| A Meeting of Like Minds |
[14 Sep 2007|01:42am] |
Jill didn’t need a secretary.
Two weeks since she put a shoe in her old secretary’s eye and fired her, and the attorney had never gotten more done. Client meetings, corporate mergers, three murder cases that never even made it to trial; Jill hadn’t felt this good about working for Wolfram & Hart since she first touched down in Las Vegas.
The constant barrage of questions from the press was somewhat irritating – why did everyone with a notepad and a press credential assume Wolfram & Hart had anything to do with a Nevada Congressman accused of running an international child prostitution ring? Okay, some nutjob in Washington might’ve been pedaling 10-year-old boys into the country for all sorts of unmentionable things … so what?
No way would Jill and the firm touch this. Yeah, it was despicable and evil, but … bad for public image, worse for the bottom line.
Burning cigarette in the ash tray, Jill was in the zone, typing furiously at her keyboard, drafting a proposal for a merger between a Chinese pharmaceutical company and one of America’s leading tobacco producers. Normally this sort of thing wasn’t her forte, but with a shortage of clients to keep out of jail, Jill needed something to do.
What better way to stay productive than to help two companies notorious for killing people grow larger and more financially stable?
If walls could talk, the ones cubing Jillian’s office might give her a heads-up now, lest she lose hers.
It had been an ugly incident. Two supernatural entities -- one an angel, one a demon -- got past Wolfram and Hart security and destroyed the so-called sanctity of the building in a reign of gunfire. They stole a sword. Lawyers, paralegals, short-skirted girls answering the phones, and anyone else that got in the way were shot down or removed in other ways. Like being flung off the roof. Or having their heads cut off. The very desk that Jill typed on received a gruesome souvenir from the raid.
Jill hadn’t seemed to care much. In fact, most of those who survived merely saw it as routine housecleaning. A way to skip a few rungs on the corporate ladder. It worked out well. Darian, the demon in the equation, had made a truce with the law firm through Elise Shelby. So this time when he came for a visit, he did so through the front door.
He wandered around. He made certain none of the doors carried the name Jason Toren again. That might’ve called for another ass-kicking. At Jillian’s door he stopped with the hazy memory of having been there before and done something decidedly vicious. He rapped his knuckles.
Finishing up the last sentence on the proposal, Jill clicked on “Save” then “Print” before standing and moving to the all-in-one big-ass machine she had in the back corner. The one that printed her documents, made copies, faxed them to other offices – even if said office was in Quor’toth – and probably made a kickass dry martini at the end of the day.
Jill reminded herself to find out, come time to go home.
The knock on the door startled her a bit, but her pale face bent into a wicked smile before grabbing the piece of paper the printer spit out, walking back to her desk. “It’s open,” she called out as she sat back in her rather lavish leather swivel chair.
One of the finer perks of being a Wolfram & Hart employee.
Darian turned the knob and went in.
( Get Me My Lawyer )
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