Chance Encounter || Willow & Open
This was how days normally went: Willow wound find herself in the office with a mound of paperwork her secretary would leave her. Sign on this, dot on this, do this for this. There would be a few phone calls she would receive for her to hear what was currently going on in her client’s lives. Most of the time her calls consisted of her scolding them for actions they shouldn’t have done – such light their soon-to-be-ex-spouse’s car on fire. Truly, adults turned into children when divorce papers came up to the surface.
After sorting through papers and taking the occasional call, she would find herself in a few meetings with some clients. Where, again, she was scolding them for their actions and telling them what they could do to remedy the situation. She’d introduce a one of the two lawyers she had working for her and leave them to deal with their clients on their own. She was still new to this. That meaning that most of the time she wanted to pull her hair out or drown her sorrows into alcohol the way her mother did.
Today was one of those days.
An exasperated sigh slipped through her lips a she brought the glass of wine to her lips. Her body was literally sinking into the chair supporting her, wanting to just meld with the furniture and just exist without some “higher” meaning. This was all foolish, really. Sometimes she believed she was in over her head opening up a Limited Liability Practice in family law; she really did. Wouldn’t it have been easier – both economical and just overall – to have joined a big lawyer company and get paid to live in some high riser over New York City?
No, she had decided that opening up a practice where her deceased best friend lived (and also putting her best friend’s name in her practice’s name) would be the best thing for her to do. At this point, Willow let out a low moan as she finished off the rest of her wine. “I need another drink,” she murmured to herself, pulling herself off of the chair to find her way around the bar. Upon reaching it, she squeezed between two people and muttered an apology to the person on her left for elbowing them. It happens, right? “Whiskey neat, please. It’s been a long day. And…” Turning to the person on her left, she cocked her head towards the person. “Whatever they’re having, it’s on me. For the bump. Not entirely sure if you spilled your drink or not.”















