug addition, rehab stints, counseling and more than one intervention regarding her destructive behavior. It made Kate feel good to know that she was obviously representing the innocent sister, but with that knowledge came weight.
The burden of proving guilt beyond a reasonable doubt lay with the prosecution, but the burden of having an innocent client on trial for murder was a much heavier one.
Innocence weighs a ton.
'Let's blue-sky this case. Enough reading, already. We've got forty-one days and counting to lodge our motions with the court. We need discovery, motions for dismissal, and a severance motion. What've you got, dogs?' said one of the blond suits. With her focus on the case, Kate had forgotten which of them was which. She thought that might have been Anderson.
Scott said, 'Anderson, don't use that language here. We're not all dogs, there's a lady present.'
She was right, it was Anderson who had taken charge of the group and was asking for ideas. Anderson fixed Scott with an expression that said – really?
'Alright, alright,' said Anderson, 'dogs and bitch. Is that better?'
One of the suits high-fived Anderson, the other was laughing so hard he was doubled-over on his chair. Kate glanced to her side, saw Scott trying to hold in a laugh, and failing.
Kate felt the blood flooding the skin around the base of her neck like a heat rash. Her skin was prickly, and alive.
Anderson must've seen her reaction because he put both hands out in front of him, palms up, like he was trying to stop a speeding car coming toward him, 'Woah, I'm really sorry. I don't mean any kind of offence. It's just our sense of humor – absolutely nothing to do with you, personally.'
Chad, Brad and Scott calmed down and all of them apologized, with smiles on their faces – none with a single drop of sincerity. They apologized because they had to.
'He's really sorry,' said Scott.
'I am, too. So is Brad,' said the one who must've been Chad.
'Me too,' said Anderson fighting down another bout of laughter. Brad, who