Staring out the diner window I held my coffee in my hands, hoping the heat would warm my heart. It was overcast again. The gray clouds seemed to drain the color of the world around it. Such was the normal weather for Seattle. In some way it comforted me. As if the clouds were weeping with me. In the midst of my despair the world was grieving with me. 

Six months had gone by since my departure. David and Jane called to check in on me. David called to find out if I was okay, settling in well. Jane was more persistent. I just told her that I needed a change. She knew something was wrong but couldn't force it out.  I wasn't sure what Lev had told them. It was clear they knew we had a fight. It could have been seen from the restaurant window but they didn't know what was said. 

However, the call I most expected never came. Lev was silent. Upon reflection I wondered if he knew what the fight was about. His silence made me wonder. It also made me realize that he didn't want to fight for our friendship or for me.

There was one question that I asked myself several times over the course of the next few months.

Did I make the right decision to leave?

When I left I packed up and removed myself from my life I had known. I didn't have a goal in mind. I didn't think about him coming after me or aiming to find myself. I just left.

No, I fled.

Like, a wounded animal. Perhaps that was why I lacked a plan or course. I was wounded. Severely so, and needed to recover before I could think clearly.

Should I have stayed or tried harder? Maybe.

 What was the point of me being away?

 Did it change Lev's behavior? No. 

Was it changing me for the better? I was uncertain.

 The desire for surety seemed never-ending. I wanted to know if my being here was the right choice. I knew that choices lead us to our purpose. Circumstances affected my path but this move showed me that I had the power to shift the course of my life. I just wondered if I had shifted it for the best. Unfortunately, my questions had no real answer. 

I wished my parents were alive. 

The older I became, the more I needed their clarity. I wiped a tear that escaped out of my eye. They died in a car wreck when I was fourteen. I became legally emancipated. I refused to enter foster care. I had no extended family. I was alone.  It was bad but Lev and Arabella made it okay. 

Sighing, I paid for my coffee and left for work. The doubt I carried for my life had made the world seem unstable. My only recourse was work. It was the only logical thing that I could grasp onto.

My efforts prove well. Within four months I was promoted from a general staff paralegal to the personal assistant of Mr Clark Welwore. It was a tremendous achievement. I was the youngest in the firm of secretaries. I knew some were not pleased with my new post but their qualms were silence by my driven focus.

Arriving before most I settled in for the day. Mr Welwore's office was on the forty-fifth floor. A corner office surrounded by pristine glass, his office demonstrated his impressive stature.  My desk was situated outside. I was no fool. I was on the outer spectrum of his grandeur.

By the time Mr Welwore arrived, I had been hard at work for the past hour. His appointments with cases were prepared, call sheets waiting and coffee on his desk. At 7:00 on the dot he footsteps could be heard down the hall. It sounded as firm as the rhythmic beat of an african drum. 

He walked in, firm posture and broad shoulders sucking the air out of the room. He was an intimidating lawyer who was the youngest to make partner.  However his greatest quality was his complete lack of interest in the personal matters of staff. The only thing that matter to Mr Welwore was the adept quality of the work that was done.

A commonality we both shared.

"Good morning Mr Welwore. Your messages are on your desk, alongside with your call sheet. Your first client is scheduled for nine am and your partners meeting will be at 9:30." I said, waiting for his instruction.

"Morning Katia. I'm well aware of my client appointments and my meetings. Tell me something I don't know." He said opening his emails, dismissing me as he usually did.

I waited on the side, completed undisturbed and unshaken by his rudeness. Mr Welwore was a man that was displeased by everything. He satisfaction was only seen by rudeness and disregard. His deeply cynical attitude was something I had grown accustom too. I suspected that his sense of humor had departed through something profound. 

Where he was rude, I was frigid and impersonal.

"This coffee is cold and bitter. Bring me another." He said, grimace after taking a sip. He held out the cup, barely looking up at me.  I took his mug and went to the kitchen. He said it every morning, no matter what the coffee tasted like. In time I realized that he just complained about the coffee, regardless of the actual temperature. As a result I would make two cups in the morning and present him with the first. After he rejected it I went to the kitchen and retrieved the second cup.

"Better." Said Mr Welworth, tasting a cup that was the exact temperature of the one made before. Oddly enough it was one of the more demanding aspects of his personality. When it came to the work he required he was rather simple. He wanted the best. As work was the only thing I had going in my life it was easy to achieve so. It was clear the ridiculous complaints were the only outlet for him to be bearish.

Or from falling in love with him.

His previous assistants had mistaken his sincerity for flirting. Several had left the firm after trying to pursue his heart. Perhaps his rudeness was a defense mechanism of sorts. Needless to say I was immune to his charm or good looks.

"Katia, bring me the files on the Robsen case and I need the pack treaty lines of the east coast." Said Mr Welworth. His voice filled with gruff annoyance. 

"Certainly sir." I replied back, neutral and utterly indifferent to his behavior.

"Katia, scan and email Morrison documentation of the his new lease agreement and where is the list of my appointments for next week?" He half yelled through the speaker. Before he was done I had click a few buttons and printed out a copy of his appointments. By the time he lifted his finger off the intercom button I was already walking into his office.

"Your appointments are automatically updated on your calendar on your email, desktop and phone sir. Here is a printed copy for you. I emailed Mr Morrison the new lease yesterday and a messenger dropped off the signed document for you. Here it is sir." I said, pulling the document from under a pile of folders he placed on his desk.  Taking it he studied it carefully, his piercing blue eye searching for a single error that would inevitably cost the firm money.

Meeting his approval he handed the document back to me to be sent out to the building agent, landlord and to be filed. 

For the next ten hours, so my day went. Incessantly ferrying folders to Mr Welworth, my feet ached. Physically I was tired. Mr Welworth on the other hand was mentally exhausted. In charge of accounts worth hundreds of millions the weight of responsibility curved his shoulders. Whist I juggled a ten balls in the air, he maneuvered hundreds.

I was sure that at one stage the law and drive was what pushed him. He seemed to be a man driven by the pursuit of success. At least he once was. Something had happened that had made him lose the joy he had for his job. Before he wanted to achieve something. Now he drowned himself in his work.

We were the same in that respect. Searching for understanding of the complex in what we could grasped.

"Goodnight Katia. See you in the morning." Said Mr Welworth, putting his coat on and walking to the door. His brow was furrowed over, something pressing on his mind. Whatever his thoughts were on it had caused him to ignore the obvious Seattle weather.

"Goodnight Sir. Here is your umbrella sir. It raining outside sir." I said, briskly walking after him. Turning around he grasped the umbrella. Caught off guard he halted and stared at me quizzically.

"Anything else sir?" I asked confused by his unusually behavior. For the first time in my employment Mr Welworth was looking at me. Not dismissing me with a flipant glance.

"No. Nothing else. Goodnight Katia." He said, turning sharply and leaving.

It was odd. Very, odd indeed. 

Arriving at my apartment, I found myself thinking about the incident. Switching on the lights and heating up a microwave meal, my mind reflected on his behavior. In my brief time working with Mr Welworth I had encounter several moments of bewilderment. Yet this had left me genuinely perplexed. Shaking my head I placed the meal on a plate. My time with Lev had taught me, pondering uncertain thoughts was wasted endeavor.

I sequestered the incident to a recess in my mind and pulled out my phone. To avoid any distractions at work I switched it off. Waiting for someone to call was draining. It was easier to focus if I left it off at the office. Placing it on charge it powered on and beeped as a message came through. My breathe halted in my chest.

Lev had called.