RomCom Cliché

Chapter Twenty-One

Rebecca didn't see Freen for the rest of the week and politely declined the offer of drinks on Friday night to meet the rest of her friends.

It wasn't that she didn't want to see her, only that she stood by their conversation at Nun's, that she'd be mad and confused even while loving her completely.

So she struggled through the conflicting feelings and went to her session with her therapist, who was pleased with her progress, and went shopping with Nam, spending thousands in retail therapy, even if her friend firmly insisted Rebecca wasn't allowed to buy anything baby-related.

She'd told Heng, of course, and then because they were such a tight- knit group, whose main hobby consisted of day-drinking and night-drinking, and every other time of drinking, she told everyone else.

There was shock and surprise and ultimately happiness and congratulations, but they'd cancelled bottomless brunch in favour of regular brunch at Ratch's favourite café on Tuesday.

On Saturday, Rebecca planned to meet Freen for breakfast at Noonan's and rose early, as usual, trying to stick to her schedule, despite it miserably being absent of anything work- related.

Rebecca missed working, missed the productivity of hard work and the gratifying feeling of winning a case, or at the very least getting a big settlement outside of court.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much free time on her hands; not since the couple of weeks between moving across the country and getting settled into Nam's place.

It didn't suit her.

She had her phone on speaker, an altogether troubling sensation for Rebecca, who always preferred to take her calls privately, no matter if she was alone or not, as a by-product of too many confidential calls around prying ears. Now, she could put her friends on speaker and let the habit lapse, with no job looking in her future.

"He's blacklisted me," she complained as she rifled through the closet of clothes. "I'm telling you. Do you know how easy it would be for me to get a job as an ADA? My resumé is insane for someone my age. I could be AD if they were holding elections for the post, but I don't even get a callback for assistant?"

She scoffed and pressed her mouth into a flat line as she pulled out a thinly knitted polo shirt, fingering the soft ribbed fabric.

The cream would pair nicely with the beige cigarette pants just returned from the dry cleaners. She pulled it off the hanger and put her arms through the short sleeves as Irin replied.

"Have you called the DA's office? Surely you could talk them into an interview at least."

"Dawson probably has them in his pocket. They probably didn't even call West for a reference."

"Something will show up. Otherwise, you could always start your own firm."

Smiling to herself as she pulled on the pressed pants, tucking in the polo shirt, Rebecca's eyes shuttered. "Yeah? Will you come and lead my finance department?"

"If you needed me to."

Chuckling, Rebecca slipped on her boots and zipped them up, fixing the legs of the pants so they sat properly over the leather. "Liar."

"Maybe try some NFP work for a bit. Find a charity you're passionate about."

"Mm, I'm all for donating to them, but my passions aren't in... medical malpractice suits, or whatever. It's fine. I'll just... enjoy my time off. It's like a vacation, I guess, and I don't know how long it's been since I've had one of those. I don't think the wedding counts."