ONE WEEK LATER
I knock on the door of Janice Maloney, a partner at the firm. I’m not here of my own volition. Rather, earlier this morning, my computer lit up with a notification that I had an instant message from Asher.
I jumped with nervous excitement, not only because I was glad to hear from Asher, but also because I was glad to hear from anyone about anything. All last week I had sat at my desk in my cubicle with nothing to work on.
I was beginning to fear that even though Asher said I wouldn’t be fired for refusing to be his “pet” or whatever it was exactly that he wanted me to be, that in reality I would have no chance at the firm because I had refused.
I’ve been miserable all week and Jimmy has been bugging me about getting together to talk. I’ve put him off, but this morning I finally responded to his email, agreeing to meet with him.
It’s not that I want to get back together. Experiencing whatever it was that I briefly experienced with Asher has shown me that I need to be done with Jimmy for good. I need to find something like what I could have with Asher, except with someone I can actually have it with without wrecking my career.
When it comes to Jimmy, I just want closure. And since nothing is happening in my professional life, I figure I should at least take some control over my personal life.
The Barbies often walk by my cubicle and giggle, as if I’m some pariah cluttering up this space. Or some rejected associate who couldn’t figure out when it was time to throw my resume on Monster.com and start looking for another job— which is probably closer to the truth.
This morning after I saw the notification flash on my screen, I’d anxiously clicked on the instant message. I didn’t even care how desperate I looked since no one ever seemed to be paying attention to me anyway.
Asher Marks: Please go see Janice Maloney. She will now be working with you in the mentorship role.
My heart sank. I suppose I’d hoped against hope for another chance with Asher. Sure, he’d told me he could no longer have me as his mentee, or “pet,” or whatever.
But then he’d played with my pussy and made it throb and drip for him. He couldn’t deny that there was something there between us. Could he?
I still feel I’m in some kind of shock that it all happened so quickly like that and that now it’s really over. I can’t help but admit to myself that I’ve been pining for Asher. His look, his smell, his touch.
Why couldn’t I have just worn the fucking outfit? It’s not like I didn’t put myself on display for him after all. And it’s not like I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I’d enjoyed it much more than I thought I would even in my fantasies.
I guess I’m being reassigned to Janice. I’m pretty sure she’s Mandy’s mentor, and that Mandy isn’t too happy about it. I’d overheard her in the firm cafeteria telling the other Barbies that Janice was “flighty.” “A real space cadet” were her exact words.
But I’m grateful for the chance to work with anyone at all. Janice had actually introduced herself to me midweek last week, and she was helpful. I’d told her I was looking for assignments and that I was worried about my lack of billable hours without them.
Lack of billable hours is the surest way for an associate to be laid off. But I didn’t say that part to Janice. I didn’t need to, because everyone already knows it.
She’d told me she would see what work she has for me, that she had some depositions coming up soon that I could likely sit in on.
“Thank you,” I’d told her. “I appreciate it.”
“And in the meantime, you can read up on deposition- taking skills, in case I ask you to handle any part of the deposition,” she’d said, brightly.
“Great,” I’d said, excited by the prospect.
“There are some books in the firm’s library, or if none of them are adequate, feel free to order what you need online, and bill it to the firm account.”
“Sure,” I’d told her, although I had no idea how to do that.
“Bill it to the Training file,” she’d told me, with a wink. “They let associates do that— and they even count the hours— with permission from a partner. So just be sure to note that I instructed you to do it that way.”
“Thanks,” I’d answered, sounding like a broken record, but I was truly grateful for her help.
It was comical, really, when I thought about how different her instructions were when compared to Asher’s. I highly doubt she’d hide BDSM- appropriate lingerie in a library book.
Since then I’d spent hours reading deposition preparation books— much of which contained information I’d already learned during my first year of law school— taking notes, and billing it to Training.
So now I’m glad for the chance to leave my cubicle and enter a partner’s office. I wish that I was entering Asher’s office but since I’m not, I’ll have to face reality and make my best impression with Janice. At least until Asher is done putting me in time out. And I really hope that’s all he’s doing.