“Josh who? We broke up.”
“You’re kidding! When?”
“Mmm, yesterday.”
“And you’re onto somebody new already?”
“Why sit home?”
“Fast work, even for you. I’m impressed.”
“Get with the program, bebé. You should take a page from my book.”
“Yeah, right, I’ll give it some thought. So, listen, what time are you going out?”
“Uh-oh. I feel a request to baby-sit coming on.”
“If you’re volunteering, I accept, but that’s not why I called.”
“So you’re not working late tonight?”
“Well, actually I am, but-”
“Again? Your bodacious ass should quit that job, chica.”
“Right. As long as Maya and I can live with you, because then we’ll be destitute.”
“I’m serious. That boss of yours is a rhymes-with-witch.”
“You’re not the only one who thinks so, but this isn’t on her.”
“For God’s sake, it’s almost Christmas, Mel.”
“Tell it to the bad guys. They’re the ones making me work late. Anyway, I need a favor, and it’s not baby-sitting. It’s more in your skill set, sis.”
JUST AS MELANIE was grabbing her coat to run home and steal some precious moments with Maya, the phone on her desk rang. The caller ID displayed Bernadette’s extension. Melanie did the calculation in her head-how fast she could sprint to the elevator versus how long it would take Bernadette to get out to the hall and catch her. Drat!
She reached for the receiver. “Yes, Bern.”
“Hey, girlfriend, I need an update on the Holbrooke ODs case.”
“Okay, sure, no problem. We-”
“Not now. I’m on a conference call. Six-thirty, my office.”
And Bernadette hung up. Melanie kicked her desk in frustration. Why the helldja call me if you were already on the phone? Now she was stuck waiting around, using up what was likely to be her only personal time for days to come. She tried not to feel sorry for herself, but really, she missed her daughter. Linda was right-it was holiday season, December 18 at 6:10 A.M, to be exact. Not many shopping days left till Christmas. Shouldn’t she be home? Everyone else in the world was partying or decorating the tree or spending time with family. Wait a minute, though, not everyone. Not Carmen Reyes. Or Brianna Meyers or Whitney Seward. Melanie reminded herself why she did this job.
The thought of Christmas shopping made her crazy, though. Between work and Maya’s being sick, she hadn’t had time to get anything for her poor little daughter. She looked at her watch. Twenty minutes until Bernadette wanted to see her. Hmm, the miracle of the Internet. She knew she wasn’t supposed to, but…
Melanie went online, searching for toys for Maya. She wanted a doll with dark hair and pudgy cheeks, one that looked like Maya. The selection on Amazon was vast, but nothing seemed to fit the bill. Dolls with bottles. Dolls that wet and cried real tears. Dolls that smelled like baby powder. Dolls with removable clothes to teach zipping and buttoning skills. None of them had the right look. Finally, time running out, Melanie started looking at storybooks instead. She didn’t spend enough time reading with Maya. Heck, she didn’t spend enough time doing anything with Maya.
“Melanie Vargas, what do you think you’re up to?”
Melanie nearly fell out of her chair.
“Bernadette, I-”
“Your office Internet connection is reserved for official government business!” Bernadette snapped, looming over Melanie’s desk.
“Yes, I know. I-”
“Yeah, since when is Dora the Explorer official business?”
“I’m sorry. I had a few extra minutes while I waited for you to-”
“I never hold this single-motherhood thing against you, Melanie. I even assign you a high-profile case. In exchange, I expect to see some discipline.”
“Look, Bernadette, I apologize. It won’t happen again. And you don’t need to worry. Everything is under control on the Holbrooke case. We have a promising new angle, a cooperator-”
Melanie’s phone rang. Saved by the bell! It was her boss’s secretary, Shekeya Jenkins, calling to say Vito Albano was on the line for Bernadette.
“I’ll take it in my office,” Bernadette said. “You, come with me. I swear, I have to watch you every second.”
Melanie’s face went hot with indignation, but she held her tongue and followed Bernadette down the hall to her corner suite, which sat at the intersection of the two corridors housing the Major Crimes Unit. BERNADETTE DEFELICE, CHIEF, screamed the brass nameplate, all in caps. Why did it seem like every time she walked into her boss’s office, Melanie’s stomach was upset for one reason or another? She wasn’t alone in this: Everyone else’s relationship with Bernadette was the same way. Yet as much as she resented her boss, she admired her, too. Bernadette was exciting, dynamic, and good at her job. She got things done. She had the best Rolodex in the business and therefore brought in the best cases. She recruited talented prosecutors and demanded the best work from them. Too bad she accomplished all that by wielding a stick instead of a carrot, but still, Melanie wouldn’t trade the experience for anything less dramatic or interesting.
“Wait here!” Bernadette commanded as they entered the anteroom.
Shekeya Jenkins looked up from her computer screen, contemplating Melanie sympathetically. Shekeya had been Bernadette’s secretary for years, the only one who’d ever lasted in the position. A big woman with elaborate braids bleached orangey red, long, gem-studded fingernails, and a sharp tongue, Shekeya was one of the few people in the office who could do battle with Bernadette on equal terms.
“What she on you about now?” Shekeya asked, blowing a bubble with Day-Glo pink bubble gum.
“She caught me doing my Christmas shopping online while I was waiting to meet with her.”
“Girl, don’t listen to that bullshit. I shop online all the time and e-mail my psychic, too. The boss don’t so much as look cross-eyed at me.”
“She’s probably afraid to, Shekeya.”
Shekeya laughed and slapped her knee. “You got that right! Get back in her face is all is takes. And I know you know how if you want to.”
“So what are you still doing here at this hour?” Melanie asked. Shekeya was normally gone by 4:55 at the latest.
“I can’t do a little overtime if I feel like it?” she asked, working the bubble gum with her tongue.
“Oh, I get it. Christmas and all. I could use some extra cash myself.” Unfortunately, attorneys didn’t get paid overtime for putting in additional hours the way support staff did. Melanie’s base salary was significantly higher, but she was expected to work as hard as it took to get the job done without additional compensation.
“No, it ain’t even about that,” Shekeya was saying. “You’ll be seein’ me around here all hours from now on. Khadija just got accepted in private school starting next semester. Public schools in my neighborhood suck. I want to give her the best possible chance in life, you know?”
“I’m with you there. I feel exactly the same way.”
“Got to pay for it somehow. So I went in to see the boss, told her I was picking up a night job cleaning, and she say to me, why not do the extra hours here? There’s always some filing or some shit needs doin’.”
Since all the lawyers on the unit pretty much did their own word processing, Shekeya’s job was limited to answering Bernadette’s telephone, filling out the occasional requisition form, doing her nails-and, apparently, online shopping and psychic consulting. Obviously Bernadette had just been trying to help Shekeya out. That was the thing about Bernadette. Just when you were most disgusted with her, she’d do something truly humane, and you’d say, Oh, if only she’d act like that all the time, how much better would life be?