Quid Pro Quo

Author's note: This is my first story so please feel free to send me any comments, criticism, or other suggestions, I would really appreciate it! Also, I'm toying with the idea of turning this into a longer series if people like it, so let me know if you'd like more or if you'd rather I write something else.

*****

For a week, Kathleen's stomach had been full of butterflies. It had been over a year since she graduated law school, and the job market had been fiercely competitive. She'd burned reams of paper sending out resumes, with nothing to show for it other than a three-month temporary position helping with document review at Pierce & Hatwell. In the meantime, her part-time job at the local library kept her fed, but it wasn't paying her student loans.

Two weeks ago, Kathleen had gotten an interview with Baker, Copperfield, & Schmidt, a small but prestigious firm with a long-standing reputation. Kathleen had researched the firm extensively: its history, its typical client profile, recent cases, anything and everything she could get her hands on. She even called up her favorite professor and asked her for her advice.

"They are very good," Kathleen had been told, "They know their stuff, and they're diligent. There's a reason they have clients who've been with them for decades. I think the best suggestion I can give you is go in prepared. And if you get the job, take it. I don't think I've ever heard of an attorney leaving the firm except to retire or take a judicial appointment. By all accounts, it's a great firm to work for."

Then they called Kathleen to have her come in for a second interview. After the interview, she threw up. After they offered her the job, she cried. And when her first day at work finally came, her butterflies had butterflies.

Focus, Kathy, she told herself, One thing at a time. There's time to be nervous later. At least she could look confident. She'd woken up an hour early to give herself plenty of time to do her makeup just right and curl her hair into flowing auburn waves. Her outfit had been planned for a week. She'd picked a knee-length black pencil skirt that perfectly hugged her shapely ass and showed off her athletic legs, and paired it with a crisp new blue blouse, purchased just for the occasion. The blouse was fitted enough to show off her hourglass figure, but loose enough to de-emphasize her large breasts. Attractive, but conservative and professional. She admired herself in the mirror, turning back and forth. Gotta look good on your first day, she thought, smirking to herself.

Charlie Schmidt met her in the lobby. He was a thin, balding man with bright green eyes that shone when he smiled to greet her, "Kathleen, great to see you again. Excited for the first day?"

"Very," Kathleen replied honestly. "Maybe a little nervous too."

"I can believe that, I was nervous on my first day too," Mr. Schmidt confided with a chuckle, "You'll be fine, I've seen you in action. You may not remember, I was on the judges panel for your mock trial competition."

"I do remember. You ruled against me," Kathleen was a bit embarrassed to realize he remembered her, given that she'd lost.

Mr. Schmidt just laughed, "You had a losing hand; the facts just weren't on your side. But your arguments were creative. If you have that, you can learn the rest. Shall we begin the tour?"

Kathleen agreed and followed Mr. Schmidt through the firm as he gave her the tour. Glass walled conference rooms filled with sleek, modern furniture stood in stark contrast to offices with old fashioned desks and intense, beleaguered men. Finally, Kathleen was introduced to her legal assistant, Nicole, a tall blonde, almost the same age as Kathleen, but with a perpetual look of jaded amusement in her blue eyes.

"And here we are," Mr. Schmidt announced when they arrived at what would be Kathleen's office. Kathleen didn't see it, she only had eyes for the view through the large window that took up the entirety of the back wall. Kathleen was eye level with the other buildings of the Financial District, looking down on the bustle of Congress Street and, off to the corner, she could see the edge of the nearby park. It wasn't as good a view as some of the offices had, but still amazing for an entry-level associate attorney.

Eventually, Kathleen took in the office as well. A dark, L-shaped wooden desk faced the door, with two chairs off to the side for guests, and empty bookcases lined the room. It was cold and spartan and in desperate need of decorating. Kathleen was excited by the prospect. That excitement, however, was tempered by the one thing taking up space on her desk: a tall pile of files with dozens of little colored tabs and sticky notes.

Mr. Schmidt gestured to the pile with a sympathetic smile, "I see some of the partners have left you a couple files to get started with. I'll be down the hall if you need anything, but otherwise, I'll leave you to it. We're glad to have you on board."

And with that, Kathleen was alone in her office. My office. Just thinking those words felt weird. She had to sit and stare at her desk and focus on her breathing for several minutes just to start to feel normal. After more than a year of job-panic, sitting in her very own office felt surreal; she couldn't shake the dread that, at any moment, someone would wake her up from this dream so she could check her email and see "0 unread messages" again.

"Knock knock," came a cheerful voice from the doorway. Kathleen looked up to see Nicole leaning against the doorway with a faint smile.

"Just wanted to check in and see if you needed anything. How's the first day going?"

Kathleen gestured to her pile of files, "Looks like I'm jumping in the deep end. It'll take me a moment to get settled, but I appreciate you checking in."

"What did they put you on first?" Nicole asked curiously as she stepped into the room to peer at the pile.

Kathleen inspected the first file in the pile, and read the title and the post-it on the front, "Randall - Mill Street Mall. 2:30pm today."

"Winston Randall?" Nicole sounded surprised.

"That's the one. Looks like it's just a preliminary meeting to get info on some new development project. Why, do you know him?"

"He has a bit of a reputation as a hard- well, as being difficult to work with," Nicole explained in a tone that suggested there might be other ways she would have phrased her description had she not been at work. "He's good friends with Gary Copperfield but he chews up everyone else. I'm kind of surprised they're throwing you at him solo on day one. Although..." Nicole's voice trailed off while her face went through a complicated dance routine of emotions.

After an expectant moment, Kathleen prompted her, "What?"

"Well... I don't know if it was intentional - and if it was, it's kind of brilliant? Or disgusting? Maybe both. I mean, if it was intentional, it is definitely kind of disgusting, but maybe also brilliant...?"

"If what was intentional?" Kathleen interrupted impatiently.

Nicole explained, "Mr. Randall is... how do I put this? Very susceptible to womanly charms..."

"He's a skirt chaser?"

"Total manwhore," Nicole confirmed with a mischievous giggle. "Something like four divorces all with allegations of affairs, that sort of thing. And where you're the first female attorney the firm has hired, it's possible that Copperfield thought Mr. Randall would be... nicer to you? Than to any of the other associates?"

Kathleen hadn't known she was the first female attorney. It didn't strike her as that odd, a small, old, connected firm probably started as a bit of an old-boys club, and where they stay small, with no turnover, and only rarely bring new people in... they probably didn't have a lot of opportunities to move away from that... On the other hand, maybe they didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt if this was how they were going to treat their first female attorney.

"You said 'possibly?'" Kathleen asked.

Nicole nodded, "Yeah. For all I know they just put you on it because he's a big client and you might as well meet him sooner rather than later. I mean, no matter what else, they wouldn't put you on the case if they didn't think you could handle it. They wouldn't put the firm up to that risk, so maybe I'm imagining things."

Kathleen didn't respond; she had too many thoughts swirling in her head. Instead she slumped into her office chair to process them. Was Nicole right? If so, should she be angry? Either way, could she use it to her advantage and get an otherwise demanding client to be more pliable? Would that make her a bad person? Or a practical one? Kathleen groaned in frustration and decided to focus on the client file in front of her, trying to push all existential dilemmas from her head.

Later that afternoon, Nicole stuck her head in Kathleen's office to let her know that Mr. Randall had arrived and was in the west conference room waiting for her. "And don't forget," Nicole whispered conspiratorially, "If he gets too frustrating, just bat your eyelashes and you'll have him wrapped around your finger."

Kathleen chuckled and rolled her eyes. She had worked through her turmoil and came out the other end satisfied. It was a fool's errand to try to guess what the senior partners were thinking. Instead, she had resolved to simply prove herself by the quality of her work.

William Randall was a tall, lanky man with pale blue eyes, thin lips, and white hair trimmed in a short military cut. His suit was classically styled but clearly well tailored, complimenting him well enough to make him actually look somewhat handsome, despite his age. Kathleen had to admit, she could see how he kept attracting potential ex-wives. If you wanted a rich old guy, you could do far, far worse.

"Mr. Randall, it's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Kathleen Hooper. Can we get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

Mr. Randall shook her hand and held it while his eyes swept over Kathleen, lingering on her body, drifting over every curve. Kathleen, grateful she'd dressed fairly modestly today, diplomatically ignored it.

"Yes, Coffee, cream, no sugar," Mr. Randall responded, "Thank you sweetheart. And quietly, please, I'll be making some phone calls until Gary arrives." And with that, Mr. Randall sat down at the conference table and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Kathleen looked at Nicole. Nicole returned her look with eyes that said, "I told you so." Kathleen took a deep breath and whispered to her, "Just grab his coffee, please? I'll... clear things up."

Turning back to Mr. Randall, Kathleen announced, "Actually, Mr. Randal, your meeting is with me today. We haven't had a chance to be introduced, I'm a new attorney," she emphasised the word just slightly, "here at Baker, Copperfield, & Schmidt. Gary asked me to meet with you and get the preliminary information on your new development so that we can get started on the permits and regulatory approvals you'll need."

Mr. Randalls eyes narrowed and his gaze turned flinty.

"New attorney..." he tested the words skeptically, "how new are you?"

"Today is my first day," Kathleen admitted.

Mr. Randall scoffed, "And where were you working before that?"

"Pierce & Hatwell," Kathleen responded quickly, thankful that she'd taken that crappy temp position after all.

Mr. Randall, however, only scowled deeper, "And how many real estate development projects have you worked on?"

Kathleen tried to dodge the question, "Mr. Randall, I assure you, I'm quite capable of assisting you and your company in this matter."

"And yet your refusal to answer a simple question does not engender confidence. This is your first, I take it. And your first day at this firm, which means you are neither familiar with my company nor the industry in general. You're probably two years, at most, out of law school. This is a 30 million dollar project, and you're..."

Mr. Randall's tirade was interrupted by the arrival of Nicole and the coffee.

"I might as well have your secretary here assisting me," he concluded.

Kathleen was on the verge of tears. She didn't know whether they were tears of anger at the way Mr. Randall was treating her, frustration that she'd probably be fired if she stood up and slapped him, or fear that she was going to be fired anyway for completely blowing her first assignment and pissing off such an important client. How could she prove herself if she wasn't given the chance? Worse, if they had thought Mr. Randall would be nicer to a woman, her failure to make any progress would be even more damning. Finding legal jobs in this city was hard enough, with few positions and fierce competition. How would she find her next job with the stigma of being fired her first week around her neck?

Mr. Randall, however, was far too distracted to notice Kathleen's inner turmoil. Instead, his eyes were fixated on Nicole's long legs and tight butt as she leaned forward to deliver the coffee.

"Thank you, darling," he said, taking the mug from Nicole's hands. His fingers brushed hers as he grasped it. He sipped it, never taking his gaze off Nicole, and then declared, "Delicious."

Desperate, Kathleen took advantage of his distraction. Quickly, before she could think about what she was doing and change her mind, she unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. It gaped enough that, looking down, her cleavage would be clearly visible. At the same time, it was little enough that, hopefully, Mr. Randall would think nothing had changed, and that he simply hadn't noticed before.

After Nicole left, mouthing a sympathetic "good luck" on her way out, Kathleen turned back to Mr. Randall.

"Mr. Randall," She began with more confidence than she felt. Kathleen planted her elbows on the conference room table and leaned forward. Apparently unintentionally, her blouse fell open, giving Mr. Randall a minor, tantalizing view of the soft curve of her cleavage. Mr. Randall's eyes drifted down into that gap and stayed put.

"You're correct. I'm a newly minted attorney, without Gary's experience in these matters. But Gary is still going to be actively involved in this project. Regardless of Gary's experience, it never hurts to have a second set of hands involved, and my involvement allows Gary to delegate many tasks to me. This allows him to focus on the higher priority and big picture issues, and simultaneously allows us to serve you more efficiently and cost effectively."

Although Mr. Randall's eyes never left Kathleen's cleavage, he nodded thoughtfully and made no objection at all. Emboldened, Kathleen leaned forward just a little bit more. The gap in her blouse, and Mr. Randall's eyes, widened.

"And as for my familiarity with your company, I have access to all your files and have thoroughly reviewed all the material for this development. And I assure you, I am willing to put in all the time necessary," Kathleen continued, putting the slightest suggestive inflection on her willingness to put in extra time, "to become fully informed on all aspects of your business. I guarantee you will have no cause for complaint. So unless you have any other questions, let's talk about what I can do to help you."

When she finished, she sat back in her chair, taking Mr. Randall's view away. For the first time since Nicole left, Mr. Randall's eyes found Kathleen's.

Mr. Randall grunted, "Yes, well, that's... That's all well and good. Very well. I appreciate your tenacity. Let's talk about the Mill Street property then, shall we?"

Inside, Kathleen danced with victory. Mr. Randall, who was too terrifying for a new associate, already vanquished. And who cared if she used some feminine wiles to keep him in line? She'd prove to him and, more importantly to Gary Copperfield, that she was more than capable. If a little cleavage makes him more pleasant, what's the harm? Kathleen rationalized.

Outwardly, however, Kathleen kept her demeanour poised and professional. She stood up and retrieved a rolled up plan of the property and walked around the conference table to stand next to Mr. Randall. Mr. Randall's eyes followed her every move.

"May I?" she asked. When Mr. Randall nodded, she bent forward over the table and began to spread the plan out across its surface. Mr. Randall slid his chair back to give her more room and to give himself a better vantage point. Kathleen could feel his gaze crawling up her legs, from her heels up to her skirt, and lingering on her round ass under her tight skirt. A part of her felt disgusted and objectified. But a part of her was flattered by the intensity of his attention. And the largest part of her was just proud of herself for handling a difficult situation, albeit unconventionally, and relieved that she wouldn't be getting fired so soon.

The plan spread out, Kathleen pivoted to face Mr. Randall. Still bent forward, her blouse hung open, giving him a direct line of sight down her blouse to the swell of her pale breasts. Mr. Randall sat, transfixed.

"So, why don't you walk me through what you're hoping to do to this real estate, Mr. Randall."

At the mention of his name, Mr. Randall looked up at Kathleen, "Please, call me Winston."

From there, it was smooth sailing. Winston walked Kathleen through his plans for a new lifestyle center, with shopping, restaurants, walking paths, and a nearby apartment complex. Kathleen did her best to keep up, despite Mr. Randall's persistent use of esoteric lingo and references to individuals she'd never heard of by only their first name, or worse, a nickname. She thanked herself for spending so much time preparing and familiarizing herself with the project. At least she could follow along and figure out the details later.

But Winston didn't give her a chance. Once he finished running through his explanation of the project, he looked Kathleen in the eye and asked, "So, what're we looking at for a timeline from your end? What're the first steps?"

Kathleen had no idea. But she couldn't let Winston know that. He'd started out so skeptical of her inexperience, if he learned those concerns were justified...

"At this stage, Winston, any answer would be speculative." Kathleen equivocated, "As I'm sure you know, there are always surprises, and I'd hate to give you inaccurate information. Here's what I propose: let me review everything we've discussed today and start putting together a game plan with Gary. And at some point, I'd like to actually visit the site with you, and get a first-hand sense of what we'll be working with as well as the surrounding area, and then we can go from there."

Winston's face lit up when she mentioned visiting the site, "That's a wonderful idea. I'll give you the tour myself."

Kathleen was relieved when Winston left and she could finally stop pretending to know everything about construction and real estate law. She returned to her office, closed the door, and decided to have a small panic attack.

***

This isn't a date, Kathleen thought to herself the next day, So why are you spending so much time deciding what to wear as if it were? Kathleen was sitting on her bed, staring at her closet. In it, on the left, were all of her professional looking clothes: smart skirts, modest blouses, pant suits, everything she needed to look professional, reliable, respectable, and, unfortunately, boring. If yesterday had been any indication, Winston had two modes: horrible and horny. Any of her work-appropriate attire would likely leave him firmly in the former. But was she really willing to manipulate him and let him leer at her just to impress her new boss?

Yes, Kathleen decided, Yes I am. This job was the opportunity of a lifetime. She had to excel. And so she selected a v-neck blouse and a skirt that was just a couple inches too short for the office, with four-inch heels to match. It was an outfit that would show enough skin to keep Winston pleasant, while still looking at least somewhat professional enough to maintain plausible deniability. But not enough that Kathleen didn't bring another outfit to change into before returning to the office.