Who: Kayla, NPC Reporters, and a dumbstruck Rowan What: Kayla goes mama bear on some reporters looking for a scoop Where: US Attorney's Office When: Not long after Job's article is printed Warnings: Absolutely none. That's what makes this so horrifying.
Listening to ringing phones had always annoyed Kayla. Secretaries were supposed to pick them up. That was their job. When phones rang repeatedly, either their secretary was slacking off or someone had stepped in it big time. Rowan didn't have a secretary in her office, and Kayla would have known if she'd stepped in it recently. So this had to be Option C, something off the grid. It didn't take her long to suspect that the obnoxious ringing and exasperated protests from the younger lawyer's office had something to do with some shenanigans one of her relatives had found himself in. A quick skim of the internet confirmed her suspicions. This was not okay.
When she stepped out of her office, an intern spilled his coffee down his front; it did well to hide the suspect stain bleeding through his khakis. A paralegal ducked behind a cabinet, hitting her head in her zeal to stay hidden from the woman that stalked the short distance down the hall between her office and Rowan's. Though Kayla was dressed in a smart business suit, she radiated the rage and concentrated power of a Roman Gladiator stepping into the coliseum.
She didn't bother knocking on Rowan's door - she threw it open, taking up the entire doorframe with ease. The look Rowan gave her was apologetic, though she didn't return any expression of sympathy. Her face was carved out of granite, fury and loathing chiseled into her cheekbones. The younger woman stared at her as she strode up to her desk, staring at the phone in her hands. She could hear a voice on the other end, asking on repeat "are you there?" Kayla didn't ask. She didn't request. She grabbed the phone out of Rowan's hand, leaning over the desk with one hand planted on a pile of papers as she brought the receiver to her ear.
"Yes, she is here." Her voice was smooth as silk, though it thinly veiled the chilly whisper of her words. "But I'm afraid she can't speak with you right now. You see, Rowan Morgenstern is at work. This is a US Attorney's Office, not a high school girls' bathroom. Gossip games can wait until after Rowan has done her job. Until then, if you're really itching for a soundbyte, I suggest you find something on 4Chan to tide yourself over. It'd be just as irrelevant to your story as anything Rowan can tell you, and it would have the added benefit of coming with a picture. I'll leave you to it."
She slammed the phone into the cradle, gaze falling from the ceiling to Rowan's face. "You can finish the day in my office. I'll clear a space on my desk for you." As she started to straighten up, the phone rang again. Without giving Rowan the chance to pick up, she plucked the receiver from the cradle, holding it to her ear. "Kayla Michaels speaking."
"Hi Ms. Michaels, my name is Tiffany Miller, I'm with the Daily Scoop. Can I speak with Rowan Morgenstern, please?"
A thin smirk twinged her lips. "Ms. Miller, it's a pleasure to speak with you. I thank you in advance for giving me your name, this makes things a lot easier for me. When you are eventually sued for libel, I'll ensure that every defense attorney in the state of Seattle is too petrified of the consequences to take your case. In the meantime, I suggest that you find better things to do with your time than harass my associates here at the US Attorney's Office. Have a nice day." She set the phone down harshly, straightening up. Almost immediately, it rang again.
She ripped the cord out, throwing it across the room with disdain. Phone calls could wait. She gave Rowan one last look, expectant. They could share Kayla's office today. No one would dare to enter it for the rest of the day.