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[personal profile] banethebest
There are many things that I love about Darrow. It is a city that I can fully take advantage of. A city where knowing the right people helps you stay on top of the game and out of trouble. A city where the opportunities are great if you play your cards right — and playing my cards right is practically part of my name. The life that I have built for myself is comfortable, but also leaves room for growth. I am one of the most successful lawyers in Darrow.

But the more lawsuits, the more clients, the higher still I can climb.

Of course, being a good lawyer means that you have to know everything that's happening in the city. I have an assistant for this very reason. Every morning, she tells me the biggest news that's taking place around the city, the source that she heard the story from, and how reliable it is. She has helped me avoid many New Year's nightmares; unlike many of my colleagues, I haven't been traumatized by the sight of bees. She has also helped me keep aware of the criminal activities and celebrity scandals that make for the most lucrative jobs. She is the best, I don't know why she doesn't ask me to pay her more.

This morning, she told me an interesting story. One that was enough for me to call the day off work and return right home to my beloved husband. Magnus is not necessarily the best person for me to bounce ideas off of — actually it's very hard to brainstorm with him because he just goes along with everything I want — but he is the person I am most worried about with what my assistant has told me.

"Magnus?" I call out as I step inside our apartment, knocking belatedly on the door. "Are you home?"

(I know that he is. We have our locations constantly shared on our phones. It has come in handy more than once.)

Date: 2016-09-04 07:29 pm (UTC)
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From: [personal profile] mundanebane
Magnus was one of those rare birds that liked being at the office. Surrounded by drab walls and numbers, he felt comfortable and grounded. Accounting made sense, the equations always had a concrete answer, the numbers didn't lie. Sometimes he got to juggle them, balance an account to look better or worse than it was, but that was fun too because the numbers were still consistent. Hiding behind stacks of paper (which he refused to part with even though the rest of the office seemed to be on a paperless kick), he could manage everything.

His real life was entirely different.

He didn't mind giving up most of the control to his wife. Frankly, he had been happy to arrive in the city to find his Jessica there, already tenaciously climbing her way to the top. That, too, was comforting. He helped shoulder the burden of running their own business, but she didn't waste time dithering over decisions.

Still, sometimes he wished it were a little different. He wished, for example, that when he walked out into the living room to answer her call, bare chested with only his suit pants on, hair still damp from his post-gym shower, would elicit more than a blink from her. Or that, if it did, he would have the confidence to make something of that.

Never going to happen.

"Right here," he called back. He combed his fingers through his hair, slicking it back so it wouldn't fall into his eyes. He needed a hair cut. "Is something wrong?"

She knew he would be in the office soon. He kept to his schedule religiously. It had to be something important to get her out of the office.

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Jessica Bane

September 2016

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