Spencer sighed and sipped her cappuccino. Here she was, Monday afternoon sitting in a small caf� reading the paper and having some coffee, all by herself. How pathetic was that? She could’ve at least dragged her assistant with her. Then again, nice girl but not the brightest tool in the toolbox so the conversation would’ve only been about the latest fashion trend. Glancing around she saw a couple holding hands and being downright mushy, sitting at the table next to hers. They probably weren’t even aware of their surroundings. A fire could’ve started in the small place and they’d still be sitting here, holding hands and looking oh-so in love. Burned as a turkey that spent way too much time in the oven, of course. But still with a blissful look on their face. She didn’t like admitting it but she was jealous. She wanted a life with someone like that. Where you could sit in a caf�, drink a cappuccino and be completely unaware of whatever is happening around and solely focusing on the person in front of you. Isn’t that what we’re all searching for, in the end? Careers are fun and you can work your butt off for them but the moment you turn 60, or even earlier, they’re gone. They also don’t keep you company at the end of the day. They don’t share a bottle of wine with you at dinner. Nor do they walk the dog they desperately wanted and begged you days and days to get it. Sighing again, she got up and threw a few dollar bills on her table. Giving the lovesick couple a last glance – it might have been closer to a glare, she couldn’t help herself – she left the small caf�. Time to go to work. Even though careers weren’t qualified to be someone’s life partner, it was the most important thing in Spencer’s life at the moment. A significant other was such a foreign concept to Spencer, she hoped being in a relationship was like riding a bike: you never forget how to do it. Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar tune of her mobile. She muttered a curse and took the object out of her purse. Momentarily she contemplated throwing the damned piece of technology to the ground for annoying her on her afternoon off but quickly decided against it when she remembered how much it had cost her. She glanced at the caller-id. Beverly. Beverly Michaels had been Spencer’s assistant for roughly six months now. When the young girl came knocking on Spencer’s office door she was fresh out of college and desperately trying to find a job so she could afford a nice apartment in the city. Spencer never would have hired her if it weren’t for the panic attack Beverly went through when Spencer told her she was a bit too young around the edges for her to be a top-lawyer’s assistant. Apparently Spencer was Beverly’s last hope before she had to return home and become a waitress at the local diner. Even though the older woman knew this was a bit too much like the movies for it to be true, she admired Beverly’s persistence and originality. She called the young girl a day later to inform her she had to be at the office at 8. Not a minute later. “Yes Beverly?” “Hello Miss Carlin.” A chipper voice came from the other side. Her little act to get the job withstanding, Beverly was quite a honest young lady and at times even shy. But Spencer didn’t care. She got the job done. More or less. “How many times have I told you to just call me Spencer?” The girl wouldn’t stop calling her Miss Carlin, which reminded Spencer of two things: that she was single and that she wasn’t getting any younger if someone who was but a few years younger called her Miss Carlin. She was only 29 years old for crying out loud! “Yes, right Miss Spencer.” Spencer rolled her eyes but wisely decided to drop the matter. “What do you want Beverly? I’ve got the afternoon off.” No one was supposed to disturb Spencer when she had a moment off. Not having the chance to take an afternoon off in the middle of the week often, she was a little irritated for the interruption. “Well Miss–" “Spencer.” One last try wouldn’t hurt, would it? “Miss Spencer,” Apparently it would. “Ah, you’re three o’clock is waiting in your office. Only glitch is that you’re not here to… uh, do lawyer-y stuff.” So that’s how lawyers were described these days. They did lawyer-y stuff. Where were the good old days when Spencer would’ve been called a bloodsucker? She got back to the current conversation and tried remembering what on earth Beverly meant. “Three o’clock…” She muttered and racked her brain trying to find what appointment Beverly was talking about. “Beverly, I have no appointments this afternoon. I’ve got Jack tomorrow morning at 9 but other than him I’ve nothing.” “Well Miss…” “Wait, don’t tell me you forgot to add this appointment to my schedule.” Spencer sighed and rubbed her temple. She hated standing up clients, whether it was her own fault or her assistant’s misdoings. “Uh, well then I won’t.” “Good answer. But Beverly, I told you I was taking this afternoon off and also told you not to put any appointments on this afternoon.” “I know but this person was quite determinate and when I tried telling them you would be out of the office for the remainder of the day they said to put them up today at 3 o’clock and that they would deal with your wrath of being disturbed on your afternoon off.” Spencer was a little shocked by the fact a client would go so far they’d be willing to take her wrath. Made her feel a bit like a rockstar. “Okay tell the person I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’m not too far from the office.” “Alright Miss Spencer.” “Yes Miss Beverly.” And at that Spencer ended the conversation and stuffed her mobile back into her purse. To the office, Robin.