Kate pressed the "P3" button and exhaled deeply as the elevator doors closed in front of her. She leaned against the back of the elevator, her feet in front of her and her head tilted upward as she stared vacantly at the ceiling. How could I be so stupid, she thought as she descended the 17 floors to the lowest level of the parking garage. All that time preparing for the hearing and I screw up the first question from the judge. And in front of one of the senior partners, no less, who'd had to step in and clean up her mess. It was all so embarrassing.
She felt the elevator slow to a stop, bouncing a little disconcertingly as the automated voice announced "P3" and the doors slid open. Kate picked up her bag and grabbed the small rolling suitcase she used to bring her case files each weekend. It probably looks like I'm headed on a jaunt to the Caribbean, Kate thought as she left the elevator, actually laughing out loud at the thought of having time for a trip. The sound of her heels on the concrete floor echoed loudly off the walls of the nearly deserted underground garage. Looking around, she saw only six cars in the lot. It was just after seven o'clock on a Friday evening and everyone else had already left. Probably to spend time with their husbands, boyfriends, kids, friends--whatever people with lives do these days, Kate thought forlornly as she walked briskly to her car.
Kate was a senior associate at Yule, Cheatham, and Howe, the city's most prestigious law firm. She'd always wanted to be an attorney and loved the idea of being in court, arguing passionately to judges and juries in big, important cases. After graduating near the top of her law school class, she'd joined the firm at 25 and worked her way up through the ranks. Now, in February 2001, she was on track to make partner and earning more money than she had ever dreamed was possible. She had an adorable house about 20 minutes from downtown, designer clothes, and a brand-new BMW she'd just bought last week.
A lot of good that does when you live at work, she thought as she opened the trunk and put her suitcase inside. She'd started at the firm as a summer intern after her first year of law school and loved every minute of it. Outings to baseball games, great restaurants, happy hours--they'd really wined and dined her, she recalled fondly. But when she took the job after graduation, no one had prepared her for just how much she would be required to work. Kate spent at least 70 hours each week in the office, regularly getting home late in the evening and spending Saturdays or Sundays (or both) downtown or working at home. It left little time for a social life. She'd gradually drifted apart from her high school and college friends as they got married and had kids, finding she had little in common with women who talked mostly about planning weddings, getting pregnant, and raising toddlers. Her days were instead filled with legal research, drafting documents, and endless meetings with the partners.
Well, at least I have this, she thought as she opened the passenger door and set her designer bag on the front seat. How many people your age get to drive one of these every day? Kate removed her navy-blue suit jacket and laid it on the seat, her white sleeveless top leaving her arms exposed to the cool February air. She felt a slight chill as she looked around to make sure no one else was in the garage before stepping out of her heels. The concrete felt rough on her bare feet as she reached up her skirt to remove her pantyhose. She'd worn them for court, bare legs still not being considered appropriate for women in the stodgy legal profession, especially by Judge Grady. As she stepped back into her heels, the memories of the morning flooded back, making her want to drive away and never come back.
It had been her first real chance to argue a motion in court. Civil lawyers didn't get to court very often and when they did, high-paying clients only wanted the firm's top attorneys handling their cases. But Kate had worked hard and convinced the senior partners to let her handle the motion. However, when the judge asked her about one of the weakest points in her argument, she flubbed the answer. Badly, she admitted to herself as she opened the driver's door. Kate Harris simply didn't make mistakes--not in college, not in law school, and certainly not in federal court. Her motion was perfect, her preparation was exemplary, and she'd been confident she was going to win.
But then you screwed it all up, Kate thought as she sat down in the driver's seat. She'd compounded her error by arguing with the judge, trying to prove she was right rather than just admitting her mistake. And of course, the senior partner on the case with her had to step in and try to fix everything, embarrassing her even further. She knew she was going to hear about it on Monday. It was probably the talk of the firm, even the courthouse. The great Kate Harris finally gets to the big leagues and goes down in flames. If they ended up losing the motion because of her, the case would be significantly weakened and they'd have less of a chance of winning the trial coming up in only a month. Well, counselor, you just need to put it out of your head, get on the highway and see what this baby can do, she thought as she settled into the soft leather seat, smoothing her skirt underneath her and starting the powerful engine.
She took a right onto Market Street and headed for the highway. Traffic was light as she accelerated up the on-ramp, moved to the second lane, and hit the gas. Just then, a light rain began to fall. Damn, Kate thought, I hope this doesn't back traffic up. "Not that you have anything to do tonight," she said out loud as she hit 70 mph. About ten minutes later, the rain picked up and Kate saw a wall of red lights ahead. Must be an accident, she thought as she braked and moved to the right lane in case she had to exit earlier than planned. Traffic was completely stalled and she came to a dead stop. Just then, she heard a loud bang and felt herself thrown forward, her chest pressing against her seat belt and her arms bending as her hands pressed against the steering wheel. As she straightened in her seat, she looked in the rearview mirror and knew she'd been rear ended.
"Fucking unbelievable!" Kate yelled into her empty car. She pulled onto the shoulder and fumbled for the emergency flasher button for what seemed like an eternity, finally finding it and putting the car in park. As she opened the door and put her foot onto the pavement, she felt the cold rain on her bare leg. She grabbed a ponytail holder from her bag and put her long black hair up as she climbed out and walked to the back of her car. Kate looked at her new car in dismay. The fender was crumpled and the trunk lid appeared to be dented. "You've got to be kidding me!" she screamed into the cold February air, her hair and clothes dampening in the rain.
"It doesn't look too bad," a male voice from behind her said. "I'm sure they can fix it." Kate turned on her heel to see what looked like a high schooler in khakis and an untucked, faded red polo shirt looking at her car.
"It doesn't look too bad?" Kate said incredulously. "Are you kidding me?"
"I don't know, I'm sure it'll be fine. I mean, you can still drive it, right?" the kid said.
"I don't know," Kate said, flustered and starting to get wet in the cold February rain. "Get your information and get in the back of my car." The kid went back to his car as Kate climbed in the backseat of her car and sat behind the driver's seat. The engine was still running and the dome light illuminated the interior as he climbed in and sat beside her. Kate retrieved a pen and paper from her bag and said, "I need your license and insurance card."
"I really don't think it's that bad," he replied. "Do you really need my insurance card? I'm sure my dad can just pay for the repairs. I'd rather not report it."
"You can't hit someone and just leave without giving your insurance information," Kate said. "I don't care how much money mommy and daddy have."
"I'd rather not report it," he said again. "It's just that a few months ago I..."
Kate lost it, her day at work and the damage to her car combining to send her over the edge. "Give me your fucking insurance card right now!" she screamed, interrupting him as she leaned forward and angrily pounded her fists on knees. "You know what, fuck this. I'm calling the police."
