“You bought it after just two summers at that firm?” he asked in open disbelief and a little envy. “What the hell are you doing here? It would take you like two years to earn that kind of scratch. And that’s assuming you don’t have to pay rent or eat.”
Ari couldn’t help looking at Sloane to see what she might say. She’d been dying to know the answer to that question for the last two weeks.
Sloane’s stony expression faltered for just a moment as a queasiness softened her features. “I wanted to do justice rather
than
structure
capital
for
multinational
corporations.”
It was an obvious lie.
The guy in the front laughed. “I don’t know what the hell that means, but I’d do it for one of these.”
Once they arrived at the loading zone where Chad was waving at them, Sloane pulled into the spot he was saving. At least the fawning over Sloane’s car by the new group was limited by Chad’s promise to building security that they’d only be parked there for twenty minutes.
After a tour of the courthouse Ari didn’t need, they filed into the elevator until they were packed shoulder-to-shoulder. Their o ce was near the top of the tall building and Ari felt every second of their ascent while staring at the back of Dave’s square head.
“So, we’re divided into three divisions,” Chad explained while pressing his ID badge to a lock and letting them inside
their suite of o ces. “You’ve all been arbitrarily divided into three groups of five and assigned to one of them.”
And I will naturally be paired with Sloane. If she started getting used to the idea maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible when it happened.
Every space was packed with lawyers, paralegals, investigators, and other support sta . Ari greeted the people she recognized as they walked the halls.
“Are we expected to share these?” Sloane asked, peering into one of the open o ces with two desks.
You’re literally the rudest person I’ve ever met. Have you ever had a judgmental thought you didn’t share out loud?
“It depends,” he explained, leading them around the maze of small o ces along the wall bordering the labyrinth of cubicles at the center. “The idea is that by the time you all get here permanently, most of this group will be gone. But sometimes the juvenile division, where you go next, is still too full because not enough C-level felony prosecutors have left. In that case, we might have to double up temporarily until everyone moves out.”
Judging by Sloane’s icy expression, she wasn’t thrilled at the possibility. As if anyone would be jumping at the chance to share space with her.
After snaking through the endless sea of gray cubicle dividers, they finally stopped at a large, windowless conference room. Each corner of the room was filled with boxes and accordion folders. Ari watched Sloane for her reaction. The shabby place was probably not even as nice as the janitor’s closet at the Manhattan firm she expected to be in right now.
“And this is where you’ll be for the next two weeks,”
Chad announced as he gestured around the conference room.
“There’s a post-it with your name on each chair. We’ve written your division numbers at the bottom. Now remember, you’re only tentatively placed in a division. In the event some of you don’t pass the bar or for some reason don’t come to DV, people will be shifted around. So don’t be married to the idea. You can set up your stu and leave it here for the duration of training. No need to lug it back and forth.”
“Is there a significance to where we’re placed? Is Division One first string or something?” Yelena asked as she walked around the oval conference table looking for the chair with her name on it.
“Nope,” he replied, his arms crossed over his suited chest as he leaned against the doorway. “There’s just three judges that handle domestic violence cases. Hence the three divisions. You’ll spend nine months going before just that one judge.”
After milling around, Ari found her seat next to Yelena.
They’d both been placed in Division Two. Sloane was in Division One. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but it felt like the universe throwing some serious shade at her anyway.
It was going to be a long nine months.