Mr. Ellison likely forgot I even left. Even if he didn't, he won't think to worry. My case load is light and I'm looking for new recruits. I'm probably in a meeting with one now. What a joke.
Nearing the luxuriously appointed and painfully sterile-feeling apartment that I pay too much for, I glimpse an ad for a babysitter. Hastily taped to a tree, it's moist and running from the morning's gentle rain. I'll send a cleaning woman to take that down.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Jefferson" the doorman utters habitually. I receive it with an equally habitual nod. I have work to do.
I go quickly to my medicine cabinet, not out of hurry, just impatience. I need just one thing: aspirin.
YOU ARE READING
Criminal Law
Short StoryAlec Jefferson will do whatever it takes to move up in the cutthroat world of law, even to the point of breaking it.
