Emma Goes to Work, Part 1

by PensiveWriterType

This is my first story, so I hope all you like it. It takes a little while to heat up in the first part, but after that it's pretty much non-stop. I love to know what people think, so emails are more than welcome.

Emma Ryan sighed audibly, casting a bored sort of glance to her mother to make sure she had heard it.

"I know, sweetheart," her mother, Sarah Ryan, said. "I promise I'll be done with this stuff soon."

It was bring your daughter to work day at the big law firm where her mother worked as a paralegal. When her mother proposed it, she had obviously known it wasn't exactly a thirteen-year-old girl's ideal way to spend the day.

She tried pleading with Emma's rational side first: "It'll be so educational. You'll be able to see what life is really like when you're done with school."

When that hadn't worked, she had tried playing to Emma's ego: "You're just such a smart girl, and your father and I both know how good you are arguing, so you'd make a great lawyer. Come see how they work for a day!"

Unfortunately, Emma had heard her mother complain way too many times about how the lawyers treated to her to consider this a compliment.

Finally, her mom said, "If you come and let me show you around the office, then you'll get to miss school for the day and I'll take you shopping after we're done." Emma had smiled a happy agreement. Now however, she was feeling as though she'd been duped.

"I thought you said you were going to show me around the office and stuff," Emma mumbled.

"I was, sweetheart, and I still am," she said, looking at Emma earnestly as she sat next to her desk. "It's just that I didn't expect Mrs. Morgan to put a pile of work on my desk first thing in the morning."

Emma could tell her mom really meant it, and she supposed that she understood this was her job and she had a boss, but she couldn't quite displace the pouty expression on her face.

Sarah weighed the disappointed look on her daughter's face—it clearly upset her to see Emma wasn't enjoying what she thought would be a great mother-daughter bonding experience—so, somewhat desperately, she offered, "hey, I've got an idea: why don't you go down to the lobby, get us a couple sodas and some unhealthy snacks from the vending machine, then come back up. By the time you're back and we've eaten, then I'll be all done for the day and I can show you around."

Emma still didn't look too impressed.

"And maybe we can get out of here early," she added.

Emma finally smiled. She really couldn't spend very long annoyed with her mom. She was just too good at being sweet.

Sarah smiled at her and handed her a few waded up bills out her purse.

She took the bills and stood up. As she was leaving though, she noticed an older, gray haired man she was sure was someone very important walk by her mom's desk. She wouldn't have thought much of it, if she hadn't seen the way his eyes moved to her mother, lingering on her in her business outfit—white blouse, khaki pencil skirt, black heels, and long blond hair in a loose bun. It wasn't the first time she had noticed the men in the office looking at her, and it stayed with Emma as she stepped into the empty elevator and the doors closed in front of her. She looked up and saw herself looking back at her in the gold mirrored doors of the elevator.

Emma's mom was an hourglass with full and feminine, rounded curves, while Emma herself was thin. They certainly looked similar. They had the same long, thick blonde hair, light blue eyes, and smooth complexion (minus a few fading pimples). Her mom's face came across as sweet and open though, while Emma's just looked young and shy. Emma's figure was more athletic with very small, pert breasts, a flat stomach, thin hips and bubbly butt. Her mom maintained a thin waist, flat stomach, and well toned muscles, but her hips were wide and her breasts were full. Emma didn't hate the way she looked, but she didn't feel like she would ever be feminine and sexy like her mom.

The elevator dinged and doors opened to the lobby, snapping Emma out of her self-indulgent daze before she could get really into her pubescent woes. She rolled her eyes at herself and exited the elevator, heading in the direction she thought the vending machines were in. She guessed wrong and found herself back tracking and turning this way and that around the lobby. Business men and women were every where going about their important jobs, and Emma quickly found herself feeling ridiculously young and childish as she searched among them.

She was surprised and happy then, when she finally reached the vending machines, to find another girl there that looked about her age.

"Oh hey," Emma said to the girl in front of soda machine. The girl turned to her looking surprised that someone here would speak to her. "Are you here for the whole 'bring-your-daughter' thing?"

"Oh... um, yeah," the girl said, quickly averting her gaze back to the vending machine. Her hand was hovering over the selections, but she didn't seem to remember what she had been doing.

"Right..." Emma said, looking at the girl a little more closely now. It was hard to guess how old she was, but Emma thought she might have been a year or two younger than her. By her dress, the girl obviously went a private school. She was wearing a grey pleated skirt that went a little past her knees, white blouse buttoned up to the collar, and a dark blue blazer emblazoned with a rather fancy looking but unrecognizable emblem. Her hair was brown and tied into two long pigtails behind her ears that went over her shoulders down her back. Her eyes were brown too, and even if she hadn't looked surprised and slightly frightened by Emma's presence, they would have seemed very big, especially against her creamy white complexion. All of these things combined to give Emma the impression she had just met the human form of Bambi.

"So... what grade are you in," Emma asked.

"Seventh," the girl replied diffidently.

"Oh cool, me too," Emma said, a little surprised she was the same age as the girl. "Um, did you get here late or something?" Emma offered.

"Yeah," the girl said, still hesitating over her decision. "My mom wanted to make sure I didn't miss my debate today, so my dad picked me up and dropped me off late."

Well, that settles that, Emma though. There definitely weren't any public schools around that offered debates for seventh graders.

"Oh, that's really cool," Emma said, moving to the snack machine and inserting a couple bills. "How'd you do?"

She saw the girl glance at her out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Emma looking and sort of spastically pressed a button on the machine for a diet Pepsi.

"We... um... we got first place actually," the girl said, reaching down to pick up the Pepsi once it had clanged down. She looked at it, obviously unsure of how it had been picked, before digging in her pocket, counting her change and placing most of it back into the machine.

"Really?" Emma said, reaching down and pulling her first cheeto pack out of the machine. "That's really awesome! You must be really smart. I'm jealous."

The girl looked at Emma, surprised again, then quickly back to the machine again, looking flustered all over again.

"No... I didn't really do much. It was mostly this other girl on our team. She's really pretty and smart and stuff...."

"Whatever," Emma said, putting another dollar in the machine. "You're just being modest. I bet it was all you."

Emma saw the other girl's white cheeks fill with color at this.

"Thanks..." she said, finally pressing the button for a Coke Zero. When it popped out at the bottom she looked at it satisfied.

"So look," Emma said, seeing the girl was about to leave. "Since we're both stuck here, do you want to hang out up in the office?"

The girl turned to Emma then, and for the first time she smiled. It was a diffident smile, but it made Emma think of the other friends she had, and she could think of so few friends who could smile as genuinely as the girl did then—diffident or not.

"I would... I'd like that," she said.

"Cool," Emma said, smiling at her new friend as she pulled out the second bag of Cheetos.

"My name's Emma," she said.

"Oh, my name's, uh, Abby," the girl said, giggling lightly but unable to look up at Emma.

"Cool, I'll see ya up there then, Abby."

"Yeah," she said, excitedly as she walked past her. Emma thought she was leaving but then the girl stopped, turned around abruptly and said. "Yeah, I mean, uh, I'll see ya up there too... you know... buddy... er... uh, Emma."

She giggled awkwardly again before turning about on her heel and disappearing around the corner.

What a weird girl, Emma thought to herself. But she also liked Abby. As she put money into the machine to get her mom and her diet cokes, she thought about her other friends. Most of them were always so fake and obsessed with being the cool kids—it was nice to meet someone like Abby who seemed excited just for a new friend and didn't mind being a little awkward.

By the time Abby got back off the elevator on her mom's floor, she was feeling in much brighter spirits. She would hang out and snack with her mom for a bit, get a tour of the office, then hang out with Abby (once she had found her) when her mom had to finish up her work for the day.

Unfortunately, her happy little bubble was popped not long after she reached her mother's desk.

Emma and her mom spent the next half hour after she returned enjoying the snacks and chatting as she finished her work. Things were all set for her to finish her work, start a tour, and basically just keep Emma from clawing her eyes out with boredom when she showed up.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Ryan," a cold voice over Emma's shoulder said. "Could you please tell me where the brief you promised me would be on my desk is this morning?"

Emma turned and found herself looking up and up into the towering figure behind her. Realistically, the woman was probably only about 5'10" or 5'11", but with her heels on and the aura she presented she seemed much taller, towering over Emma as she looked up at her.

The woman wore tall heels, for one thing, but she also wore a very fashionable yet intimidating black suit made up of a black pencil skirt, black blazer, black heels, and a white blouse tucked beneath and barely visible with the buttoned up blazer. Her hair was a dark, almost black, and it was tied up into a very tight bun, high on her head. Her eyes did look black, though Emma suspected they were probably a dark brown as well; they looked strict and dangerously beautiful in her high cheeked face. She was an attractive woman to be sure, but she also looked as though she used every piece of that beauty to get exactly what she wanted.

"Mrs. Morgan..." her mom said, surprised. "I placed that brief on your desk this morning...."

Mrs. Morgan moved past Emma as if she wasn't there to get closer to the desk, resting her palms on her mom's haphazardly organized desk and bending down to look her in the eyes. Emma could smell her expensive perfume as she passed.

"Are you saying I don't know what is and is not on my desk, Mrs. Ryan?"

"No ma'am," her mom said quickly. Emma felt her ego shiver under her skin. Her mother was the nicest person Emma had ever met. Who did this woman think she was to treat her so rudely?

"I'm fairly certain that I did it... I stayed late finishing it yesterday."

Mrs. Morgan simply arched a dark eyebrow.

"But, uh," her mom quickly added. "I think it's certainly possible I'm mistaken. It must have been that other thing I was working on or... well, something."

Emma's jaw dropped. Why was her mom just rolling over? It was obvious she had done it, why was she just agreeing that it had never happened?

"That's disappointing," Mrs. Morgan said. "I expect you to have it on my desk by the end of the day."

"But Mrs. Morgan..." Sarah started.

"Yes?" Mrs. Morgan said acidly.

Emma's mom seemed to have to summon her courage before saying, "Well, it's just that its bring your daughter to work day..." she looked at Emma, "I was hoping to be able to show Emma around the office and tell her what we all do here."

Mrs. Morgan lifted herself from the desk and turned to look at Emma for the first time. In a single glance, she seemed to take in Emma, her t-shirt, her jeans, and seemingly everything she wore beneath. Emma felt like she was completely naked before that gaze. Still, when Mrs. Morgan's dark brown eyes found hers, she didn't look away.

"Mrs. Ryan," Mrs. Morgan said, leaving Emma and turning back to her mom. "I'm quite certain that I know what day it is today. As you can see, my daughter is here today as well."

She turned around completely this time, and Emma followed her gaze to find Abby standing against the wall and out of their way. Emma's mouth gaped opened again. The way Abby's eyes stared fixedly at her feet, and the color in her pale cheeks, told Emma everything she needed to know about what Abby thought, but she still couldn't help but feel betrayed by her relation to her own mom's tormentor.

"See?" Mrs. Morgan said. "My daughter is here as well. Instead of shirking my duties, I'm bringing my daughter with me to my important meeting to see how I do my job. I'm not using her as an excuse to avoid work. Do you understand what I'm saying, Mrs. Ryan?"

"Yes, Mrs. Morgan, I do."

Emma's teeth were clenched tight, grinding against each other harder every time Mrs. Morgan spoke.

"I'm saying that you should use this opportunity to show your daughter your hard work and not a lazy attitude."

It was a sign of how well her mom knew her that she chose that exact moment to shoot Emma a hard, restraining look because she must have known that Emma was about to say every rude thing she could think of to the woman.

Mrs. Morgan might have caught this look because for a second she seemed to glance at Emma. She seemed to weigh her slightly differently in that moment.

"Yes, Mrs. Morgan," her mom said, snapping her boss's attention back to her. "I understand completely what you are saying. I'll have the brief on you desk by the end of work today."

Mrs. Morgan rose to her full height and nodded down at Emma's mom.

"Come along, Abigail," she said, gesturing towards Abby.

They both moved towards the back of the office, but Abby cut a quick glance towards Emma when her mother's back was turned. That glance showed all the sympathy and apologies in the world. It was hard to stay mad at her, but Emma was determined to try.

"Mom!" she said once her boss was out of hearing range. "You obviously know that you did that, so why are doing it all over again?"

"It's complicated," her mom said, returning to the mindless clicking and typing on her keyboard. "I do a lot of work here for Mrs. Morgan, and it's hard to remember what I do and when I do it. Mrs. Morgan can be very... intense, but she has also been very good to me. If she says something wasn't on her desk, then I believe her. I know what to write, I just have to type it all out."

"But I thought we were going to... you know, hang out and stuff?" Emma said a little childishly.

"I know, sweetheart," her mom said, "and I'm really sorry. I'll try to finish as fast as I can. Why don't you go explore the office some on your own for a little while?"

She was already engrossed in her word processor by the time she said this, and Emma knew her arguments would fall on deaf ears past that point.

But, that didn't mean she was finished with this argument. Her mom might be willing to take her evil boss's word for it, but Emma sure as hell wasn't.

A few minutes later, Emma was moving towards the opposite end of the office. On this end, away from the conference room, there were no cubicles and desks like her mom's end of the office where the paralegals and associates were kept. Here, there were actual office doors and important looking name placards.

On the very end of these, there was the main receptionist's desk, followed by three more office doors belonging to the senior partners. The pretty young receptionist manning this station looked particularly frazzled at the moment, as she had several clients waiting to been seen and probably several more on the line to her headset judging by the blinking lights on the telephone as Emma snuck by.

Emma wasn't at all surprised to find the name placard she had been looking for on the corner office door. She glanced back behind her, making sure the receptionist wasn't watching her and opened the door to the office belonging to Mrs. Rebecca Morgan, J.D.

Emma was a little surprised when she walked in though. She knew corner offices were supposed to be important, but the view beyond the enormous window in front of her made her feel impossibly small. A childish wish inside her made her want to stand in front of that window and look down on the little people walking like ants, but she knew she had something to do.

In front of that window, Mrs. Morgan had a truly massive Mahogany desk. Behind that and but positioned to not obstruct her very important view, she had a wardrobe. It looked old, much older than the desk, and had intricate carvings. It seemed odd for a moment that the wardrobe seemed to influence the room more that her big, important desk, and Emma wondered if it wasn't some heirloom from Mrs. Morgan's past.

Still, she couldn't let herself dwell on her over active imagination; there definitely wasn't any Narnia around here. Beyond the wardrobe and desk were several rows of shelves stacked with law books and globes and other things that made women and men of her stature feel important, but all Emma was concerned with were the papers on Mrs. Morgan's desk.

There was no outbox or inbox on a desk that nice, but there was certainly an order to the piles stacked around her computer. She crossed the distance to the desk in a quick instance. It was obvious one pile was full of new crisp drafts while the other was full was of worn papers that had been heavily revised by Mrs. Morgan's own hand. Emma went to the pile of new drafts, and began searching through it frantically.

She was most of the way through the pile when she heard voices outside the door, and her blood ran cold. Her eyes widened, and she dropped the stack of papers.

She had to hide.