Fix You

November 2013

“Alright, so these are our numbers from last quarter. They’re a bit lower than what was originally projected, but we can still work with them. I want you guys all to try and pick up as many potential clients as we can! Winter’s coming up and we’re in Chicago, for Christ sake! There are going to be car accidents and court battles everywhere in a matter of weeks! Let’s try and double our numbers…”

I yawned. The sound of my boss talking about numbers and quarters and other lawyer stuff was really getting to me. I was sitting in the conference room, along with the rest of the employees at my firm, listening to Jackson (“Jackson Marks - Marks as in Marks-Gables Law,” as he would introduce himself) as he was clicking away through a PowerPoint featuring all sorts of tables and graphs. I would sit there through meetings like this, trying to stay awake while finding myself wondering why these were mandatory for all employees, even though all I did was answer the phones.

That’s right. The great Ella Rose Michaels, once a projected future hockey star with rich parents and at one point a professional hockey-playing boyfriend, was now a secretary at one of the bazillions of law firms in downtown Chicago. I wasn’t proud of my midlife crisis, as I called it – “midlife” a term you could throw up in the air, though, because I was only twenty-four. I had had it all going for me before that aforementioned hockey player boyfriend fucked my life up a bit. I was still living in a tiny apartment in Addison, but now I was barely scraping by with the rent plus groceries plus electricity. It wasn’t a pretty picture. Hell, the only reason I was really still happy was because I had my friends on the Blackhawks to fall back on, even though the breakup had been a bit hard on the boys.

After a while of my mind running away with these thoughts, I was suddenly brought back to the here and now when the phone outside the conference room from my desk started ringing. I jumped awake before glancing over at Jackson, silently asking permission to be temporarily excused from the meeting so I could go answer the phone. Jackson nodded his approval, so I quickly slipped out of the conference room before jogging over to my desk up front so I could answer the call before it went dead.

“Marks-Gables Law Firm, this is Ella,” I said in my monotone voice.

“ELLA! I got your line! About damn time.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Patrick, this is a really bad time, I’m in a meeting,” I hissed, making sure nobody was paying attention to me in the conference room.

“It’s always a bad time with you,” Patrick huffed on the other end.

“Do not call here again,” I told him sternly before simply hanging up the phone. I sighed, then, shaking my head before heading back into the conference room.

“Ah, she’s back!” Jackson clapped his hands together enthusiastically, this gigantic grin on his face. My stomach dropped. Oh, no. I was not up for causing a huge spectacle of myself again. Not today, at least.

I waved awkwardly before sitting down in my seat. Unfortunately, that did not keep Jackson from addressing me. “So, Ella, who was that on our phones? Another potential customer? You sure didn’t spend much time talking to them if it was…”

“Uh… it was a wrong number,” I mumbled, looking down at the ground. An obvious lie. Shit.

Jackson sighed. He saw right through it, of course, so he continued on with his speech for a few more minutes, droning on and on and on before finally dismissing everyone. Well, everyone except me. “Back to work, everyone!” he grinned. “Ella, stay here, I want a word with you.”

I sighed. A word. Another word. Jackson had a thing with words that made me want to fall asleep. Could I survive another one-sided conversation with him again?

Once all of the higher-paid lawyer people filed out of the room, Jackson came over to me and pulled up a chair. “Who was really on the line, Ella?” he asked me calmly.

I rolled my eyes. “My friend,” I told him. “I don’t know how he got the number. I told him not to call here again.”

“Doesn’t your friend know that he is blocking up lines for potential customers to call in? We need better numbers this quarter, Ella.”

I bit back a laugh at the fact that Jackson over-exaggerated the "he" in his sentence, as if it was "someone special" to me. I shivered at the thought of dating Patrick Kane. Gross. “I know, I know,” I finally replied to Jackson. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“You’ve been having some trouble the past month or so, Ella,” Jackson told me, in a soft voice that nearly convinced me that he actually cared. “Are you sure you’re up for this job?”

“This is my only means of employment,” I told him seriously. “If I lose this job, I lose my apartment. I become a homeless woman on the streets, and nobody will give me money because they’ll automatically assume I’m just gonna use it to buy drugs.”

Jackson chuckled. “You’re quite charming, Ella,” he told me. “And you’re such a wonderful addition to our team. But I’m afraid if we have any more slip-ups from you, you will end up costing us potential customers.”

“It won’t happen again, sir,” I pleaded with him. “I promise you.”

Jackson stood up, holding out a hand to pull me up, as well. “This is your last chance, Ella,” he told me sincerely.

“I’ll make sure to prove your doubts about me wrong, sir,” I muttered, not able to meet his eyes as I scurried out of the room.

Jackson followed me out, and, as I expected, absolutely nobody in the firm gave a shit about what had been happening between Jackson and I seconds before. Jackson walked back to the back of the large room into his own little office while I went back to sit down at my secretaries’ desk.

The next three hours were full of nearly constant phone calls, messages and appointments. I survived by looking at the clock. Eventually I made it to three o’clock, which meant just one more hour until I could finally go home.

“Marks-Gables Law Firm, this is Ella,” I said absentmindedly into the phone, which had started ringing again.

“Ella, thank God! I called like twelve times and people who weren’t you kept fucking answering.”

I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. It was another Patrick… a dark-haired one this time.

“Patrick, I told you not to call me while I’m at work,” I hissed through gritted teeth, glancing up to make sure nobody was watching me.

“Ah, I know you said that, like, a few weeks ago or whatever, but you weren’t answering your cell.”

“I’m not answering my cell because it’s not with me because I’m at work,” I slowly repeated, rubbing my temples, leaning my elbows on the table. I was trying really hard not to make a scene, but now the people who were sitting nearest to me were looking over at me curiously.

Sometimes it sucked being a secretary. It was much too formal of a place of work for somebody like me to be in. I was also by far the youngest person working at the firm, which meant that absolutely nobody wanted anything to do with me. But the hours were good and the pay was good enough. I hated it, but I had to do what I had to do in order to have income flowing in.

“Well, that’s just ridiculous, you should have your phone on at all times.” Sharp pulled me out of my thoughts immediately with his loud voice.

“Patrick Sharp, you and the boys are going to be the death of me. Kaner just called me in the middle of a meeting and Jackson chewed me out because of it. If he catches me talking to you, I’m most definitely going to lose my job.”

“Then don’t get caught. Look, we have a super special surprise for you over at the rink. You gotta come over. Like, now.” I could just hear the smile tinting Pat’s voice, which, even though the circumstances were bad, made me smile a little bit too.

“I can’t. You really wouldn’t be fit for an office job, you seem to have no idea what nine-to-five hours are.”

“Well, then when the hell do you get off?”

“In like an hour.”

“Alright, kiddo. Meet us at the UC. And don’t be fuckin’ late!”

“I won’t, Patrick. And for God’s sake, do not. Call here. Again.” And with that, I hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair.

I never should’ve befriended hockey players, I thought to myself as I waited for the next call to come in.