I whisk up the empty box that’s by the printer, go back toward my desk, and start going through my drawers. I have an extra coffee mug I keep here in my desk that Clairabella and I painted at one of those pottery stores. Seeing it makes me smile. Sure, things might be tight for a few weeks until I find a new job, but I’ve been through worse and came out better.
Packing up my desk takes less than ten minutes. I place the box beside my desk and finish working for the day. I don’t wonder if Mr. Rodriquez will ask me to stay because I know he won’t. The fact that he can treat any human being like this is appalling. I’ve met his mother before, and something tells me if she saw how he worked me to the bone, thinking overtime pay would make it better, I think she’d take that huge purse she’s always carrying and wallop him on the side of the head.
I grab my phone and shoot a text to our group chat. Callie knew this was coming while Presley was encouraging me to do so as well.
Me: I did it. I finally freaking did it.
Lyla: YES! Wine tonight?
Presley: I am so damn proud of you, and yes, wine STAT.
Me: I’m down. Tell me where and I’ll be there. Love you!
Lyla: Backatcha! My place works. Bring Bella.
Presley: Love you, girls!
Me: I couldn’t have done this without my tribe. I better finish my day out before “the dragon” appears.
I put my phone back in my purse and get back to work with a bright smile on my face. This is the first time in months I’ve had a reason to smile while at work. Yeah, this might have been the best idea yet.
2
Jamie
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I can’t believe that just happened. I think I really screwed up, and something tells me Callie isn’t going to be easily persuaded to stay.
Sitting back in my chair, I take in the scenery before me. It’s everything I’ve wanted in life; to be the owner of a law firm has always been my dream. I watched mi Madre work two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, struggling, unwillingly taking the state help we could receive. I watched a youthful young lady age overnight, and I hated every moment of it. That’s why, at the age of thirty-seven years old, I am the way I am.
And look at what I’ve done—the same thing my own mother had to deal with. Dickheads come in every shape and size. I’m pretty sure, if you looked me up in Callie’s dictionary under dickhead, my picture would appear.
Cursing myself again, I do the one thing I know will give me even more grief right now. Yet, I do it anyways. I can’t believe she has a child; there are no pictures on her desk of her. She’s barely asked for time off over the years, and even when she took a week off for a friend’s wedding, she still made it so that she was reachable. Callie should be calling me every name under the sun.
I pick up the phone, dialing my mom. The phone rings on the other end. Try as I might to get her to quit, she still works, though nowadays, she owns her own clothing boutique. She wouldn’t even take a loan from me, let alone money. Nope, she wanted to do it alone. I guess that’s why I probably did the same thing when I went to law school. I busted my ass for every scholarship I could get, only using student loans to cover the rest.
“Mijo, how are you today?” she asks. Shit, I know it’s coming. I’m not looking forward to it.
“Mom, I’ve had better days, but first, how is your day going? Any new high rollers come in and clear you out?”
“Oh, Jamie, what did you do?” She doesn’t even answer my question. My mother still has that intuition even now.
“Shit, how do you always know when I do something wrong? Couldn’t it have been the other way around?”
“I know you. You have a lot of your mother in you. We hate to admit when we’re wrong, and it’s even worse when we feel like we failed somehow.” I hear the hushed tone. I know she sometimes feels that she let me down, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
“I screwed up with my assistant. Did you know she has a daughter?”
“Oh, yes, I know all about Clairabella. She looks so much like Callie it’s astonishing. Why? Didn’t you?” She sounds shocked.
“I had no idea. This may be worse than I thought. She turned in her resignation, and I can’t even blame her. The problem is that I don’t want to let her go, but she’s pretty dead set on this being her last day.” I let out a breath of air, stand from my desk, and pace. It’s something I do when I’m trying to think about my next step in a court case, but sadly, I can’t think of Callie that way.