By 2:03 a.m., the twenty-seventh floor of the downtown Los Angeles skyscraper looked abandoned—every office dark except for one lonely cubicle leaking fluorescent light like a confession.

Jennifer Park sat in that cube, shoulders hunched, eyes burning. The city glowed below—red taillights on the 110, the hazy halo over downtown—but all she could see was the mountain of paper in front of her.

The Watson file looked less like a case and more like a small, angry forest.

Exhibits to prep. Depositions to summarize. Trial briefs to draft. Color-coded tabs to match. She’d gone through so much highlighter she half expected the ink company to send her a thank-you letter.

Her laptop chimed with a calendar notification.

TRIAL – WATSON V. EASTWAY
THURSDAY – 8:30 AM – COURTROOM 7B

Jennifer checked the time on her phone again, as if it might have changed its mind out of pity.

2:03 a.m. Thursday.

“Technically,” she muttered, “still Wednesday night. Barely.”

Her blazer was slung over the back of her chair. The once-crisp white blouse was wrinkled, a coffee stain blooming faintly near the collar where she’d missed with a lid hours earlier. Her hair, which had started the day in a neat bun, now hung in a messy ponytail that could reasonably be charged with loitering.

She rubbed her eyes and reached for yet another sticky note. The Watson case wasn’t even her matter. It was Tammy Klein’s—star trial attorney, partner-track legend, and Jennifer’s boss.

Tammy, who had dropped the entire file on Jennifer’s desk with the same casual cruelty someone might use to drop off dry cleaning.

The memory was still fresh enough to sting.

That morning—well, technically yesterday morning now—Tammy had glided into the office at 9:01 a.m. sharp, heels clicking down the hallway, latte in hand. Her suits always looked like they’d stepped straight out of a high-end legal drama. Her hair never frizzed, even in the worst Los Angeles humidity.

“Good morning, Mrs. Klein,” Jennifer had said, standing up a little straighter as Tammy stopped beside her desk.

“Hi, Jennifer,” Tammy had replied, all breezy charm.

Then she’d dropped a massive accordion folder and two redwelds onto Jennifer’s keyboard, blocking the screen.

“What’s this?” Jennifer had asked, even though she already knew the answer. It always came with that look—a shark smelling blood.

“This,” Tammy said, tapping the stack, “is the Watson file. All the research, reports, and discovery. I need you to go over everything and make sure I’m ready for trial Thursday morning.”

Jennifer had frozen. “I’m sorry,” she’d said. “Thursday? As in… this Thursday? That’s tomorrow.”

“Really?” Tammy had said, squinting at the ceiling with exaggerated surprise. “I thought today was Tuesday. Well, either way, it doesn’t change anything. We have court at eight-thirty. I need you to prepare any exhibits we may need, draft all the trial briefs, and summarize the depositions for me. Something clean and neat I can flip through.”

Jennifer had looked at the stack again. Thousands of pages. Dozens of witness statements. Expert reports. Photos. Contracts. Enough paper to choke a shredder.

“You know that’s going to take me all night,” she’d said before she could stop herself.

Tammy had smiled, a little edge in it. “Well then,” she’d said, “you’d better get started. Good luck.”

Jennifer had swallowed. “Um… if I go through it and I have questions, should I—”

“I’m sure you can figure it out,” Tammy had cut in. “You’re smart. I’m going out to dinner with my husband tonight, so please don’t call me. Just take care of it, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

She’d walked away without waiting for an answer.

Jennifer had stared after her, a dozen replies rising and dying on her tongue. Unbelievable, she’d thought. Then she’d taken a breath, rolled up her sleeves, and started working.

Now, sixteen hours later, she was still at it.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a text.

BOYFRIEND ❤️:
You still at the office?

Jennifer stared at the screen for a moment and typed back, fingers clumsy.

Yeah. Trial prep. I’ll be home after court.
Love you.

She hit send and went back to her notes.

By the time she finally staggered out of the building, the harsh morning light made her blink. She ran on adrenaline and cheap coffee all the way to the courthouse, files hugged to her chest like a life raft.

From the gallery bench, she watched Tammy in action.

It was like watching a master class.

Tammy stood at counsel table in her flawless navy suit, voice smooth, posture perfect. She sliced through the opposing counsel’s arguments like they were butter knives. Every time she flipped a page, it was a page Jennifer had highlighted, tabbed, cross-referenced. Every exhibit Tammy pulled up on the screen, Jennifer had pulled, labeled, and checked at three in the morning.

When the judge finally said, “…and on that basis, the motion is granted. Case dismissed,” Tammy’s lips curved in a satisfied little smile.

Court adjourned. People shuffled out, murmuring.

Tammy grabbed her stack of color-coded binders and walked straight past Jennifer without so much as a glance.

By noon, Jennifer was back at her desk, trying to keep her eyes open. The office hummed with mid-day energy—phones ringing, printers whining, the smell of reheated lunches drifting out of the break room.

“Good afternoon, Jennifer,” Tammy’s voice said behind her.

Jennifer jerked upright. “Good morning—good afternoon, Mrs. Klein,” she corrected quickly.

Tammy frowned. “It’s two o’clock,” she said. “You’re late on time and on greetings, it seems. Why do you look like you just rolled out of bed?”

“I was up all night, ma’am,” Jennifer said. “Working on the Watson materials.”

Tammy waved a hand. “Yes, yes. Court was great. Case dismissed. Good job on the prep work.”

Jennifer blinked. “Thank you,” she said softly. The tiny sliver of recognition felt like water in a desert.

“I’m glad it went well,” she added.

Tammy’s phone buzzed. She checked it, smiled, tucked it away.

“Right,” she said. “So. The firm’s newest partner, Mr. Evans, is coming in today. I was going to introduce you. But looking at you now…” Her eyes flicked over Jennifer’s wrinkled blouse, smudged eyeliner, and the limp ponytail.

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea.”

Jennifer’s cheeks burned. “Why not?” she asked, even though she knew.

“Because you look exhausted,” Tammy said. “Like you’ve been hit by a truck. That’s why. Go home and get some rest.”

A rush of relief flooded Jennifer. Sleep. A shower. Maybe actual food.

“Thank you, Mrs. Klein,” she said, sagging a little. “I could definitely—”

“It’s going to be a very long weekend,” Tammy added smoothly.

Jennifer froze. “…I’m sorry?”

“I sent you an email this morning,” Tammy said. “We have another case up on Monday. I need you prepared. So I need you to come in all weekend. Saturday and Sunday. We’re going to hit this one out of the park.”

Jennifer stared at her. “Mrs. Klein, I already told you I can’t work this weekend. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday. I requested this weekend off weeks ago and—”

“Oh,” Tammy said lightly. “I guess you’ll have to cancel your plans. You know the rule—work comes first.”

Her voice softened into something that sounded almost like concern.

“Besides, you’ve been with this guy for what, two weeks?” she said. “And you’re already going away together? Seems like a bit much, doesn’t it?”

“Six months,” Jennifer said quietly. “We’ve been together six months.”

“Oh,” Tammy said. “Whatever. The point is, this job is your future. He might not be.”

Jennifer swallowed. “Please, Mrs. Klein,” she said. “I really need this time off. I’m… I’m burnt out. I haven’t had a proper day off in weeks. I’m doing my best, but—”

“You want to be an attorney one day, correct?” Tammy asked. Her voice sharpened.

“Yes,” Jennifer said. “Of course. My dream is to be a trial attorney.”

“Then you need to understand something,” Tammy said. “Do you have any idea how many paralegals would kill for your position? To work under someone like me? For a firm like this, in Los Angeles? You don’t get to say no to me. Are you saying no?”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Jennifer said. Her chest felt tight. “I just… it’s my boyfriend’s birthday. We’ve had this trip planned for months. We’re—”

“Not this weekend,” Tammy said flatly. “I need you here.”

The fight drained out of Jennifer. She thought about the rent due next month. Her student loan statements. The faded sticky note on her monitor that said: Keep going. Future Attorney.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll cancel my reservations.”

Tammy cupped a hand around her ear. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t quite hear that. What did you say?”

Jennifer swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I said I’ll be more than happy to work this weekend,” she forced out.

Tammy smiled, satisfied. “That’s better,” she said. “Now go home, shower, sleep. And I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

She was still smiling when she walked away. Jennifer watched her disappear into her glass-walled corner office, the door closing softly behind her.

In the reflection on her dark computer screen, Jennifer barely recognized herself.

Tired. Small. Replaceable.

She blinked hard and started packing her bag.

On the other side of town, in a polished restaurant near Century City, Tammy sat at a table with a man in a sharp charcoal suit.

“Ms. Klein,” he said, lifting his glass. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Please,” Tammy said, smiling. “Call me Tammy. And I’m thrilled you’re joining the firm, Mr. Evans.”

“Luther,” he corrected with a grin. “If you’re Tammy, I’m Luther.”

They clinked glasses.

“I have to say,” he went on, “I was blown away by what I saw in court today. You were prepared, confident, and you made opposing counsel look like a first-year law student.”

Tammy laughed modestly. “Well, I do what I can,” she said.

“How big is your team?” he asked. “I’m excited to meet them. A trial attorney is only as good as the people supporting them.”

“Oh, of course,” Tammy said smoothly. “I have three people under me. They’re phenomenal. Hardest workers you’ll ever meet. I’d introduce you today, but I decided to send them home. Day off. They’ve been working so hard. And we have another case coming up on Monday, so… rest now, work later.”

“Monday?” Luther asked. “You sure that’s enough time to prepare?”

Tammy flashed a confident smile. “Don’t worry about us,” she said. “We’ve got it.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “Get me the same results you got today, and I’ll take you and your whole team out for drinks. My treat.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Tammy said.

Later that night, when she called the office and Jennifer didn’t pick up on the first ring, Tammy scowled at her phone.

“Come on,” she muttered. “Pick up. I need you back in the office yesterday.”

When it went to voicemail, she huffed and hung up.

“What is wrong with that girl?” she muttered.

The weekend blurred into another marathon of late nights and early mornings for Jennifer. Her boyfriend canceled the trip with a long sigh and a soft, “We’ll reschedule, okay?” She cried in the shower where no one could hear her.

By Monday, she felt like a ghost haunting her own body.

There was no trial that day, despite Tammy’s panic. Just more prep, more memos, more “urgent” tasks, more little emergencies that all seemed to land on Jennifer’s desk.

On Wednesday afternoon, as the California sun glared off the mirrored windows of the high-rise, a man stepped off the elevator and into the reception area of Klein & Foster LLP.

He was tall, mid-forties, with warm brown skin and a calm expression that said he’d seen a lot and didn’t scare easily. His suit was expensive but not flashy; his tie was simple navy blue. He carried a worn leather briefcase instead of one of the sleek new models.

“Good afternoon,” he said to the receptionist. “I’m looking for Tammy Klein.”

“She’s not back from court yet,” the receptionist said. “You can wait in her office… or in the conference room.”

“Oh,” the man said. “In that case, maybe I’ll say hello to her team first.”

He glanced around.

“Hi,” a soft voice said from behind him. “Can I help you with something?”

He turned.

Jennifer stood there, a stack of boxes in her arms, a pen stuck in her bun, a yellow highlighter mark on her wrist. She looked tired, but her eyes were alert.

“I’m looking for Tammy’s team,” he said. “I’m Luther Evans. The new partner.”

Her mouth dropped slightly. “Oh,” she said, almost dropping the boxes. “Mr. Evans. I—I’m Jennifer. I’m… Tammy’s paralegal.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” he said, taking one of the boxes from her without being asked. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

“The… rest?” she repeated.

“Yes,” he said. “Tammy told me she has three people under her.”

Jennifer blinked.

“I’m not sure what she told you,” she said carefully. “But it’s just me. I’m the only paralegal assigned to her matters.”

Luther frowned. “Just you?” he asked. “So that Watson trial—the one that got dismissed last week—you and Tammy worked on that together?”

She shifted the box in her arms.

“Just… the one of me, actually,” she said. “She handled the argument in court, of course. But the research, exhibits, deposition summaries, trial briefs… that was my job.”

“How long did that take you?” he asked.

“Twenty-seven hours,” she said before she could stop herself. “More or less.”

His eyebrows shot up. “In how many days?”

“In one,” she said. “I mean, technically two, I guess, because it went overnight, but…”

Luther let out a low whistle.

“And the case you’re prepping for now?” he asked. “The one on Monday?”

“The research, the briefs, the summaries…” She lifted the box slightly. “This is all for that.”

He stared at her.

“You did all this alone?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes, sir. But I’m not complaining,” she added quickly. “I know this is an amazing opportunity. I want to be a trial attorney one day, so I know I have to pay my dues.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Jennifer,” he said finally, voice gentle. “Paying your dues is one thing. Being exploited is something else.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

That was when Tammy swept in through the glass doors, trial bag in hand, smile already in place.

“Court was great,” she said to no one in particular. “Case dismissed. We are on such a roll.”

She spotted Luther.

“Luther!” she said, turning the wattage up on her smile. “How are we?”

“I’m doing fine,” he said slowly. “Please, have a seat. I was just talking to your team.”

“Yes,” she said, dropping into a chair like she owned the building. “This is Jennifer. I’m sure you’ve already met. The other members of my team are out interviewing witnesses for our next case.”

Luther looked at Jennifer. She stared at her shoes.

“You can cut it out now, Tammy,” he said quietly. “I know Jennifer’s been doing the work by herself.”

Tammy stiffened. “That’s not true,” she said. “She’s had help. She just doesn’t like to brag. Do you, Jennifer?”

Jennifer’s throat tightened. She shook her head, panic rising.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” Tammy said, turning on Jennifer, her voice dripping with injured authority, “this is how you treat me? Going behind my back, spreading lies to a new partner?”

“I didn’t—” Jennifer began.

“You need to learn your place,” Tammy snapped. “You’ve been warned before about talking out of turn. You’re fired.”

Jennifer felt the floor drop out from under her.

“What?” she whispered. “Mrs. Klein, I—”

“You can pack up your desk and leave right now,” Tammy said. “You’re done here.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Luther said.

Both women turned to look at him.

“Excuse me?” Tammy said. “You’ve been here two weeks. I’ve been here nine years. You don’t get to override me on my own team.”

“After everything this young woman has done for you and this firm,” Luther said, “this is how you repay her? With threats and dismissal? I had a conversation with the other partners about you, Tammy. They told me some things. I didn’t want to believe them.”

He glanced at Jennifer.

“Until now,” he added.

“You see,” he continued, “what I’ve learned today is that Jennifer has been overworked, under-supported, and very likely underpaid. And you’ve been more than happy to take credit for her work while treating her like she’s disposable.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tammy said, color rising in her cheeks. “She’s never complained about her workload before.”

Luther turned to Jennifer. “Is that true?” he asked. “Have you ever been overwhelmed?”

Jennifer thought of all the nights alone in that glowing cubicle. All the canceled plans. The way her chest had tightened when Tammy told her to skip her boyfriend’s birthday trip. The way she’d swallowed the word “no” because rent didn’t care how tired she was.

“Yes,” she said finally. “I’ve been overwhelmed. But I didn’t feel like I was allowed to say it.”

Tammy rolled her eyes. “Of course you’re allowed,” she said. “If I ever went too far, you should have spoken up. Instead you blindsided me in front of a partner.”

“I asked for this weekend off,” Jennifer said quietly. “You approved it. Then you told me I had to work anyway.”

“Because we have work to do,” Tammy snapped. “Because your career is more important than a weekend getaway. I was trying to help you.”

Luther held up a hand.

“Enough,” he said. “Jennifer, you’re not fired.”

Tammy’s head jerked toward him.

“You can’t do that,” she said. “This is my department.”

“I can,” he replied. “And I am. In fact…”

He took a breath.

“Tammy Klein,” he said, his voice now carrying the weight of authority, “your position at this firm is no longer needed.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“Your employment is terminated,” he said evenly. “Effective immediately.”

“You can’t do that,” she repeated. “I’ve been here nine years. You’ve been here barely two weeks.”

“I can,” he said calmly. “Because I’m a named partner now. The other partners and I have discussed your behavior, and this confirms everything they were concerned about. I need you to go to your office, pack your belongings, and leave the building by the end of business today.”

Tammy’s eyes filled with angry tears.

“Please, Luther,” she said, dropping the icy tone and reaching for the charm she used in court. “I’m begging you. I was under pressure. We have tough clients. We need results. Sometimes I push. That doesn’t mean I deserve to lose my job.”

He shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s done.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then at Jennifer, eyes full of burning blame.

“This is your fault,” she whispered.

Jennifer flinched.

Then Tammy turned on her heel and walked out.

The door closed behind her with a soft click that sounded, to Jennifer, like the end of something heavy.

For a moment, the office was silent.

“You okay?” Luther asked gently.

Jennifer let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“I… I think so,” she said. “I just… I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that before.”

“Well,” Luther said, “get used to it. Because I’m going to make sure everyone in this firm is treated fairly. And that the people doing the work get recognized for it.”

He glanced at the boxes of files she’d been carrying.

“You’ve done a lot for us already,” he said. “And I see a lot of potential in you. Maybe one day, we’ll be talking about your promotion.”

Her heart skipped. “A promotion?” she repeated.

“If you decide you still want to work here,” he said. “Maybe even work directly with me.”

Her answer was immediate. “I’d love that,” she said. “You can always count on me.”

“Good,” he said. “Then here’s where we start. If I’m not mistaken, we don’t have another trial scheduled for at least a month. Is that right?”

She nodded.

“In that case,” he said, “I want you to go home. Right now.”

She blinked. “Right now?”

“Yes,” he said. “Right now. Take the rest of the week off. Paid. No emails, no drafts, no ‘just one quick thing.’ Sleep, see your boyfriend, eat something that didn’t come out of a vending machine. Then come back Monday, rested. We’ll talk about that promotion then.”

“A whole week off?” she repeated, like he’d just told her she’d won the lottery.

“A paid week off,” he confirmed.

Tears burned her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Really. Thank you.”

“Why are you still standing here?” he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

She grabbed her bag and her keys, moving on autopilot. At the door, she turned back.

“I won’t let you down,” she said.

“I know,” he replied.

When she stepped out of the glass tower into the bright California afternoon, the air felt different. Lighter.

Cars rushed by on Wilshire Boulevard. A food truck on the corner sizzled with lunchtime orders. Somewhere nearby, someone laughed.

Jennifer tilted her face toward the sky and exhaled.

For the first time since she’d walked into Klein & Foster as a nervous new paralegal, clutching her résumés and her dream of becoming a trial attorney, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Not exhaustion.

Not fear.

Hope.

And somewhere inside, under the hum of elevators and the tap of keyboards and the distant buzz of downtown Los Angeles, a new story was starting—one where hard work still mattered, where people were more than stepping stones, and where the right person at the right time could change everything with three simple words.

“She’s not fired.”