Page 5 of Mika's Heart

Atka

Closing the files on my desk, I stack them neatly and ready them to be gone over by my employer, Taylor Burns.

I was lucky to land this internship with him a few weeks after law school while I prepare myself for the Bar Exam.

While our firm is really busy, Taylor makes sure that I always have time set aside each week for study.

Although I was top of my class in school, I’m worried about failure. Being an Alaskan Native, it’s important to me to represent my culture in the best possible light.

My brother, Eagle, is the President of one of the only motorcycle clubs here in Alaska.

I’ve never understood why he’s gone the direction that he has in life.

No one has ever been able to prove any differently, but I’m certain that the club does not always do things the legal way.

Legally or not, I still have faith that he at least does things that are just.

Hearing someone, I look up and see Taylor coming out of his office.

“Atka, I didn’t know you were still here. Are you packed for our trip to Montana?” He asks.

“Yes, sir.” I answer automatically.

“I’ve asked you to just call me Taylor.” He shakes his head.

“There’s not that much difference in our ages. Although I do feel like it sometimes.” He chuckles as we both head towards the front door.

“Sorry.” I shrug. “It’s a habit.”

“Arin and I are going out for dinner tonight if you’d like to come along.”

“I’d rather not be the third wheel. Besides, she may want you all to herself tonight before we leave.” I watch his face light up with thoughts of his wife.

I’ve never seen two people more in love than they are.

“Suit yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.”

We say goodbye, heading in opposite directions to our cars.

Mika

When Jan and I were making our grand plan, we didn’t realize how much higher everything would cost here in Alaska.

Wrapping my jacket tighter around me, I hurry to my hotel room with the bag of food that I bought at the grocery store.

After paying for my flight out here and a week's stay at the hotel, my funds are running super low.

So low that I’m watching every penny to the point that I’m living on ramen noodles cooked in a microwave.

I found Taylor’s practice the second day that I arrived but learned that he is currently gone on a trip to what they call the lower forty.

They didn’t say when he’d be back, so I’ve been there several times but have yet to see him go in or come out.

Unlocking the door to my room, I walk inside, locking it back behind me before putting my bags down on the bed.

Looking at what all I was able to buy with what I had, I know there’s no way to stretch this until Taylor returns and I have a chance to talk to him.

Not to mention, I’ll be out on the street in just a few days time without a way to pay for the hotel.

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