Love and Miss Communication by Elyssa Friedland Read Free Book Online Page B

really up to snuff. Or could there be some secret society–like initiation process where she’d be blindfolded and forced to drink a drop of blood from the pinkies of each of the partners on the executive committee? She didn’t like the sound of Mitchell’s voice on the phone. Why did everyone at her firm have to sound so formal? She wished they would just say, “Hey, get up here, we want to give you a huge office and loads of money.”
    “Sure, I’ll be right up,” she muttered, and grabbed her ID card so she could access the executive-level conference floor.
    Two minutes later, she found herself seated across from the five members of the partnership committee. Mitchell was scanning his BlackBerry and did not look up when she entered, which seemed peculiar. The conference room had one wall of solid glass and the afternoon sun streamed through, forcing Evie to squint while she faced the grim-looking partners. She steeled her body against the powers that be. The long mahogany table around which the partners were seated was covered in boxes filled withpapers—the kind used for due-diligence projects. There had to be at least ten of them, each overflowing. Good grief, please let this not be the mound of paperwork she’d be expected to review in her newest assignment.
    “Evie,” Patricia Douglas, the freshest member of the partnership committee and a highly regarded litigator, said. “You know how outstanding we think your work has been since you’ve joined the firm. Your reviews have been consistently glowing.”
    “Thank you. I really try my best.” When nobody cracked a smile, Evie wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have responded.
    “As you know, the choice of who makes partner at Baker Smith is not one that we take lightly.”
    No shit . Out of her entering associate class of 120, only 5 or 6 had a shot at partnership. Evie barely knew her competition. The other associates whose names were being whispered in the hallways worked in different departments and rarely, if ever, surfaced at firm social events. The rest of the associates from her entering class had been gradually weeded out over an eight-year period. Blood, sweat, and tears were expected by-products of the journey. And still there were no guarantees for those still standing. It could be one careless error in a closing document. Or a faux pas at a client meeting. She was immensely proud of herself for not having made any missteps, at least none big enough to come to the attention of upper management.
    “However,” Patricia continued, “there is something concerning that has recently come to our attention. About your performance.”
    Suddenly, the temperature climbed to Bikram Yoga proportions. What could this be about? She couldn’t remember ever feeling so clueless and so unsure of what was coming next.
    A million thoughts raced through her mind at once, but none of them made much sense. She’d once feigned a terrible cold toget out of a mentoring program so she could attend a special event at Jack’s restaurant. Who could have known she was lying? She’d purposely ducked out of pictures that were Instagram-bound. More recently, she had forgotten to mute her phone while on a call with the Calico accountants and had made an appointment for a haircut on her cell phone simultaneously. But those were hardly capital offenses.
    “Evie, do you see all these papers on the table?”
    Of course she did. She nodded yes.
    “Do you have any idea how many papers are here?”
    Evie shook her head no. What was this? A guess-how-many-jelly-beans-are-in-the-jar contest?
    “Ten thousand,” Patricia said. “Actually, more than that. And do you know what’s in those papers?”
    Evie looked down at the floor, unable to blink, and watched as the checked pattern of the carpet took on a distorted and frightening pattern.
    “Doc review?” Evie whispered. “For my next project. The tech merger.” Her voice lilted upward, like a little girl’s.
    “No, they