Adding to my foul mood is the fact that my morning has been spent at the doctor’s office having more blood sucked out of me than a herd of vampires would have taken. I haven’t felt good in a few days and finally decided to see what was going on. I’m tired of feeling wrung out, nauseous, exhausted, and like I don’t want to do anything but sleep the day away.
I drop down behind my desk and groan as I look at the stack of files sitting on my desk. Just because I’ve been out, that doesn’t mean the wheels of justice have stopped grinding. Another wave of nausea rolls over me, so I put my head down for a minute. The taste of bile is thick in the back of my throat. I’m doing all I can to keep from having to puke into my trash can.
I lift my head at the sound of my office door opening and see my supervisor step in. Carl Kennedy, the Principal Attorney for our unit, has been working in the PD’s office about as long as I’ve been alive. He’s got a full head of snow-white hair, lines etched deep into his face, has a bit of a bulbous nose that’s usually red – which, along with his typically watery eyes – gives away his habit of tipping a few back. Not that he makes any bones about it. He never comes in drunk and is still exceptionally sharp. Carl really is one of the best lawyers I’ve ever been around. He probably forgets more every day than I’m ever going to know.
Carl ambles across my office and drops heavily into the chair across from me. I lean back in my seat, still fighting the urge to vomit, and give him what I know has to be a weak smile.
“Morning, Carl,” I croak.
“What did the doctor say?”
“They’ll call me this afternoon with some results.”
He nods and looks away from me. It’s then I notice the tension in his eyes and the set to his jaw. He’s typically a gruff but fairly jovial guy who’s got a good sense of humor about him. Oh, he’ll bite your head off if you give him a reason, but more times than not, you’ll find him laughing about something. But right now, he seems grim and troubled.
“Everything okay, Carl?”
He runs a hand over his face and lets out a long breath, and I can tell he’s doing his best to keep himself together. He gives me a smile that might be weaker than the one I gave him. That’s what tells me something is very wrong and immediately, I think somebody’s died.
“Carl, what’s wrong?”
He purses his lips and gives himself a small nod. “I spoke with Dwight earlier this morning.”
Dwight Watson is the man in charge of our office and a notorious asshole. We rarely see him down here in the main offices – he would never deign to mix with we commoners. Instead, he sits up in his ivory tower on the tenth floor, passing judgment and dispensing his brand of justice on us. So, the second I hear that Carl had spoken with him is the second I realize that nobody died, but it’s not good news for me.
In fact, if Dwight’s involved, I already know what’s coming next – I’m losing my job.
“Carl, you have got to be kidding me,” I start. “I give everything to this job. I’m the best lawyer you’ve got in this damn unit.”
“I know you are, Berlin,” he tells me. “You’re the most talented lawyer I’ve seen come through those doors – probably ever.”
“Then why, Carl? What did I do?”
He gives me an expression full of sorrow. “It’s the fucking picture those lowlife pieces of shit got of you.”
“What? You’re kidding me?” I gasp. “Not that I’m not embarrassed about it, but what does my personal life have to do with my ability to do this job?”
“It doesn’t. At least, I don’t think it does,” Carl replies. “I don’t think it matters for anything. What you choose to do in your own time is your own business, far as I’m concerned.”
“Then why am I being fired, Carl?”
“Because Dwight is worried about the politics of it all,” he sighs, sounding resigned. “And because he’s a coward.”
I prop my elbows up on the table and bury my face in my hands, doing my best to not only keep from vomiting but from bursting into tears as well. I can’t believe this is happening to me. I just can’t fucking believe it.
“He’s worried about how that picture is going to reflect on him,” Carl informs me. “Nothing more.”
“It’s not going to reflect on him,” I argue. “It has nothing to do with him.”
“I know that. I tried to tell him that,” he tells me, his voice thick with sympathy. “But like I told you, he’s a coward.”
Carl doesn’t even flinch when I slam my fist down on the desk. The force of the blow topples my pen cup and scatters my pens everywhere. They hit the floor with a clatter, and I watch them roll away, still numb with disbelief about what’s happening to me.
“So that’s it then. Some scumbag invades my privacy, snaps a picture of me on my own personal time, and I get fired for it,” I growl. “It’s not because I’m incompetent. Not because I’m corrupt. It’s because I chose to have sex with somebody. I’m being fired because I’m a woman who has needs and desires, and that man is uncomfortable with that.”
Carl sighs again and nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he confirms. “Dwight is a piece of shit, Berlin. And I’m sorry as hell about this. You don’t deserve this bullshit.”
“No I
