The Phantom's Gambit

This place could pass for Human trafficking and the thought alone sent shivers down my spine.

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I pulled out my phone to call him, but just then, I received a voice note from him. I lifted the phone to my ear, listening intently.

’I know that’s not your usual place to work, but the guy paid me a good amount of cash to advertise his firm. I believe if he can pay that much, then something good might come off it. The firm is legally registered, you can check if you want, but I advise you try it out. If you don’t like it, that’s fine. Just give it a shot, cause it’s the last one I can help you with.’

The voice note ended… and I still remained standing there awestruck. I checked the building for a name and I found… ’Bloodworth & Slaughter, Attorneys at Law’.

"Bloodworth and Slaughter?" I scoffed. "Very reassuring." I turned to the internet for validation, and to my surprise, it confirmed the firm’s legitimacy.

Legally registered, and my last shot... I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and walked in.

I expected a dingy, run-down space, but instead, I was met with crisp, clean interiors. The walls were painted white and the furniture was minimal, but were all black. It had a nice aesthetic… that made me somewhat bold to take three more steps in.

But that step was enough to look around the place; it was nice and quiet, too quiet for a firm.

I noticed as I slowly turned and observed the place. No secretary, no security cameras... it was eerily quiet. And then, just as I completed my 360-degree scan, I let out a startled yell: "HOLY!!"

I yelled out as I came face to face with a woman. One that I hadn’t noticed creep up close— how the hell did she manage to creep so close within mere seconds?

"I take it that you’re here for the job?"

The job? Why did that sound so ominous? Like a hitman’s contract or a secret society’s initiation. I mentally rolled my eyes, catching myself mid-drift into another internal monologue.

"Yes, I’m here for the associate attorney position," I replied, trying to sound confident and composed, and clarify my purpose, just in case I had somehow ended up in the wrong place.

"You’re right on time, right this way please," she said, leading me to a door. The clicking of her heels on the tile flooring was the only sound as we walked and I wondered how I had missed the sound of her heels when she crept on me.

She opened the door and ushered me in. I forced a smile and stepped inside. The door remained open, but she didn’t follow me in. At least, the open doors were a small comfort.

As I entered the office, I took in the scene. A woman sat at the desk, intently studying some files - or pretending to.

I steeled my nerves and walked forward, my eyes fixed on the woman at the desk.

I decided to introduce myself, but before I could utter a word, she cut in without looking up from the paper. "Take a seat."

I sat down, and she dropped the file on the table, finally giving me her full attention.

"How old are you?" It wasn’t the typical interview question I was expecting, but I replied promptly, "Twenty-two."

She nodded, "Do you have any work experience?"

"No, I don’t have direct work experience with a law firm," I replied curtly.

"I don’t need a newbie," I heard a masculine voice from behind, but then again I felt like it was all in my head. Not wanting to turn or miss the chance of getting a job, I blurted out.

"However, I graduated with honors from a prestigious University last year, and during my time in law school, I actively participated in several moot court competitions and interned with a non-profit organization focused on human rights. Those experiences not only deepened my understanding of the law but also helped me develop strong research, writing, and analytical skills."

"Too desperate," the masculine voice repeated, now I was certain I had indeed heard the voice from behind, but I resisted the urge to turn around. Instead, I sat calmly trying to maintain my composure.

The lady, my interviewer, cleared her throat and asked another question. "What can you offer to our firm and why do you want this job?"

There it was... the most-asked question in all interviews. I opened my mouth ready to give her the cliché answer I’d practiced over and over again when the masculine voice moved from behind me and came to stand at the side, picking on a candy I hadn’t noticed before on the table and starting to munch.

I did my best to not dart my gaze to his direction.

"Just watch, she’s going to tell you she wants the job to make humanity better," he told my interviewer as though I wasn’t even there.

I opened my mouth to respond to the interviewer, still not looking the man’s way.

"Because I want to put all I have learned to the test, with the aim to further my skills and take your firm to the next level. I also want this job because it’s the logical next step after completing my education, and to start earning a return on the investment I made in my education. And, yes, to excel in my field and provide assistance where I can,"

I said in one breath, my gaze fixed on the woman opposite me, who looked taken aback. I could feel the male gaze on me, but I didn’t care – it’s not like they would give me the job anyway.

Just when she opened her mouth and I expected a ’We’ll get back to you on email,’

Instead she said with a smile, "You are hired. You are to start as from tomorrow,"

My eyes widened. Wait what… I wanted to ask, somewhat baffled.

"As for your monthly payment, we can pay you ten thousand dollars weekly, it increases the bigger a case we receive."

Wait what?????

"The dress mode is neutral… wear something decent."

"If that’s the case," I started, finally finding my voice. Before I knew it, my index finger rose to point at the man standing beside me, without looking at him.

"Why is he wearing something indecent?" I asked, my gaze still fixed on my interviewer.

I didn’t miss the shocked look on her face, as though she was just noticing the shorts - or perhaps something else. I soon confirmed it was something else when the man grasped the table and turned to face me, forcing me to meet his gaze properly.

"You can see me," he said, his tone ambiguous - was it a question or a statement? That I wasn’t certain of, but I responded anyway.

"And your pink boxers."