Disastrous (Disastrous 1) - Page 29

“Oh nothing, just not hungry I guess. I was really busy this morning with all the files Marcus gave me that I can’t even think about food.” I lied. I’m starting to get good at this lying stuff. Maybe I should make a career out of it; oh right, I am. Jeremy, of course, was oblivious and popped another fry into his mouth, and then he continued to talk about how awesome his first few hours were. Blah! Blah!


When I walked back into “my” office, I saw that Marcus had left a few files on my desk with a typed note that read, “Review each file and the discovery. Each file has a post-it note of what needs to be done. ‘If you have any questions, contact Lisa. Thanks, M.D.’”

Great! I guess this means we are strictly off limits. He’s such an asshole! He could have at least given them to me in person. So our working relationship will be us avoiding each other and placing work back and forth on our desks. Just awesome! I shook my head and exhaled. Screw it, I’m here to build my resume and gain experience; I might as well get it over with.

The first file I grabbed was labeled State vs. Johnny Di Angele. The post-it note required that I review the file and discovery and locate case law similar to this case regarding self-defense. It was a murder case. I pulled the discovery out of the file and began doing what I was told to do.

The Di Angele case was very intriguing. Our client was at a local bar with a friend; they got into an argument. He left the bar alone and began walking home. Another man held our client at gunpoint for his wallet. Our client, when pulling out his wallet, decided to grab his pocket knife instead; he quickly jabbed the knife into the robber who was standing behind him and ran for it. The robber pulled the trigger and shot our client who fell and passed out. There were no witnesses and no surveillance cameras in the area. A nearby neighbor heard the gunshot and called police. When the police arrived at the scene, both our client and the robber were taken to the hospital.

The robber was stabbed in the chest, and he lost too much blood. He was pronounced dead by the time he arrived at the hospital. Our client was treated for his injuries and questioned. After he was interrogated, they arrested him, and he was charged with first-degree murder. The case was dropped down to third-degree murder at the preliminary. There was a jury trial scheduled for the end of next month. I hoped I could sit in on the trial and watch the case unfold; that would be cool. After an hour I had researched a few cases similar to this case, prepared memos, and began working on the next file.

I was so consumed with the research and work I’d done that I didn’t realize the time. I heard a knock at the door and told whoever it was to come in. Jeremy popped his head in.

“Ready to go? It’s after five, and I tried calling you.” I looked around for my phone then realized it was in my purse.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Jeremy. Give me two minutes.” I pulled together the files I worked on that day and piled them on top of each other. I shut the computer down, grabbed the work and my things and headed for the door. “I have to put these files in Marcus’ office. I’ll be back.” I knocked on his door. Thankfully he didn’t answer which meant he wasn’t there, so I walked in and placed them on top of his desk with a post-it note that read, “All done. Thanks, M.S.”

This time on our drive back home I was talkative; we were discussing how interesting the criminal law field is. I didn’t mention the case itself, but I did tell him about all the case law I’d researched in self-defense murder cases. The work kept me so busy I didn’t have time to think about Marcus. Now, that I was almost home, and my thoughts weren’t occupied by work, my mind raced back to him. I started thinking about our weekend and how he asked me to give him a chance to trust him and that he wouldn’t hurt me. I’m not one of those girls that are clingy and try every way to get a man’s attention, but I just had to get one thing off my chest before I shut him out emotionally. I grabbed my phone out of my purse and sent him a text.

Me (5:45pm): You asked for a chance, you had your chance. Now it’s gone.

The minute I sent it I wanted to take it back. My heart started pounding when all of his possible reactions to my text came to mind. Would he be angry? Or would he even care? I hated those mind games when two people started dating. Sometimes I wish I could read minds, so that the truth is always put out there. Then I would never have doubts or second guess a person’s facial expression or a comment that I may have taken out of context.

We arrived at the apartment, and I was exhausted. It was my turn to cook that night, and I really didn’t want to. I convinced Jeremy we should have pizza, which was not hard to do since it’s his favorite food. I placed the order and told him to watch out for the door, so I could take a long shower. I ran the shower and tested the temperature. It was still cold, so I walked back into my bedroom to grab a new towel.

I tested the water again; this time it was nice and warm. I hopped in and scrubbed away all of the day’s tension. Ugh, what am I going to do about DeLuca? If my brother were still alive, he would have been the perfect person to talk to about this. He always gave me great advice about men. I told him about everything—well everything minus my sex life; that would’ve been too awkward.

I grabbed the shampoo and massaged it into my hair. Afterwards I leaned my head back and allowed the warm water to rinse out the suds. The water felt really good, and my tension was slowly releasing. I massaged conditioner in my hair, and I lathered the body wash one more time on every inch of my body.

Cutting the shower off, I walked out onto the tile floor. Heading towards the bathroom sink, I started my nightly routine: brushing my teeth, flossing, and untangling my hair. For my final touch of the day, I rubbed night cream on my face and neck. I tightened the towel wrapped around me and opened the bathroom door. My eyes popped out of my head when I saw Marcus sitting on my bed, staring at me.

“W-what are … h-how did?” I stuttered, not able to complete a question.

“Jeremy told me you were taking a shower. I asked if it would be okay to wait in here.” I was frozen, but managed to step out of the bathroom and into my room. I couldn’t read his facial expression. His face was smooth; he didn’t look upset, but yet he didn’t look happy. I leaned against the dresser next to me to hold myself up.

“What do you want?”

“I received your text. I came over as soon as I got it.”

“Oh?” I gulped in air, not knowing what else to say. I didn’t expect him to fly over here; a simple reply would’ve done.

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