The Attorney ✓( A White House occupants prequel)

Chapter Sixteen

One Month Later

Compared to the pain I felt immediately following Noelle's disappearance from my life, the breakup with Sonia was nothing. And the funny thing is- I didn't have any right to feel like that because I'd done it to myself. Hell, I would've left me too.

Technically we weren't even dating yet, but it sure felt like it. Now, because of my own actions I'll never get to hear her laugh again, never get to wake up in the same bed with no clothes on after staying up way too late.

And I'll never understand why Professor Albert did what she did- a sudden change of consciousness, maybe? No.

She hasn't turned me in yet, so I really don't understand. Did she just want to hurt her own daughter, hurt me or ruin our relationship? Was it a power trip just because she knew she could?

To distract myself I've been going to endless job interviews, more than anybody ever should- all across the country so I can decide where I want to live. Right now I'm in New York, getting ready for an interview at a general firm. They deal with everything from tax fraud to mass murder- which should give me a good range of experience if they push cases on me. On their website under employment, it says the lawyers that work for them can start choosing the cases they work on after a few years- provided that they win the ones they're given first.

I can do that, at least I think I can. I started to doubt myself way too much in the past years. I know it wasn't healthy, and I'm currently working on it- but I've got a long way to go.

All I can do for now is show up to this damn interview, try to showcase myself in a way that will destroy the competition. And I understand how toxic that mindset is- but it's one that most lawyers hold, so I guess I've already wedged my way in there. I pick my one nice suit that I brought with me out of the garment bag and sigh. There are so many wrinkles in the top I'd be surprised if the interviewer didn't make a comment, so I shuffle through my suitcase for a blazer- which I find folded at the bottom.

I'm finally satisfied when I stand back, and I don't see a student in the mirror. Nineteen fucking years- it took long enough.

I glance at my watch; I've got about ten minutes left and the firm is across the street from my hotel. Now, when I look out the window- I see some lawyer and their client walking out, deep in an argument, oblivious to the world around them. I hope that I develop that bond with one of mine eventually, though I know how unlikely it is that we'll ever talk again after the case is over.

I read a statistic somewhere- There's a 0.7% chance that a lawyer will develop a non-professional relationship with a client.

I do want to be professional, but at the same time- if my client's can't trust me, what's the point?

I leave my cell phone on the bed in my hotel room, so I can't get distracted, and instead leave with only my keys and wallet in my pocket. I make my way down the stairs, trying to go at a certain pace so I'm not sweaty by the time my interview starts, and stand outside for almost a minute when I get down there.

Just over a hundred yards away is a firm known for solving some of the most prolific cases these past few years. I've gotten calls back from every firm I've interviewed at, but I've ignored them because this is what I really want- though I have a hard time admitting it to myself.

I glance both ways across the busy streets; cars are passing by with no end in sight, and I make a decision. I've learned one thing from my traveling this past month: If you're tall enough that drivers will definitely see you, it doesn't matter what the traffic signal says. You can walk right in front of traffic and it'll come to a screeching halt, because nobody wants to be responsible for someone's death. You'll get a lot of "Fuck you's", that's for sure- but I'm used to it.