Chasing Innocence | ✓

53 | job offerings

Davina sits behind her desk, heeled feet thrown up against the surface in front of her as she reclines in her chair.

For a hot-shot lawyer, she sure seems calm today. She's balancing the landline between her ear and shoulder, chatting animatedly to the person on the other end. She offers me a small wave, before gesturing to the armchair in front of her.

"Okay. Yes, I know. You too! Yes, speak soon. Bye," she smiles, before ending the call.

"Rhea!" she beams, clasping her hands together on the desk. "You cannot imagine the morning I've had."

"Oh?"

"Three new clients," she grins. "Seems they were happy with my job at — or lack thereof, really — not putting Braxton in prison. Apparently that's the case making me a worthy opponent," she snorts.

She waves her hands around, moving on. "Nonetheless, they're clients."

"Well, congrats," I smile, tapping the arm of the chair. "That's...great."

"You're confused," she nods. "Wondering why I asked you in on your day off?"

"Well, I mean, a little? But that's—"

"With all these new cases coming up, I'm going to need an assistant. Someone I can trust. Someone I actually like," she scoffs. "Someone like you."

"Me?" I say breathless.

A wave of unease takes ahold of me. She trusts me. She believes I'm a good person. Maybe I was once, but now I know so much more than she ever will. That I was lying to her face just by allowing her to believe that Matthew was guilty.

"I love your dedication to your work. How you've stayed quiet, but attentive — just how a good assistant should be. None of that talking back, overly bubbly personality bullshit. I need someone real."

"Real?"

I sound like a goddamn parrot at this point.

Her brows soften as she clears her throat. "I hope you don't mind, but after — and I promise it was after — I hired you, I did some... searching. Made sure you didn't have a criminal record and all the important things like that. But it also lead me to the story of your parents."

"...oh," I whisper.

"I'm so very sorry that ever happened to you. But the fact that you're here now, the fact that this is what you want for your future, it showed me how strong you are. I need someone like that around here. It's a cut-throat environment."

I blink back tears as I look at her. "I wish you hadn't," I say honestly. "I've always preferred new people in my life to stay unaware. It makes me less of a charity case."

"A charity case?" she laughs. "After the way you handled Braxton? You never showed your fear around him. Maybe you could have been less reserved in the beginning and fiery towards him, sure. But you never backed down. The last thing I'd ever do is pity you."

The honesty within her expression only makes me feel worse. Her she is, allowing me to see the person she truly is. Whilst I, on the other hand, am doing nothing but lie.

I'm in so deep that all I can do is keep crawling until I find my way forward. There is no turning back.

"I don't know," I say. "I don't know if I'm worthy of the position."

Her eyes soften as she tuts. "None of that crap. I thought you said you hated pity? Nothing worse than self-pity."

She raises an eyebrow, tapping her manicured hands against the desk. She brushes a strand of black hair behind her ear, cocking her head as she smirks.

"Touché," I smile softly. "How would this work, though? I'm still studying, so I—"

"It's only a part time position. You can just give me your class schedule for next semester and I'll work around that."

I hear Maia in my head as I feel myself edging towards accepting the role. I know she'd tell me not to take it, that my mental state is more important than any career.

But honestly, when have I ever listened to something Maia has said? No point starting now.

I don't meet her gaze as I watch my hands clasped together in my lap. I can feel the moral confliction, knowing that I'm lying but knowing how great this opportunity will be for my post graduate career.

Working as an assistant for Davina Jenkins? People would kill for the role.

Maybe I'd actually get a chance at helping people like Casey, who deserved better than the lives they'd been given.

Despite everything that is unfolding, a small ball of hope begins to unwind in my chest for the first time in forever.

"I'd love to be your assistant," I blurt, before I can psych myself out. "Of course."

She beams, clapping her hands together. "Great! There's just some paperwork to sign and then you can be on your way."

She withdraws a folder, sliding me a pen as I read through the documents.

Once I'm finished, she shakes my hand in a firm grip. "Exciting times ahead, Rhea."

"Yeah," I gulp. "Definitely."

I pick up the bag I'd left by the chair, thanking her again as I walk towards the exit.

"Oh, and Rhea?"

I stop, turning around to face her as she watches me with sudden amusement. "Hmm?"

"Say hi to Brax for me," she snickers, flipping through the paperwork I'd signed nonchalantly.

My stomach dips from her words, wondering how to work my way out of this situation. "Wha—"

"You think I don't notice things?" She smirks. "There's a fine line between love and hate, Miss Thurman. One thing you definitely need to work on is your poker face."

She laughs quietly, muttering something about kids these days as if she isn't barely more than a decade older than me.

I pretend not to be shocked as I hide my awkward smile, shouldering open the glass door as I hear her laughter grow fainter as I walk towards the exit.