It had been a week since Babs and Greta had talked in that small cafe and two since Babs had woken up with a hangover to kill and a mysterious message written across her back. She had yet to call the number and she still had no idea who J.W. was. At the moment though, none of those things mattered as Babs stared at the huge pile of case law she had to read in the next two days. It took her roughly an hour to read 10 pages and fully understand them so at this rate... Babs lifted the pile of paper at its middle half-heartedly then let it drop.
She'd be here until midnight both nights.
Grimacing at the tiny words written about a boring topic, Babs jumped when someone knocked at her door. It was Richard. She could tell it was him out of the periphery of her eye as he tended to fill the doorway - especially when he wore his robes as he did now.
"Were you just in court?" Babs asked him, trying to keep her voice level. She hated that even now, after an affair of nearly three months with this man, he still set her on edge. She turned in her chair after she'd said this.
Richard nodded. It wasn't that he was extraordinarily good looking. He was smart but not that smart - and not as smart as Babs for that matter. It was that he was... confident. Confident and tall and slightly condescending. Babs was putty in his hands and she hated it. "Thought you'd be there. You could have learned a thing or two."
Babs scowled at him turning back to her work, "my loss. I'm busy - did you want something?"
She felt rather then saw him approach. And as he did so, she heard her office door click shut behind him. He stood directly over her without touching her, saying nothing. The tension was unbearable. Babs did not turn around nor did she say anything. Eventually she felt his hands on her neck, pulling her head back...
Later, after he'd left, Babs waited a respectable time before making her way to the bathroom. There was a private one on the third floor and at this point she knew the most discrete path to get there. Looking in the mirror in the tiny, windowless room Babs checked to see if her mascara was smeared and it was then that she took a good long look at her 29 year old face. Every line, every mark, every uneven feature stared back under the florescent light. And of course, she started to cry. She didn't know where it came from but she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sobs that rippled out of her body. She lost track of how long she stood there, one hand on the sink for support, the other covering her mouth, staring into the mirror and crying. Every now and then someone knocked but she chose to ignore it.
Eventually she sat down on the toilet and forced herself to calm down. Deep breaths. And then she stood, splashed water on her face, fixed her mascara and went back to her desk.
She'd be here until at least 2 am now. Damn him, Babs thought, this was the last time.
Richard nodded. It wasn't that he was extraordinarily good looking. He was smart but not that smart - and not as smart as Babs for that matter. It was that he was... confident. Confident and tall and slightly condescending. Babs was putty in his hands and she hated it. "Thought you'd be there. You could have learned a thing or two."
Babs scowled at him turning back to her work, "my loss. I'm busy - did you want something?"
She felt rather then saw him approach. And as he did so, she heard her office door click shut behind him. He stood directly over her without touching her, saying nothing. The tension was unbearable. Babs did not turn around nor did she say anything. Eventually she felt his hands on her neck, pulling her head back...
Later, after he'd left, Babs waited a respectable time before making her way to the bathroom. There was a private one on the third floor and at this point she knew the most discrete path to get there. Looking in the mirror in the tiny, windowless room Babs checked to see if her mascara was smeared and it was then that she took a good long look at her 29 year old face. Every line, every mark, every uneven feature stared back under the florescent light. And of course, she started to cry. She didn't know where it came from but she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sobs that rippled out of her body. She lost track of how long she stood there, one hand on the sink for support, the other covering her mouth, staring into the mirror and crying. Every now and then someone knocked but she chose to ignore it.
Eventually she sat down on the toilet and forced herself to calm down. Deep breaths. And then she stood, splashed water on her face, fixed her mascara and went back to her desk.
She'd be here until at least 2 am now. Damn him, Babs thought, this was the last time.
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