Angel

Chapter 3:

Marc

"Hello...Earth to Brandon?" I said, knocking on the table. "Man, where were you just now?"

He grinned and took a bite of his pasta. "Lost in jade green eyes, man."

"Huh?"

"Apparently, we have a rather beautiful new paralegal at the firm. She was in the break room trying to bandage her hand and we talked," he said with a goofy grin.

"Wait, bandage her hand? What happened?" Corey interjected, setting his plate on the table as he reached for the parmesan cheese. "Did she write up a report? Last thing we need is to get sued over a workplace injury."

"Oh shut up," Brandon snorted, "It was a tiny cut. She said a picture frame fell off her desk and she cut her finger trying to clean it up." Corey nodded as Brandon continued. "I'm assuming it wasn't just the frame though, because when I came in, she was crying."

I frowned, "Do you know why she was upset?"

He shook his head, "No, she made some lame jokes to cover and then I got lost in her giggles." He gave a wistful sigh, "She's fucking gorgeous, guys."

"Yeah, and she's an employee, which makes her off limits, Bran," Corey said flatly. "You know the rules, brother. Besides, I'm sure she was just flirting to impress the boss."

"That's the crazy thing, Cor. She had absolutely no idea who I was. I mean I didn't give her my name, and just assumed she knew, but then when I left she made a comment about her supervisor ratting her out to the boss about not working. She had no clue." He grinned even wider.

Corey

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was a fucking disaster. Some random paralegal had filed the wrong paperwork and now one of my top clients was threatening to sue the firm.

"Lydia, I need to see Trish Quire immediately," I barked into the intercom.

"Um, yes, yes sir," she stammered quickly.

A few moments later I heard the sound of Trish's heels clicking on the floor, then a hesitant knock. "Come in," I snapped.

"Mr. Henshaw, you, um wanted to see me, sir?" I stared at her for a moment. What the actual fuck was she wearing? Her hair looked like she'd been fooling around in the storage closet, her dress was askew and way too short for a professional office. The tacky sequins pattern was blinding in the fluorescent lighting. I swear it looked like she'd walked in straight from the clubs.

"Sit." I nodded to the chair across from my desk. "Would you care to explain what went wrong with the Franklin case? It was a simple LLC contract merger, yet somehow, you seemed to have missed the deadline, and now we have a very unhappy client."

Her face paled, then she said quickly, "Sir, it wasn't my fault. It was Ms. Theriot, she's new and I guess she mixed up the files, and well, then when I went to get them, she handed me a different case. I tried to sort it out, sir, but I can only do so much with the new staff. This girl's been having a rough time, even been late a couple of times, and has already asked for personal days even though she's only been here a few months." The woman continued to ramble and I quickly lost my patience.

"Enough," I said, holding my hands up. "Just a moment." I pressed down the intercom button, "Lydia, could you please have Ms. Theriot from contracts meet Mr. Ravenstahl in conference room two, and place Ms. Quire in room one? Be sure to bring water. This may take a bit." I saw Trish visibly gulp as she stood and followed me to the door. "I'm sure the matter will resolve itself quickly enough. I'll be with you shortly, Trish." She nodded and I watched as Lydia led her down the hall.

I had just sat back down as Raven stormed in. I knew he wouldn't be happy, but I really didn't expect the attitude I got. "Why the fuck am I talking to a novichok (newbie)? I do interrogations, not babysitting."

I snorted, "You do depositions, Raven, not interrogations."

He grinned, "Da, same. So why am I doing this?"

I pushed my fingers together, "Trish was way too defensive. I'm not sure what the real story is, but I thought meeting the boss might make the poor girl panic." I tapped my screen and then swiped, sending the information to Raven's phone. "She's young, man. Only twenty-one, but her academics are amazing. At first glance, I couldn't believe she would make a mistake like this, but when Trish mentioned being late and asking for time off, I got worried. What if she's hiding something? You're better at sniffing out secrets than I am, Rav."

"So where will you be while I frighten the little girl?" he chuckled.

"Watching the way Trish reacts."

"Why do we even have that prostitutka (hooker) working for us?" he muttered. She wasn't a great paralegal, but she always managed to find a way to save her ass.

"Because I haven't found good cause to terminate her contract. Maybe this is the chance," I grinned. "No pressure, of course." He groaned and headed out to meet Ms. Theriot.

I flipped my computer screens to show the cameras and audio. Trish was nervously picking at the water bottle label, while the young Ms. Theriot seemed to be studying the room. If she was nervous, she was doing a good job hiding it. She was a small thing, modestly dressed with her hair pulled back in a loose braid. The camera angle hid most of her face, only giving me glimpses of her pink lips when she would push them together as she studied a painting in the room.

I looked back at her file. Matilda Theriot, lives in Hahnville, just on the other side of the Lake. She took her high school exams online, graduating at just sixteen, then it looked like there was a small gap before she enrolled in Louisiana State for paralegal studies and business. Our head hunters had snatched her up quickly. Her profile indicated she wanted to pursue a law degree down the road, but family and financial constraints kept her from it now. Hmm, I wonder if that had anything to do with the personal day requests. Trish was right, she had asked for three different days - two to leave early, and one full day. It looked like Trish had denied all of them. One of the days, Ms. Theriot had called in claiming to be sick.

I turned my attention back to the screen when I heard Raven enter the room. "Hello, Ms. Theriot, I'm Mr. Ravenstahl," he said, holding his hand out to her. She had risen when he entered. Without hesitation, she shook his hand and waited for his directions. "Please, sit. Let's get started."

Yes, let's.

Author's Notes:  So is our girl Mattie going down or is Trish?

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I figured a second update was in order after my brief absence.