Indiscretion

“How much time off will I get?”

“You’ll earn one-and-a-half vacation days each month. It comes out to eighteen days a year.”

“Can I advance them?”

“That’s not currently part of the vacation policy, but I guess I would consider it on a case-by-case basis.”

“Okay, good. Because I might need a week or two this summer if my band gets some gigs.”

“Your…band?”

The guy nodded. “I play in a heavy-metal group. Our gigs are mostly on weekends now, but there might be some Fridays I need to cut out early to make it to a show.”

“Uh-huh.”

“If I could work remotely on Mondays, too, that would be great. Sometimes the weekends are rough, and I need the extra day to recover.” He held up a hand. “But don’t worry. I work hard when my head is in the game.”

“And how often is that?”

“I try my hardest.”

“Great.” I sighed.

This was my tenth interview this week. Sadly, it wasn’t even my worst one. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought someone was punking me. The guy yesterday showed up with his mother. Then proceeded to ask if I had anything for her to nibble on while we did our interview. The dude was dead serious.

I went through the motions with this guy who wanted a part-time job with full-time pay until he could score a record deal, but I zoned out during most of his responses. By the time he left, I was ready to call it a day. Unfortunately, I had one more interview left at five o’clock—a guy Lily used to work with.

At four forty-five, the office door creaked open, but I was on the phone with a client, so I pressed mute and yelled that I’d be out in a few minutes. Two more calls came in while I was finishing up, and I had to let them go to voicemail. Meanwhile another client was ringing my cell nonstop. If this last person was halfway decent, which I was banking he would be since he came on referral from Lily, I was going to hire him—at least on a trial basis, just to have some help with the damn phones. At a minimum, I needed a receptionist.

I sprayed some hand sanitizer on my hands and walked into the lobby with my head down, texting the client that I’d get back to him in a little while. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

But I stopped short when a woman’s voice answered. And it was not just any woman’s voice… “Naomi?”

She smiled and stood from the couch that had been delivered only yesterday. “Hi, Dawson. How are you?”

“Umm…confused. What are you doing here?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “I’m here for the interview.”

“For the interview? Ben said Lily had someone she thought would be a good fit, a guy she used to work with.”

“Oh.” Her smile wilted. “I’m not sure what happened. Lily told me to come at five. I thought you knew I was coming.”

Could I have gotten that wrong? I didn’t think so. Ben had been in court all day yesterday and today, but he’d texted last night and asked if I’d hired any of the people who came in to interview for the paralegal job. When I said no, he wrote back that he had the perfect guy for me. I didn’t ask any questions other than how soon can he come in? At least I thought he’d said perfect guy. I dug my phone out of my pocket and scrolled back. Sure enough, that’s what he’d written.

I turned my phone to show Naomi. “He said guy.”

“Do you…” She thumbed over her shoulder. “Want me to leave?”

“No, but…”

She straightened her spine. “Good. Because as far as I know, Title Seven still prohibits discrimination in hiring based on gender.”

She got the section of the law right, which already made her a better candidate than anyone else I’d interviewed. But…

“You should see your face right now.” Naomi laughed. “I’m joking. But I did think you knew it was me who was coming.”

Her smile made me feel better than I had in days. That alone should’ve been a red flag. Yet I couldn’t very well not do the interview now—not with the federal and state laws involved. At least that’s what I told myself as I waved for her to follow me into my office.

Naomi took a seat across from me. “Your eye is all healed.”

“It’s still painful though.”

“Oh, no.” She lifted her hand to her chest, covering her heart. “I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t hide my grin. “I’m teasing.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That was mean.”

I chuckled and sat down. “How’s your hand?”

“Turns out I need surgery. The bones set wrong, so they need to put in pins and stuff.” Naomi lifted her pink cast. “I’m going to be wearing this thing for a few more months. That’s why I haven’t been able to find a job.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes sparkled. “I’m kidding. Gotcha.”

I shook my head. “Guess I deserved that.”

“You did indeed.”

I sat back in my chair and steepled my fingers. “So…do you have a resume?”

“I do.” She opened a leather satchel and retrieved a padfolio. Slipping a sheet of paper out, she set it on the desk and started to slide it over, then stopped. “Actually, would it be okay if we talk about my qualifications first, rather than going over this?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” She let out a big breath. For the next fifteen minutes, Naomi rattled on about her experience. She’d spent a few months working as a paralegal at Watson & Portnoy, a small, general-practice firm in Virginia, but it sounded like she knew her shit. She’d done everything from client intake to drafting complaints.

“It sounds like you’re more than qualified. But I have to ask… Why don’t you want to practice law anymore?”

She looked away. “Being a paralegal is a lot less stressful.”

I was certain that was true, but still seemed like there was more to the story. She didn’t offer it, though, even after I waited and gave her time to elaborate.

“Okay. Well, Ben said you worked at the DA’s office in Virginia.”

She nodded. “I worked at the Richmond County Prosecutors office.”

“You were a trial attorney?”

“Yes.”

“How long were you there?”

“Four years.”

“Tell me more about that. What kind of cases did you work on?”

“I started out doing class five and six felonies—animal cruelty, child neglect, forgery. After a year I was promoted to major cases. I worked on everything from capital murder to racketeering.”

“So you’re familiar with drafting discovery requests, opposition motions, and prepping witness and exhibit lists?”

“Very.”

“And you’re good with doing client intake and answering calls?”

“I’m good with whatever it takes for a job. I’m a hard worker.”

It almost seemed too good to be true. So I dug deeper. “Can you tell me about a difficult case you worked on?”

Naomi nodded and told me about a capital murder case she was part of at the DA’s office. A guy had been indicted for killing his boss, whom his wife had been having an affair with. Midway through the trial, new information came to light that pointed to the wife as the murderer and not the husband who was currently mid-trial. The state subsequently dropped the charges against the husband and indicted the wife, only to have the husband take the stand and confess to the murder. Naomi explained all the complications of the case, including double jeopardy, spousal privilege, and tainted evidence. She even cited civil-procedure rule numbers that she clearly had memorized.

The more she talked, the harder it was to remember it was a bad idea to hire a woman I was attracted to. “What kind of salary are you looking for?”

She frowned. “I made fifty-five thousand at my last job. But I’m hoping for more here because the cost of living is higher than in Virginia.”

Fifty-five thousand with all that experience? Margaret had a lot less, and I’d paid her more than eighty grand. I knew attorneys who paid good paralegals well into six figures. The cost of living was more in New York, but it wasn’t that much more than living outside of Washington, DC. Why did everything about this interview seem too good to be true?

“When would you be able to start?”

“Immediately. I’ve been doing some temp work through an agency, but it’s a day-to-day-type deal.”

Someone was going to snap this woman up with all her experience. I was tempted to hire her on the spot, yet something held me back. “It sounds like you’re more than qualified, but I have a few more people to interview. Can I let you know in a day or two?”

She smiled. “Sure. That sounds great.”

I stood and walked Naomi to the door. “Thanks for coming in so late in the day.”

“No problem. Thanks for taking the time after you were apparently bamboozled into interviewing me.”

Awkwardness set in as we stood in the lobby, or at least I felt it. I wasn’t sure how to say goodbye. I suppose it might’ve been because I didn’t really want to say goodbye. While I was busy mulling over stupid shit in my head, Naomi stuck her hand out.

“Thank you for considering me.”

I clasped. “I’m assuming your number hasn’t changed from when you gave it to me at the wedding?”

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Great. I’ll be in touch soon.”

Naomi opened her mouth like she was going to say something more, but then pressed her lips together. Eventually, I opened the glass door that led from the lobby to the hallway. “Thanks again for coming.”

She took two steps out, but stopped abruptly and grabbed the door handle. “Wait! There’s something I need to tell you.”

This can’t be good. “What’s up?”

“I wasn’t fully honest about why I’m looking for a paralegal job.”

“Okay…”

“It’s not that a paralegal job is less stressful. Well, it is, but that’s not why I’m no longer practicing law. I actually loved my job at the DA’s office.”

“Okay…”

She took a deep breath and looked into my eyes. “I’m working as a paralegal now because it’s the only job I’m allowed to do. I was disbarred.”

***

“What the fuck, man?”

After a half hour of sitting at my desk and staring at the wall, I’d finally picked up the phone and dialed Ben’s cell.

He sighed. “You need someone, and Naomi is great at her job.”

“Which job would that be? A paralegal or an attorney? Oh wait, she can’t practice anymore because she’s been disbarred?”

“She told you, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure she almost didn’t. And I was this close to hiring her on the spot during the interview, too. Luckily, something held me back.”

“Did she tell you why she lost her license?”

“Felony assault.”

“She tell you the details?”

“No. And I didn’t ask for them. I can’t hire a damn disbarred attorney.”

“I get that you feel that way. If I didn’t know Naomi as well as I do, I would probably feel the same. But Naomi is a good person.”

“Who…assaults people.”

“It was one person.”

“Who the hell did she assault?” I shook my head. “You know what? I don’t even want to know. It doesn’t matter. My gut told me not to even interview her, and I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t played games.”

“Sorry, man. I was only trying to help. Naomi is really smart. Lily really wanted to hire her to work for the City, but the DA couldn’t get past the felony.”

“Because the DA is smart.” I shook my head again. “I gotta go. Thanks for wasting my time.” I hung up without waiting for a response and tossed my cell on my desk.

Hours later, back at home, I still couldn’t shake my angry feelings. I kept replaying all my interactions with Naomi, over and over in my head. What was I looking for? I wasn’t sure. But a forty-five-minute run, followed by a half hour of weightlifting, didn’t do shit to help me relax. I felt…restless, the same way I felt during a trial when things weren’t going my way and the case was soon going to the jury.

After a hot shower, I attempted to do some work. Lord knows I had enough to keep me busy for a solid three months now that I had no staff and no partner. But I couldn’t focus. My eyes kept moving from the motion I should be drafting in Word to the Google icon at the bottom of the laptop screen.

I’d told Ben I didn’t want to know Naomi’s story, but that was the anger talking. And maybe even a bit of disappointment. I was way too curious of a person to put this shit to rest without knowing more. Though I reread the first paragraph of the motion on my screen three more times, giving it the good ol’ college try for another ten minutes. But eventually I gave in. Toggling the mouse down to the bottom of the screen, I double clicked the Google icon.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I grumbled as I typed into the search bar. N-A-O-M-I H-E-A-R-T

A shit ton of results came back. The very first headline gave me what I was looking for, and I stared at it a long time. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t:

Richmond County Assistant District Attorney Naomi Heart arrested for assaulting an innocent man.

What the fuck?

I needed to know who the hell she’d assaulted.

I clicked into the article, dated a year ago, November 3rd, and started scanning.

Naomi Heart, 28, an assistant district attorney at the Richmond County DA’s office, was charged last night with one count of assault. At 5:05 PM on November 3rd, officers responded to a 9-1-1 call at the Richmond County Family Court. According to court records, Ms. Heart was previously the lead prosecutor on a criminal case involving the victim. The victim was transported to Our Lady of Lords Hospital in Richmond.

I clicked into the next link, and it opened to a picture of a man in a wheelchair. His face had been blurred out to protect his privacy. The caption read: Victim of ADA’s violent assault leaves MKC Rehabilitation Center.

Jesus Christ. Violent assault? Is the guy paralyzed?

I scrolled through a half-dozen articles. All of them gave the same type of information—previously the lead prosecutor, assault, arrest. But I didn’t find anything that explained what had happened, or said anything about the trial since the media won’t release the victim’s name without permission. Eventually, I went to the Virginia State Bar website and found the disciplinary section. Typing Naomi’s name into the search bar, I came up with a hit.

By Order entered February 1st, the Virginia State Bar Disciplinary Board revoked Naomi Heart’s license to practice in the Commonwealth of Virginia. So ordered based upon her affidavit that consented to revocation. By tendering her consent at a time when a disciplinary complaint, investigation, and proceeding was pending, Heart unequivocally acknowledged the material facts of the complaint to be true and acknowledged that she had no successful defense for her actions.

So she didn’t even fight being disbarred?

More searching revealed that she’d also plead no contest to felony assault in exchange for a reduced sentence of probation and community service. The last article I read had a picture of her coming out of the courthouse. Her face was partially shielded by a jacket she held up, but there was no doubt it was her.

Damn. Not only had I been close to hiring her, but I’d also really liked her, after our initial altercation. She was funny, sort of quirky, and didn’t put up with my shit. Not to mention, she was drop-dead gorgeous.

I stared at her photo a few minutes longer.

What the hell is your story, Naomi Heart? I’d spent the last ten years of my life reading people, mostly criminals, and I was damn good at knowing when I was only getting half the information. Something told me there was a lot more to Naomi Heart than met the eye.