Mis-Judge By His Secretary

3

Eleanor

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when Judge West… Nathan West said, “You’re hired.” Confetti cannons? A marching band? Maybe just a hint of a smile to soften that glacier he calls a face.

Instead, he had delivered the news like he was sentencing me to community service, his tone all flat and emotionless, like hiring me was just another tedious chore on his to-do list.

Why was he looking at me with that bored expression, anyway?

I sat there for a second too long, blinking at him like a complete i***t. “I… thank you. I won’t let you down,” I finally managed, my voice cracking slightly on the last word. Because, let’s be honest, if there’s one thing Nathan West knows how to do, it’s intimidate the hell out of someone.

He had done it well enough on the court house steps when I ran into him.

His expression didn’t change. He just nodded, like my gratitude was expected but not appreciated, and turned his attention to a stack of files on his desk. “You start Monday. 8 a.m. sharp. Ms. Stokes in HR will handle the onboarding paperwork. That’s all.”

That’s all? Seriously? No “Welcome to the team, Eleanor,” or “Looking forward to working with you”? Nope. Just a dismissal as cold and final as a slammed door.

“He wants you to leave so he can work, Ellie.” I told myself as I sat there, then my brain kicked in, to do what I was supposed to do.

I stood, gripping the strap of my bag like it was the only thing tethering me to reality. “Thank you again, Judge West,” I said, aiming for professional but probably landing somewhere closer to desperate.

He didn’t look up, just muttered a curt “Ms. Rhodes” as a form of acknowledgment.

Well, okay then.

I made my way out of his office, my heels clicking against the polished floors, my heart pounding in my chest. I had done it. I got the job. The job that would pay my rent, feed my brother, and maybe even give me a shot at pulling my life out of the dumpster fire it had been smoldering in for the past year.

So why did I feel like I had just stepped into the lion’s den wearing a meat dress?

The receptionist; some bubbly blonde whose name I didn’t catch, gave me a polite smile as I passed. I returned it, trying not to look as frazzled as I felt.

Once I was safely in the hallway, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding and leaned against the wall. My head tilted back, eyes closing as I processed the whirlwind of the past twenty minutes.

Nathan West. Judge Nathan West. The man who had caught me mid-stumble on the courthouse steps with all the warmth of a particularly grumpy TSA agent.

And now my boss.

This was fine. Totally fine. So what if his chiseled jawline looked like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo himself? Or if his deep, authoritative voice sent an unexpected shiver down my spine every time he spoke? None of that mattered. What mattered was the paycheck. The job.

Besides, men like Nathan West didn’t notice women like me. Not in that way. Not when he could probably have his pick of leggy supermodels who didn’t trip over their own feet or show up to interviews in clearance rack blouses.

I pushed off the wall and headed for the elevator, determined to shake off the weird mixture of nerves and… whatever else I was feeling. Lust? Attraction? Ugh.

No way. That was not allowed. That was not happening.

The elevator arrived with a cheerful ding, its ancient doors creaking open like they were protesting the effort. I stepped inside and hit the button for the lobby, my thoughts still racing.

This was a good thing. A great thing. I had a job now, one with a salary that didn’t involve tips or a boss who thought “dinner” was code for “undress.” Nathan West could be as cold and unapproachable as he wanted; I didn’t need his approval. Just his paycheck.

As the elevator descended, I allowed myself a small, triumphant smile. For the first time in months, I felt like things were maybe going to be okay.

But then, of course, the universe had to remind me who was really in charge.

The elevator shuddered violently, jerking to a stop between floors. My heart leapt into my throat as the lights flickered ominously, and the air was suddenly too thick, too hot.

“No. No, no, no,” I muttered, jabbing at the buttons like a maniac. Nothing.

I stared at the emergency call button, debating whether to press it and risk having to explain to some disinterested building manager that I was stuck in their elevator of doom.

Before I could decide, my phone buzzed in my bag. I fished it out, grateful for the distraction, and saw a text from my brother.

Matt: Hey, can we order pizza tonight? Mom made fish sticks again and I can’t.

I rolled my eyes, my tension easing slightly.

Me: You’re not supposed to complain about free food, brat. But fine. I’ll pay for one pizza. Small. And Mom better tell me you’re doing the dishes after.

His reply came instantly.

Matt: You’re the best sister ever.

I snorted. He was lucky he was cute.

Just as I was about to call the building manager, the elevator jolted back to life, the lights steadying as it resumed its descent. I sagged in relief, clutching my bag like it had just saved my life.

When the doors finally opened onto the lobby, I stepped out, shaking off the lingering adrenaline.

This was just the beginning. A rocky start, sure, but I could handle it. I had to.

Because come Monday, Judge Nathan West and I were going to be spending a lot of time together.

I thought back to what he said, all but five words that was going to change my life, and I was happy. It felt like I could sort everything now, do anything I wanted to do without having to worry about money.

But, I also told myself I might have done nothing special to get the job, but I had to do one to keep it. An exceptional job even, and intended to do that.

Lara had asked me to come to hers later today to celebrate, like she already knew I would get the job. To be honest, she had been the one to tell me about the ad, and I was glad I tried it out.

~

Eleanor

Sunday mornings at Lara’s apartment were sacred. They were for hot coffee in overlarge mugs, croissants from the bakery down her street, and conversations that somehow managed to be both mundane and profound.

But today, my mind was elsewhere, drifting back to the events of the past week.

I curled up on her couch, my hands wrapped around a mug of caramel coffee, as she came out of the kitchen holding a plate of pastries.

“All right, spill it,” Lara said, setting the plate down and giving me her trademark inquisitive stare. “You’ve been making that pensive face for the past ten minutes.”

I hesitated, then took a deep breath. “It’s about my new job.” I said.

“Finally! Details, please. What’s this judge like? Did he give you the scary ‘I own this town’ vibes?” She asked, raising her fingers to do an air quote.

“Not even close,” I said with a groan, leaning back. “He’s... intimidating, sure. But not in the way I expected.”

Lara arched a brow, her curiosity piqued.

“For one, he’s young; like, probably thirty-five, max. And tall. And sharp-jawed. And he has this maddening way of looking at you like he’s five steps ahead. I swear, it’s like he can read your thoughts before you’ve even had them.”

“Oh no,” she gasped, clutching her chest theatrically. “A hot boss with a superiority complex. How will you ever survive?” She said with a mock seriousness.

I shot her a withering look. “It’s not funny. The interview was nerve-wracking enough, but then he grilled me like I was on trial. Honestly, I thought I bombed it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, but it’s like he enjoyed watching me squirm. That smirk…” I shook my head, my face heating at the memory. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure working for him is going to be an exercise in daily humiliation.”

Lara laughed, leaning forward. “That’s what I love about you, El. Always the optimist.” She said again with sarcasm.

“Thanks,” I said dryly. “But the real issue is... I’ve got nothing to wear.”

Lara’s smile widened. “And here it is. The real reason you’re here.”

“I’m serious!” I gestured to my well-worn sweater and jeans. “I can’t exactly walk into a courthouse looking like this, but I can’t afford to go shopping until my first paycheck.” I only had few dresses and then these.

“Which is why you’re raiding my closet.”

“Lara, no. You’ve already done enough…”

“Stop.” She held up a hand. “You’re not going to make it a month without proper work clothes. And don’t even try to guilt me… I love playing stylist.”

I sighed in defeat as she pulled me toward her bedroom. Her closet was a treasure trove of fashion, filled with everything from chic blazers to dresses that probably cost more than my monthly rent.

“This one,” she said, holding up a sleek navy blazer with matching trousers. “It’s looking powerful but approachable. And this blouse will soften it just enough.”

“You still don’t take no well,” I muttered, taking the outfit.

“You’ll thank me later.”

Before I could argue further, my phone buzzed on the nightstand. Lara raised a brow as I reached for it, her curiosity palpable.

The text was from Nathan. He had texted me that day to let me know that was his number.

Judge Douche: I need you to come to my house tomorrow morning before work. Something important. I’ll send the address.

Lara peeked over my shoulder, her eyes widening. “Wait. Is that…” she trailed off, looking at me.

With a nod, I sighed. “Yes,” I said, feeling my stomach twist.

“Why is your boss texting you on a Sunday?” She asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. He wasn’t really specific. Just said to come to his house and that it was important.” I said.

“Do you think he wants you to do something illegal? Like, bury a body?” Lara grinned as she asked that.

“Lara!” I shot her a look, but her mischievous grin was impossible to ignore.

“Well, whatever it is, you’re definitely wearing that outfit tomorrow. First impressions matter, El. And who knows… maybe he’s calling you to his house because he wants to...”

“Don’t even dare finish that sentence.” I said, throwing her a dirty look.

She laughed, tossing a pair of black heels onto the bed. “Relax. You’ll be fine. Just... text me if you need me to bail you out.”

I rolled my eyes, but a nervous knot settled in my chest. Here I was thinking it couldn’t be all that bad, and I just had to stay off the radar and do my job. Tomorrow was shaping up to be anything but ordinary.