Ezra Allen - the boss of the leading law firm in the entire country, hires a straight-out-of-college girl, who's just trying to get a job and gain some experience.
Working with her leads to falling for her, but she's his secretary. One work trip l...
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I half-expected Ezra to tell me to my face how I didn't get the job, just to rub it in, but he didn't. He taught me the software, so actually working will be smooth. I have no reason not to work, I need the money.
My apartment needs some renovation. It's pretty run down. It's just inside the legal requirements, ironic, seeing as I now work for a law firm.
Before I made my way home, I took a round around the office, getting to know some of the other people working here. I head home, excited to call my friend, Amelie, about my new job.
On my way home, I yet again admire the city. It's an amazing neighborhood, despite my apartment building being run down. The entire thing needs remodeling, but the landlord can't afford it.
So legally, rent is very cheap. It has to be, or else he isn't allowed to rent it out. I unlock the door to the building, closing it behind me. The auto lock clicks.
The stair railings are hanging onto one lousy screw on each end, but it still kind of functions. I open my mailbox, seeing some bills. Guess it's time again. I grab them, locking the box.
I make my way up the stairs, the fluorescent lighting dim. The lightbulbs barely work anymore, but no one bothers to replace them.
The floors are sticky, with God knows what. The walls are a pale yellow with white trims. I head up the second staircase, seeing my front door.
I can't wait to lay down on my couch, and binge watch my favorite series, Friends. I unlock the door to the small, one bedroom apartment.
Sunlight still shines in through the windows, and looking outside, I see Allen Law Firm. I hadn't noticed how well I could see it from my apartment before I actually started working there.
I head to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and dropping down on the couch. I unlock my phone, heading into contacts to call Amelie. I dial, and she answers fast.
"Hey Mabel! What's up? How'd the interview go?" she asks quickly.
"Hi, I didn't get it," I say and she sighs. "But the boss offered me another job. Working directly under him,"
"Oh my God, Mabel! That's huge! This is an amazing opportunity for you! Oh my God! Next time I'm in town we'll have to celebrate!" Suddenly the mood shifts, as we both remember the reason she had to move.
"I promise, it'll be soon," she says, trying to lighten the mood.
"You know, dad's in remission now, it might be earlier than you think. Besides, insurance will cover an at home nurse for him, so he doesn't have to depend on me,"
Amelie's parents divorced when she was a couple of years old. Her mom is adoring, and ever since my mom passed, she's been like a mom to me. Her dad was unfortunate, and was diagnosed with cancer at stage three.
Around last year, Amelie started losing hope, before the doctors mentioned a trial he was qualified to attend. It got him into remission.
"That's great Amelie! What's your plans for when he's healthy again?" I ask. One thing I learnt when I lost my mom was to never say 'if' always, always, say 'when'. It proves you're not losing hope.
"I haven't decided yet, I want to move back, but I don't know how I'll feel, knowing I'll be hours away if something happens to dad," she says.
"I understand you, it's still not decided whether he's safe to go home either, so you have time to make the decision. Also given you have to find a qualified nurse to help him," I say.
"I know, I probably should start looking soon. Before I know it, he's cleared to go home, and I'm not sure how long I can care for him on my own," she finishes.
"I love him to death, but I don't want to risk getting him worse," she says.
"Amelie, you can't make him worse, cancer is a genetic disease. Your genes decide whether you'll get cancer, a couple fails during your treatment, at home, won't make him any worse than the hospital will," I explain. I can sense her nodding, and feel the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"God, I know, I'm just scared, you know? You understand," she says. I do. I do understand, mom was in remission when they found another tumor that wasn't noticed initially. It was too late. She passed only a couple weeks later.
"I do, but just because things didn't go well with my mom, doesn't mean it will with your dad. They surgically removed his tumors, and also checked to see if it hadn't spread. I'm confident he'll pull through," I said.
"Thank you, Mae, you're an amazing friend through all this," she's using the nickname she gave me in fourth grade.
The one she uses when she doesn't feel confident all goes well. The one she used when her parents were back and forth dating, during the break ups.
It tore her apart as a kid. She's the strongest woman I know, but she's been strong for too long. It will come back to bite her in the ass one day. And soon.
