Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Deadliest Sin. ❯ Bad Day ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

I sighed.

Today was sooo not my day.

It was bad enough that I was stuck in the office all day --no court sessions, or client meeting today-- but did it have to be 25 degrees outside? Did the air conditioner have to be broken?

Of course it did.

It was Monday.

I hate Mondays.

I glanced at the clock on the bottom right-hand side of my computer screen, and groaned. It was only 1:33 in the after noon. This was going to be a very, very long day, it was hot as hell, and it was Monday.

Oh just great.

Maybe I could get Sam up here for a late lu-

“Ms. Johnson.” my secretary --Reneta-- said though the intercom located on the upper left hand side of my overly spaces desk. “There is a Ms. Renlds here to see you.”

Remarkable timing that woman had.

“Send her in.” I replied, grinning stupidly.

“Right away ma’am.”

Samantha Renlds. Was one of my few best friends, and also my roommate. She was always the first person I went to when I was in a tight situation, or when I needed advice. And she was usually always happy, and if she wasn’t happy you were feeling sorry for the idiot who made her pissed off. I’ve only ever see her depressed once, and only ever seen her cry twice. Depressed when her older brother --Terry-- died in a car accident six years ago. That was also the only time I had ever seen her cry. The second was when someone had told her that the only reason she had gotten the job as my former secretary was because we were ‘fuck buddies’.

That wasn’t entirely true . . . I had hired Sam because she was a very qualified employee, because she’d be able to keep me in line, and because she’d be able to help me quiet a lot with paper work. I had only thought of the side benefits --hot, steamy, lesbian, office sex-- afterwards. But Sam had quit after that little comment, and found a new well paying job in which she had no relations to the employer what so ever.

But we still had our hot, steamy, lesbian office sex from time to time. And because both of us were bisexual, we didn’t mind adding our good friend (not quiet best friend yet) Richard Takamari (when he wasn’t getting into trouble) into the mix. He didn’t really complain all that much.

My office door opened just then, and in walked my 24 (25 on the 3rd of October) year old best friend holding a giant order of Chinese take out.

Her long dirty blonde hair was pulled into a French braid, her bangs pulled off to the left side, covering a little bit of her left eye and she was wearing the same shit-eating grin that I was. Along with a pair of ripped and faded blue jeans, and a black t-shirt that had ‘Don’t Piss Me Off, I’m Running Out Of Places To Hide The Bodies’ in dripping red letters.

A typical Samantha outfit.

“You have unbelievably remarkable timing, Sam.” I said to her as she sat the food down on my desk. “I think you are now my favourite person in the world.”

“Wasn’t I already?” she asked as she took the seat opposite me. She waved a hand at all the papers that cluttered my desk. “What’s with all that crap?”

I gave her a dry look. “I’m a lawyer. That requires a lot of paper work.”

“Yeah.” she scoffed. “I remember, it killed my hand having to type it up for you.”

I flashed her my ‘suck it up’ grin, and opened the first box I got to.

Chicken Teriyaki!

This woman was a saint!

“You know me so well.” I said around the mouthful I had shoved unladylike down my throat. It burned.

She laughed. “Remember to chew before you swallow.”

I tried to tell her to shut up, but I just ended up making some strange gargled sound and spit some food out at her so I just closed my mouth and continued to chew.

We ate the rest of the food in silence, which was very unusual for Sam. She was usually the bubbly, talkative one of the two of us. She didn’t know how to shut up even when you wanted her to.

What gives?

“Something bothering you Sam?” I questioned, setting aside what was left in my box of food, I was full anyways.

Her body stiffened at my question, and she eyes flashed darkly for one brief second.

“Don’t even think about lying to me.” I snapped at her when I saw her eyes tighten the way they always did before she lied.

“How do you do that every damn time?”

“I’m trained for that kind of thing.”

She rolled her eyes, but sighed anyways. “Scar, I’ve got a seriously big problem here.”

“Whose girlfriend did you screw this time?”

That worked. She laughed.

“No ones, but I seriously fucked up last night. I got drunk, and ran into my boss --who was equally drunk, might I add.-- and we sort of . . Hit it off. You know what I mean? I’m not really one night stand kind of girl--” It was true. She wasn’t. “-- And this scared me. What am I supposed to do Scar? Should I quit, pretend it doesn’t happen? Or talk to him about it? I’m so confused and extremely humiliated.

Well this was new.

I’ve never been in that situation before --seeing as I was my own boss any everything-- and I honestly had no idea what I should tell her that she should do. So I went with a combination of the options she gave me. A compromise, if you will.

“Why don’t you play it out a little? See how he reacts to it, and decide from there. If he wants to pretend that nothing happened, go with that. If he wants to make a big deal about of it then that’s his problem. But if he gives you a hard time about it then just quit. I’m sure you can always find a new job if you need to. And if you don’t then I can make enough money for the both of us until you do.”

“I . . .” she took a breath, and smiled. “Sounds like a good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You didn’t think of it because I’m the genius.” I grinned stupidly at her. Waving my hand at her.

“Well ‘genius’ you just knocked your coffee all over you desk.”

“Ah shit!’ I cursed as I hastiy went about cleaning up as much of the coffee as I could. Luckily it didn’t spill on any of my notes. It’d be a bitch to re-write or re-type them all.

Sam jumped when Reneta spoke thought the intercom again. I didn’t, I was used to it by now.

“Me. Johnson, a mister Takamari is on line one for you.”

“Thank you Reneta.”

I picked up the phone, held up a hand to tell Sam to shut the hell up when she opened her mouth, and put the phone to my ear.

“Goof afternoon, Scarlet Johnson, criminal and family lawyer speaking, how can I help you?” Saying that was kind of routine.

“Hey Scar.” Richard’s familiar voice said through the receiver, and he sounded slightly nervous. “I need your help.”

“Doesn’t everybody? What do you need Rich?”

“I need a lawyer, obviously. I kind of accidentally totalled someone’s car, and their suing me.”

“You realized, of course, that if you are admitting to totalling their car then there is not a very high percentage of winning the case. Am I correct in assuming that you know this?”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop with the formal crap. But totalling it wasn’t really all my fault. I was parked! The idiot ran into me! It’s not really my fault if my truck took no damage.”

That damned truck of his could get run over by a tank . . And the tank would get hurt. I told him that.

“Still not my fault if he ran into me. Will you help me?”

I sighed. Oh well. Business was business, and it as a good thing that Richard got paid a lot. He needed my help at least twice a month.

“Yeah. And I’m charging you double because we are both aware of the fact that the chances of winning this case are very slim.”

“Fair enough.”

“how much is he suing you for?”

“Uh . . .sixty thousand dollars for repairs, plus emotional stress.”

“Sixty thousand for a car!? How badly it you total it!?”

“Lets just say that you couldn’t really tell it was a car after I was done.”

“How’d he get out unharmed?”

“Oh yeah! He’s charging me for medical bills too. Something about a large cut across his stomach or something. I forgot about that.

Again I sighed. “When can you get in to see me?”

“Uh . . .is six okay with you?”

I checked my scheduel, saw a thirty minute client meeting --how’d that get there!? I thought I was free for the day!-- at six.

“No, but six forty’s open. You want that?”

“Yeah. Thanks Scar, this means a lot!”

“No problem. See ya Rich.”

“Bye!”

I hung up the receiver, and hung my head.

“Well at least you’re getting paid.” Sam offered, and I had to laugh.

AS I walked Mrs, Wilson-- a thirty year old brunette who had filed for divorce when she found her husband cheating on her with her sister-- out the door at six thirty I wondered what the hell was wrong with some guys. Were they all assholes? Or just the ones that I knew?

“When Richard gets here you can just send him back and then go home if you like.” I told Reneta as I stopped in front of her desk on the way back to my office.

“Thank you ma’am.”

That woman was always so damn formal that it scared me sometimes.

“For Christ’s sake Reneta. Call me Scar, or Scarlet if you prefer. I’m sorry if I seemed a little rude but it bugs me when you’re always so damn formal.”

“Yes ma--” she stopped, paused then spoke again, this time quieter. “Yes Ms, Scarlet.”

I was instantly reminded of the board game clue, but I smiled at her anyways. At least it was an improvement.

“Good night Reneta.” I called as I closed my office door. I wasn’t sure if she replied or not.

I sat down at my desk, moved the notes I had taken for Mrs. Wilson’s case, and moved them into their folder. I then put that folder into the filing cabinet on the floor on my left. I blinked down at the open door, at all the files, the small boxes and I laughed a little. I was way too organised. No wonder Sam thought I was a nerd.

Rich would be here relatively soon, so I took out the necessary papers --charges, billable hours record, thing like that-- and filled them out to the best of my abilities. I only had a little bit of information as it was.

I idly wondered what it was with this man. Rich got into so much trouble it really wasn’t funny --okay, it was . . .a bit. But on a serious level, he got into so much legal trouble that he needed my help at least twice a month. It was a surprise he hadn’t done something to get his ass thrown in jail! Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d totalled a cop’s car.

A light knock came from my door, and I told him to come in while I filled out the last of the information I could.

“Reneta go home?” I asked him as he sat down. I didn’t look up.

“Yeah.” he replied, and I looked up at him. I almost laughed.

His dark brown hair was messy, --as was usual-- he was scowling at me as he sat in the chair with his arms crossed, a long sleeved red sweater adorned his chest, a pair of faded black jeans on his legs. And his right eye was swollen and black.

“Let me guess.” I said sarcastically. “The guy whose car you totalled did that to you.” I pointed to his eyes.

“Yeah. Damn cop can punch.”

My eyes widened. Hadn’t I just been thinking that it wouldn’t have surprised me if he totalled a cop’s car?

Yes. Yes I had.

“You ran over a cop’s car Rich?” he nodded.

“Didn’t I tell you that?” he asked.

“A cop?” he nodded again. “You’re kidding me!” he shook his head. “God damn it Rich!” He jumped.

“I know! I know! I’m sorry . . .I forgot to mention it . . .slipped my mind I guess.”

“You’re mind would slip right out of there if your skull didn’t block it’s way out.” I growled out, sighing.

He smirked. “Can we just get on with this?”

“Sure, sure.” I muttered, firing off questions I needed answered for the papers.

Well . . .at least I was getting paid for this!

Crap.

I slammed my forehead on the steering wheel of my black Mercedes and cursed.

Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap. CRAP!

Defiantly a bad day, defiantly not my day. Defiantly a Monday.

Why me? What had I ever done to deserve this!? Okay . . .don’t answer that. But it wasn’t like I was a criminal or anything!

But then again, the cop that pulled me over probably thought differently.

My day had been somewhat okay when I was in the office --even if I almost got heat stoke. My day had sucked more when I heard Rich’s story --the idiot had parked in the middle of the freaking street and the cop (not expecting him to stop) had rammed the front of his car into the back of Rich’s truck and ruined the engine. My day had gotten even worse when I got stuck in traffic.

But now my day was just plain horrible!

I’d been speeding --in a hurry to get home cuz it was ten o’clock at night and I was tired as hell-- and a cop had pulled me over.

CRAP!

Said cop was now standing outside my window, a ticket book in his hand.

He was a fairly cute cop. With short blonde hair and surprisingly warm smoky grey eyes, he kind looked like my type.

Maybe I could flirt my way out of a ticket.

“Hello officer.” I said sweetly, a sexy grin on my lips. His eyes drifted down to watch my smile. “Anything I can do for you?” I cocked an eyebrow and let my double meaning take affect. Just because I didn’t have any intention of doing anything with him didn’t mean he had to know it.

“You can give me you’re license and registration ma’am.” his voice was rough, held a slightly husky undertone to it, and hinted at something slightly seductive.

“Of course.” I reached across the gear shift to get the registration out of the glove box and pulled my purse up into my lap at the same time. I handed him the registration, and dug into my purse until I found my wallet. After opening it and pulling out my licence, I handed that to him as well.

“Were you aware that you were traveling twenty miles over the speed limit, ma’am?”

Only that low? I was sure I must have been going at least fifty over the limit. Oh well.

“I . . .uh . . .Not really. I’m sorry. I was just in a rush to get home.”

“Well Ms . . .Johnson?” his eyes widened at my name, and the way he had said it sounded more like a question.

Was he shocked to see my name or something? Sure I was a good lawyer, but I wasn’t good enough that anyone outside of my clients and the friend and family of those clients knew about me. Could he be a relation to one of my clients?

But why was this man so surprised to see my name? Had I been convicted of something that I was unaware of?

I hoped not.

“Well eh . . .Ms. Johnson, I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a ticket.”

“Ah, handsome, don’t do that.” I purred, fluttering my eyelashes stupidly and pushing myself towards him. It had the desired affect.

His eyes widened, he blinked several times, and his mouth opened only slightly. But other then that he kept his composure.

“I’m sorry ma’am. But it’s standard procedure. You were speeding, therefore I am required by law to give you a ticket. This is--” he was cut off my the walk-talky thinger that was attached to his right shoulder.

“Unit 926.” it said, he grabbed it, tilted his head towards it and spoke.

“Unit 926 here.”

“We’ve got a code nine in progress. All units are needed at 84th Hamilton Street.”

Hamilton Street. That was in the other direction than I was going.

Good.

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes, half an hour tops.” he turned to me, handed me back my licence and registration. “I’ll leave you with a warning this time. But next time you won’t be so lucky.”

He turned, and his name plate glinted in the light from his headlights.

My eyes widened.

That couldn’t be right.

That couldn’t’ be why he seemed surprised to see my name.

He was surprised because he knew me. Because I knew him, on a very personal level.

He knew me like no other man had ever known me. Knew me like no other man would ever know me.

I waited until I saw his tail lights fade into the distance before I started driving again. And this time I was flying across the pavement at twice the legal speed limit.

I had to see Sam.

Because Sam and I both knew him, both of us had loved him at one point. Both of us had done anything he had ever wanted us to, and yet received nothing in return.

He was the first man I fell in love with. The only man I had ever loved, the only man I could ever love. The man I still loved.

Out high school friend.

Nicholas Smith.

I was panting --having ran up the stairs instead of taking the elevator to our room cuz it was faster-- as I hastily shoved the key into the lock on our door. I cursed when I dropped it and had to bend to pick it up. I tried a second time, but this time a bit slower, and a bit less forceful.

The lock clicked and I the door open.

I flung my purse and my keys onto the table sitting under a little mirror by the door. I slammed said door hut and bolted to the living room, hoping to find Sam there. I wasn’t sure how much farther than the living room I’d be able to get now that my adrenaline was gone.

Luckily she was sitting on the couch, TV remote in hand, and had paused in her flipping through channels to look at me like I was clinically insane.

“Scar?” she asked, tilting her head to the side like she always did when she was curious. “Is there a reason you came in here like a battering ram?”

“I just . . .just saw . . .” I was breathing to heavily to actually pull in enough air to tell her.

“Here. Sit down, and I’ll get you some water. Kay?”

All I could do was manage to nod as I sank down into the couch like I was a pile of dead weight. And I was. I was dead weight.

Sure I was a fit person, I’d lost all my belly fat during high school, but I wasn’t an overly athletic person. Most of my muscle was in my arms, and even if the little muscle I had in my legs was for running it wasn’t meant for running up the stairs to the fifty-third floor.

Maybe I should have taken the elevator . . .

Sam walked in just then, holding one of the largest glasses we had, filled with water. I had caught most of my breath so it was no problem for me to gulp down the contents of the giant glass in no time.

When I was done she took the glass from me, set it on the coffee table, and pinned me with the ‘tell me everything’ look.

“You’re not going to believe who I just saw.” I began. My voice was soft, raw, and still slightly breathless.

“Elvis Presley? Dian Sawyer? George Cluny? Michael Jackson?”

“I’m being serious here!” I snapped. “No. You remember Nicholas Smith, don’t you?”

“Nick? Of course! How could I forget him?”

“He’s a cop now.”

“How do you know?” she questioned, a suspicious look in her eyes. “We haven’t’ talked to him in years.”

“I know that cuz he’s the cop that pulled me over and almost gave me a ticket.”

“Seriously!?”

“No. I’m kidding. Ha ha?” I snapped, glaring. I was tired damn it! “Of course I’m being serious!”

“That’s awesome! I guess he finally got his dream job! That’s amazing!”

“Yeah. Pretty awesome.”

“Wait. He almost gave you a ticket. Why almost, and what for?”

“For speeding, and he got called down to 84th Hamilton Street before he could write me out one. A code nine in progress.”

“Code nine?”

“A robbery.”

“Well why the hell don’t they just say that!?”

I laughed at her. “Cuz they like being mysterious.” I said in a husky voice.

“Mysterious my ass.” she hissed, shaking her head. “I just think they don’t want people to know what the hell their doing.”

“Hence the mystery.” I replied, standing. My legs were a little wobbly, but they were strong enough to carry me down to my room.

I walked to my dresser, pulled out a small sleep tank top, and short shorts from the top drawer. Squirming out og my suit and high heels I slipped on the much more comfortable lose clothing. Sleeping clothes were always much more comfortable than work clothes.

I pushed back the black silk covers of my bed, climbed in and sighed as I laid my head on the pillow.

Well at least my day had been good enough that I didn’t get a ticket, but did I have to see Nick again?

This was going to bug me for a long time. Knowing that he was in the same city as me, knowing that it could be possible to run into him again. But I hoped I didn’t run into him by actually running into him with my car.

The last thing I wasn’t to do was kill him!