Page 27 of Pleading Innocence

However, it was clean and welcoming when I stepped inside. Brown leather seats and hanging tranquil art with hues of blue and green lined the waiting area.

“Welcome to Bronkers & Associates, how may I assist?” the young receptionist, who looked not much older than I was, said with a brilliant smile. Her makeup was flawless and she batted delicate faux lashes at me.

“Hi,” I said, beaming, mirroring her smile. “I’m Tiffany Levine and I am here to interview as an associate lawyer?” I said on a question, still hoping that it wasn’t a fluke somehow or that I’d been called by accident.

“Right,” the beautiful brunette with her half-up and half-down, shoulder-length hair said to me. “Please take a seat and she’ll be right with you.”

She. I hadn’t been paying much attention to the conversation when I received the call. I just heard “Are you available for an interview…” and the word yes was on the tip of my tongue before the person stopped talking. As I waited, I tapped my French-manicured nails in excitement. She. So far, I hadn’t stepped in and grabbed the attention of anyone. The receptionist treated me with nothing but respect and I was being interviewed by a woman. The chances of me being attracted to a woman were slim. I found women attractive, but in all my twenty-one years, I’d never thought of wanting to be with the same gender. Then again, before I’d met Mario and Anthony, I didn’t think much about the opposite gender either.

In walked a woman wearing closed-toe, four-inch pumps over sheer black pantyhose, a fitted knee-length business suit, and a jacket that had a flair at the hips. Her jacket was buttoned up to the neck and the suit did well to amplify her small waist and wide hips. Yet she was nothing but professional in the way she looked at me, with her pretty makeup and pixie-cut hair with bangs. She was stunning but there was no doubt about her professionalism. No one would be mistaken into not taking her seriously with the way she held herself and the expression she wore on her face. And alas, there was no buzz in my body at the sight of her.

“I’m Ms. Saunders and I will be interviewing you. Come with me,” she said, and we walked into a conference room, which was not sectioned off by a wall or door. It was basically in the same space where a line of associates worked on their computers on the other side of the room. Again, it was clean and adequately spaced, but small. The conference room had a compact bookshelf to the left of the oval, white oak conference table that could seat seven people, eight with a squeeze. But today it was just her and me.

From where I was sitting, I could see that there was one empty associate’s desk, and I was already looking forward to it being mine. None of the busy associates looked my way and I sighed in relief. Added to the lack of attraction I had to the woman interviewing me, I felt at ease and at peace. It already felt tons better than the first day I’d stepped into Crawford & Beam for an interview.

The memory came to me in a flash. I was a mess and I was late after losing my virginity to Mario the night before, waking up the next morning unable to stop myself from losing myself to him again. When I showed up, my clothes were wrinkled and my hair had loose strands falling around my face. Then I met Jared who had me marked from the first day I stepped in and wasn’t open to giving me a chance to prove myself to him. After fighting for my place there, I ended up losing it to a lapse of judgment and insatiable lust for a cold and heartless moron. I shook off the memory.

Sitting here in Bronkers & Associates, I could already sense that this would be a work-focused environment. I could only hope that my boss was also female because that would make for the perfect topping to the relaxed atmosphere that I was craving. Here, I would have nothing else to concern myself with but work.

There was no space for anything else. That was the vibe that I was getting. Ihadto focus on work here and I could have my fun with Mario and Anthony outside of the office.

I hoped Bronkers & Associates saw me as the perfect fit.

“Hmm, so you worked at Crawford & Beam?” Ms. Saunders said, looking particularly pleased. I wondered if she noticed that I hadn’t worked there for longer than a month and whether it would sour her mood when she realized it.

Reaching for the letter of recommendation from Jared, I pulled it out of my faux-leather-bound folder. “Yes, I did. And I received quite the recommendation from Mr. Crawford himself,” I said, cringing at referring to him as Mr. Crawford. But that was all he was to me now. A former boss. Nothing more and nothing less.

Ms. Saunders reached for the letter and read it in silence as my heart pounded. I shifted in my seat, rotating my shoulders uncomfortably, hoping that Jared wasn’t right about the recommendation letter not being enough.

“Very well,” she said. “So, if you were such an asset to the company, why did you leave?”

I cleared my throat as she looked at me with eyes that didn’t tell me what she was thinking. “I just didn’t think it was the right environment for me,” I said, feeling hot around the collar.

She looked around the office and turned back to me. “Well, this is no Crawford & Beam, as you can see. What could we offer you that they couldn’t? Why would you want to work for us?” she asked.

It wasn’t with a tone of insecurity. It was a genuine question. Many candidates would die for the opportunity to work at Crawford & Beam. They would not be as keen about settling for a job at a law firm that was not as well known with a paycheck that would probably be less, going by the fact that they didn’t seem to be as established. But I didn’t care about that because I didn’t need the money. What I needed was to practice law.

“This environment would be perfect for me. It’s quiet and everyone seems so focused. It’s filled with professionalism and drive. It’s right up my alley. My commitment is to the law, not to flashy reputations,” I said, feeling dissatisfied with my response as soon as I finished speaking.

She studied me for a moment, looking at my resume and recommendation letter again. “So you’re committed to the law. That’s where your loyalty lies?” she asked me.

I nodded. “Oh, yes. Completely,” I responded.

“And you believe you have what it takes to be a lawyer?” she asked me.

“I’ve been working toward it my whole life,” I said. “That's all I know.”

“And you’re willing to separate emotion from the law?” she asked.

Why was she asking me this? Did she know that I had an emotional connection to Crawford & Beam? Did she hear something? Bronkers & Associates was one of Mario’s contacts—had he said something to her? I tried to separate my confusion from her question because I didn’t want my body to react, flushing my cheeks and exposing me. I became stoic in my response.

“The law is not based on emotion. It is based on fact—maybe a bit of fiction, but not fantasy or emotion. If you’re asking me if I’m able to emotionally detach from cases to consider the facts and focus on presenting that to a judge and jury in a way that will benefit our clients, I am telling you that I’m the woman for the job,” I said.

With another pause, she nodded. “Okay then. When can you start?” she asked.

My heart swelled in excitement, but I tried not to bounce up and down in my seat like a giddy little kid because I wanted to be treated with the same seriousness and professionalism as everyone else, even if I was fresh out of law school at just twenty-one. I thought about leaving here and going back to my apartment. Ugh. I didn’t want to see my apartment again until I was in need of sleep.

“I’m available right away, if you’ll have me,” I said.

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