see this. Way to be a grown-up, Marisa berated herself. Trip fucking Brannon. Randomly screwing some guy from the gym or from Match.com would have been a better choice. I’ve totally fucked up. Lawyers aren’t supposed to have sex with their clients. I could get in trouble with the bar association and get suspended from practice. I could get in trouble with my law partners. I could lose Branco as a client. Best idea ever, Marisa.
Marisa arrived home before seven o’clock. Blessedly, she hadn’t seen a soul she knew. But, she had crossed paths with several early morning joggers and dog walkers. She was sure she had been quite the sight, and was thankful that no one had called the neighborhood’s rent-a-cops. Marisa headed straight to her bathroom, turned the shower to as hot as it would go, and faced herself in the mirror. Yup. Way to royally screw up your life. She looked exactly like the mess she felt like. Her hair was flat and greasy on her scalp in parts and other bits stuck out at weird angles. Her mascara had turned her into a raccoon. She peeled her clothes off and threw them in her hamper with force. Seriously, why the fuck did I do that? I’m not that desperate that I just sleep with men I hardly know. Did I suddenly lose a dozen years of age and now am back in college, doing all of the things that I was too good a girl to do when I was in Charlottesville?
The hot water felt punishingly good. It cleaned her, calmed her, and let her gather her thoughts. Okay. I’ve got to get a plan together. This is what I do. I handle problems for people. I can handle this. First, I need to minimize the damage I’ve done with Branco. Secondly, this cannot happen again. No more dates or things that look or feel like dates with Trip.
Marisa settled on an ice queen approach. She’d just keep Trip at a professional distance and hope he kept his trap shut.
Marisa rolled into her office around nine. That was very late for her, but she was hurting. Chugging what felt like a half gallon of VitaminWater hadn’t made a dent in her headache. She hadn’t had the energy to dress in anything other than her I’m-going-to-pull-an-all-nighter black jersey wrap dress. It looked professional enough, but felt like a bathrobe.
“Morning, Marisa!,” called Jane cheerily, and Jane was completely oblivious to Marisa’s straggling pace. She was too engrossed in Facebook to look up. Marisa plunked down in her desk chair. She hit the intercom button on her phone.
“Jane,” she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “Can you get me a milky coffee and keep them coming?”
“Sure,” chirped Jane.
Marisa was staring blankly out her window when Jane appeared a few minutes later with a steaming mug. “Rough night?,” inquired Jane, setting down the mug on Marisa’s desk.
“Yup,” said Marisa succinctly, taking a tentative sip. “Is it this Branco suit with John that’s getting to you? It’s only been two weeks. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s really going on. It just takes some time. Is the new hottie General Counsel riding you already?” Marisa cringed and took another sip. He had, in a style, but she wasn’t about to let herself think about last night.
“You could say that.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Well, I’ve interviewed all of the witnesses I can think of and we’ve gotten all of the documents that would prove Susan’s making this up. But after all of that, I still don’t have anything that says either Susan’s telling the truth or she’s lying. It’s going to be a classic he said-she said case and those are never pretty. I wish I could figure out what caused her to bring this up now.”
“When I was typing your notes, I saw that she’d recently gone through a divorce. Do you want me to pull those court records?”
“Sure. That’s a good idea. Let’s see
Marisa arrived home before seven o’clock. Blessedly, she hadn’t seen a soul she knew. But, she had crossed paths with several early morning joggers and dog walkers. She was sure she had been quite the sight, and was thankful that no one had called the neighborhood’s rent-a-cops. Marisa headed straight to her bathroom, turned the shower to as hot as it would go, and faced herself in the mirror. Yup. Way to royally screw up your life. She looked exactly like the mess she felt like. Her hair was flat and greasy on her scalp in parts and other bits stuck out at weird angles. Her mascara had turned her into a raccoon. She peeled her clothes off and threw them in her hamper with force. Seriously, why the fuck did I do that? I’m not that desperate that I just sleep with men I hardly know. Did I suddenly lose a dozen years of age and now am back in college, doing all of the things that I was too good a girl to do when I was in Charlottesville?
The hot water felt punishingly good. It cleaned her, calmed her, and let her gather her thoughts. Okay. I’ve got to get a plan together. This is what I do. I handle problems for people. I can handle this. First, I need to minimize the damage I’ve done with Branco. Secondly, this cannot happen again. No more dates or things that look or feel like dates with Trip.
Marisa settled on an ice queen approach. She’d just keep Trip at a professional distance and hope he kept his trap shut.
Marisa rolled into her office around nine. That was very late for her, but she was hurting. Chugging what felt like a half gallon of VitaminWater hadn’t made a dent in her headache. She hadn’t had the energy to dress in anything other than her I’m-going-to-pull-an-all-nighter black jersey wrap dress. It looked professional enough, but felt like a bathrobe.
“Morning, Marisa!,” called Jane cheerily, and Jane was completely oblivious to Marisa’s straggling pace. She was too engrossed in Facebook to look up. Marisa plunked down in her desk chair. She hit the intercom button on her phone.
“Jane,” she spoke in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “Can you get me a milky coffee and keep them coming?”
“Sure,” chirped Jane.
Marisa was staring blankly out her window when Jane appeared a few minutes later with a steaming mug. “Rough night?,” inquired Jane, setting down the mug on Marisa’s desk.
“Yup,” said Marisa succinctly, taking a tentative sip. “Is it this Branco suit with John that’s getting to you? It’s only been two weeks. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s really going on. It just takes some time. Is the new hottie General Counsel riding you already?” Marisa cringed and took another sip. He had, in a style, but she wasn’t about to let herself think about last night.
“You could say that.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Well, I’ve interviewed all of the witnesses I can think of and we’ve gotten all of the documents that would prove Susan’s making this up. But after all of that, I still don’t have anything that says either Susan’s telling the truth or she’s lying. It’s going to be a classic he said-she said case and those are never pretty. I wish I could figure out what caused her to bring this up now.”
“When I was typing your notes, I saw that she’d recently gone through a divorce. Do you want me to pull those court records?”
“Sure. That’s a good idea. Let’s see
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