XXXIV

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I couldn't figure out where the time had gone.

It seemed like one minute ago I'd been having lunch with Licia in Chinatown, and now it was dark outside, the relentless New York lights the only reprieve from the pitch-black sky.

That was the way it seemed to be in this new role as a senior partner. The litany of work that crossed my desk every day meant that once I allowed myself to become truly immersed, it seemed like I didn't have a chance to breathe, let alone look around and realize the time.

This was only one of the many reasons I was grateful for Alicia Washington. She knew exactly how to pull me out of my workload so I didn't overdo it, or stress myself out unnecessarily. Taking the time out to have lunch and catch up seemed small in the grand scheme of things, but it really improved my mood and my effectiveness.

It had always been the way with us. Whilst Licia was intelligent, excelling to the top of her class, she knew how to have a good time, and spent most of freshman and sophomore year at parties in and out of Columbia. I, however, wasn't a party animal at all. I much preferred to sit in my pyjamas at home with a mug of hot tea and watch a movie. Either that or study until ridiculous o'clock in the morning. If it hadn't been for Licia, I probably wouldn't have even realised what Columbia looked like outside of Butler Library or my own dorm room.

Some things never change.

The office was empty, except for a few interns I could see milling about, eager to impress and climb up the food chain of the firm. I should know, I spent most of my formative years at Boone and Webster doing the very same. What I was pleased to note, however, was that the junior interns had ordered in takeout, something myself and my peers would have been far too afraid to get away with, back in the day. I had to remind myself that Boone and Webster were probably a lot more lenient nowadays, mellowed in their increasing age. I, for one, thought it was a good thing that the interns could let their hair down just a little bit. They worked hard enough to deserve it.

The flashing LED clock on my desk beeped with the strike of 9pm, and I knew it was time to call it a day. I could already picture myself toeing off my heels, slipping out of my white sheath dress and falling into bed, into a deep, dreamless sleep. I hadn't imagined partner to be a walk in the park, but it was sure as hell taking its toll on my sleep schedule.

Gathering my things: briefcase, bag, extra files tucked under my arm, I turned off the lights in my office and locked the door with the key I'd looped around my wrist.

"Heading out, Miss Rodriguez?"

I turned to see Mason Smith, one of the interns in criminal that had helped on the Johnson retrial, with his shoes off and laptop open on his desk, a few other interns clustered behind him, who looked at me expectantly

"Yes, Mr. Smith," I smiled, "and you boys should too! It's getting late!"

Mason grinned widely, showing off a dimple in his left cheek, "We eat, sleep and breathe Boone, Webster, Rodriguez, ma'am. You know that."

I rolled my eyes affectionately, "Hey, I can't stop you staying. But seriously. Don't overdo it. You all work hard enough, that's what I know. Go home."

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded, "You have a good night."

"And you, Mason." I replied, walking towards the elevator, "And you."

By the time I stepped out into the street, and begun to walk towards Spencer's apartment, the New York air was warm, hinting at the ever-approaching Summer. Soon enough, the sidewalk would be sticky, and the subway unbearably oppressive with heat. Perhaps Spencer and I could plan a weekend getaway? He had a good friend in the Hamptons that opened his place in the Summer whilst he vacationed in Miami. Maybe my hotshot could organize something...

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