“Thank you very much,” Kennedy winks and closes my office door when she leaves. I see her walking away through my interior office windows. She walks with a bounce in her step, and I realize that Kennedy seems happy.
Really happy.
Maybe that’s what makes her the best paralegal I’ve ever had. She works hard, she’s always on time, and she never complains. She doesn’t whine. Kennedy does her job with a smile and when she works on a project, she gives it her all. She is one of the few lights in my day.
Divorce is a messy business. Contrary to popular opinion, not all divorce attorneys are bad guys. Oh, I’m a shark when it comes to helping my clients. I’m ruthless. I’ll go the whole way, but I’m not a bad guy. I don’t go looking for trouble. I don’t need to get a jury all riled up to feel like I’m a good attorney. I win, and I win, and I win, and that’s what makes me feel like a good attorney.
Sometimes, though, my job can be completely emotionally exhausting.
When I meet someone new at work, ninety-nine percent of the time, that person is having the worst day of their life. Either they’ve chosen to leave their spouse or they’ve discovered their spouse is leaving them. No matter who decides to leave first, divorce is never simple. It’s never clean. It’s never easy.
It’s dirty, and it wears me out.
By the time I leave the office, I’m ready to call it a day, but I promised Zack I’d meet him for a drink at Drinking Games. My best friend since law school, Zack is someone I can never say no to. Hell, he’s someone I never want to say no to. He’s always been there for me, and I’ve always been there for him. We have an incredible friendship, and I’m lucky to have him in my life.
Tonight, I don’t feel like being social, but somehow, I make it to the little bar and make myself comfortable on one of the stools at the bar.
“What’ll it be, sir?” I look up at the bartendress. Her dark hair is pulled back and she’s wearing a corset top with jeans. I don’t know if most people could pull off the look or not, but she seems to.
“I like your boots,” I tell her.
“My boobs?”
“No,” I lean over the bar and point down to her feet. “Your boots,” I say. “You look like a cowgirl.”
“Well, yippee-kay-ay,” she winks. “What are you drinking?”
“Whiskey sour,” I tell her, and she smiles and moves away to start making the drink. While she pours, I take a look around. Drinking Games is a smaller place, but it’s got a fun, comfortable atmosphere. There are several round tables throughout the room, along with a jukebox and some pool tables.
“Like what you see?” The woman appears with my drink and sets it in front of me.
“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” I tell her. “When did you guys open?”
“Two months ago,” she says.
“You guys get pretty busy in here?”
“You’d be surprised.”
The bartendress turns and heads off to make a drink for someone else, but I’m not alone for long. It’s only a few minutes before Zack strides through the bar and over to where I’m sitting. Despite being a real estate lawyer, Zack has a commanding presence. People hear what kind of law he deals with, and they assume he’s somehow weak. He’s not.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Zack says. He motions for the bartendress and she scurries over.
“Hey Zack. What’ll it be?”
“Sam Adams draft.”
“You got it, boss.”
“Boss?” I mouth silently to him. Zack just shrugs.
“I come here a lot,” he says.
“Trouble at home?”
“Not at all. Christina usually comes with me. If we’re not at Anchored, but we still want a night out, we’ll come here. It’s close to work, close to home, and the drinks are cheap.”
“Plus, the views are unbeatable,” I say, nodding my head toward the woman running the bar, but Zack just rolls his eyes.