I snap my jaw closed and try not to squeal when I respond. “Yes! I’d love to. What do you need from me? I’m happy to help with anything.”
“Wonderful,” Sandra stands up and takes a step out of the cubicle, “I’ll have Claire set up a time to brief you,” she says leaving me stunned and agape.
I want to pull out my phone and text Miranda and Will about my news, but instead I decide to play it cool. I take another sip of my coffee and log into my email as I wait for Claire’s meeting invite.
The invite comes about ten minutes later. The meeting time is scheduled for 11:45 am, over three hours away. I don’t know what Sandra was thinking coming in here and dropping this bomb on me, then making me wait over three hours to know any details. I’m jittery and nervous and excited all in one. Ihaven’t even processed yet that Sandra knew me well enough to know if I’d be a good fit on a case or not. I need to calm down, I am full blown fan girling over Sandra Fray right now.
Okay, be normal, I tell myself as I review my list of tasks for today. When all else fails, I pull out the timer. It's guaranteed to help me focus and block out all the background noise; both literally and metaphorically.
I set a timer on my phone for 90 minutes and put in my ear buds with my lofi jazz playlist and get to work. Here at my internship, in the words of my mom, I live and die by the timer. When the timer is going, I don’t get up from my desk, I don’t go to the bathroom, I don’t even refill my water. Unless there is an emergency I’m firmly planted in my cubicle, completing task after task. And when I don’t have anything else to do administratively, I study for the LSAT.
When my timer goes off, I’m in the middle of reading about a divorce case the firm represented a few weeks ago. I've already scheduled the mediation sessions I needed to schedule and I’ve made ten copies of a deposition transcript for Jessica. I set my timer for fifteen minutes of rest time and stand up to stretch my legs.
I take a lap around the floor, keeping an eye out for any particularly good outfits. I was surprised that more people don’t wear killer business outfits to work, but like most things, TV lies. About 70% of the office wears what I would describe as frumpy clothes. But there are a handful of women who work here that own my dream closet.
After a lap around the floor with no outfit inspiration, I head back to my cubicle. The rest of my morning is uneventful as I wait for my briefing with Claire.
Claire’s waiting for me when I round her cubicle entrance and double check I’m not late. “Hey, girl," she says, smiling atme from her chair, wearing an adorable blazer and pant suit combo.
“Hey.” I take a seat next to her, happy that we’re finally going to be working together on something again. We met a while back when I first started working here, she’s the one who trained me on all the administrative stuff I do. We hang out every now and then, but I think she’s really cool, and I want to be better friends with her.
“So Sandra wants you to help me with all the really tedious stuff. This is a big case, so she’s got a few others on this case with her too–don’t freak out too much. Even the,” she makes air quotes with her hands, “important stuff,” she drops her hands again and continues, “will be double and triple checked by her team.”
“Alright, that doesn’t sound too bad.”
She side eyes me before saying, “You say that now, but just wait until you’re fifty emails deep in an email thread between Jackson Schuyler and Natalie Miller and how much he likes her ass.”
I can’t help it, but a little gasp does escape. “This is the Miller divorce case?”
She nods her head, “Ummhmm.”
My mouth is literally hanging open. I heard rumors that Sandra took on Natalie Miller as a client around the office, but I didn’t have the guts to confirm with anyone for fear of sounding like an idiot or appearing as the office gossip. Jackson Schuyler is a Detroit mega millionaire. Apparently he married his 24 year old personal assistant without a pre-nup. She’s refusing to sign a post-nup and, according to what’s trending on social media, it's getting nasty.
Getting to intern on a case this high profile is the experience of a lifetime. I could cry I’m so excited. “So when do you want me up here?”
“Can you grab your stuff now?”
It takes all my self control not to jump up and down as I let her know I am more than able to join her now. I head down to my usual cubicle, gather my things, and practically skip my way back to Claire’s cubicle.
“I sent you some of the preliminary emails. Take a look at those and then let me know when you’re done,” she says as I unload my bag and open up my laptop.
The emails Claire forwarded are already at the top of my inbox, detailing what kinds of things Sandra wants Claire to be researching and a few links to some cases the firm has done in the past on high profile and large money divorces.
I pop in my ear buds and set myself a timer for 90 minutes.
My eyes feel dry and my stomach is grumbling when my phone lets me know my 90 minutes are up. This is a lot of information to internalize. I take my ear buds out and spin around in my chair.
“You might be the most focused person I’ve ever seen in my life,” Claire jokes.
My cheeks heat up, “I do this thing called the pomodoro method. It helps me focus.”
“Yeah,” she says in a way that makes me feel self conscious. “Did you even notice that like three people stopped by in the last hour?”
I can feel the warmth of embarrassment spreading down my neck and over my chest, “Uh, no, not really,” I admit.
“I think I might have to try it,” she says, making me feel a little better about how locked in I was on my readings. She continues, “But, I actually only work until 2:00 pm today, so I’ll see you later this week?”
I understand what she’s asking: please go back down to your cubicle. So I gather up my stuff, and once more, head down to the first floor.
