Passionate Assistant Attorney

Why did I choose law school in the first place?

Before death, my father said I should become a hero in the world of law. Fight crime, uphold justice. That's why I was named Ameena Justicia. How, very good for sure? Even if you're honest, the law doesn't need to be enforced because cassava stems can only stand upright. The law should be bought.

Hey, it's true. Listen to me. 80% of the world's problems can be solved with money. I think you got the name wrong. I want to change to Ameena Cuania, Always Go to Party when I was Young, Happy when Getting Old, and Go to Heaven after Die.

It's not just guys who want heaven to meet a girl as beautiful as Bae Suzy; I want to meet a guy like Kim Soo-Hyun. The name is a prayer. If you want your child to be rich, give him a name containing money elements.

But my father is a good person. It is impossible to give a frankly materialistic name. My father is a romantic man. When he sold meatballs, he never mixed rat meat. So honest. Unlike me, who justifies any means? The 2.8 GPA on the grade transcript is the result of cheating. If I didn't cheat, my GPA would only be one comma. Luckily my friends at law school used to be good; each exam gave me the cheat sheet I requested.

Why are my friends all good? I was also confused. I'm not pretty, just cute. My body is not tall, even so, attractive that many say I resemble a junior high school student. The brain is also like a processor, Pentium 2. Loading sometimes takes a long time, significantly when it's short. I do not have any advantages other than excess sin.

Besides, do I want to go to law school myself? I wish not to eradicate crime and uphold justice. That's Spiderman's job.

Before his death, my father advised me not to steal other people's rice pots. He encouraged me to go to and graduate from law school so I could become a lawyer. My goals are high, right? Of course. I want to be like a lawyer who likes to show off a ring the size of a potato.

Unfortunately, becoming a lawyer is not as easy as you hope. I sent fifty applications, but all were rejected. Starting today, even a year, I'm officially unemployed after graduating.

Mother said I was told to continue Father's business, to be a rat meatball seller-uh, sorry, beef meatballs. Even if I'm the one selling it, there's no guarantee that the meat used is natural beef or rat meat that can be found on the side of the gutter. If I were a meatball seller, the rats around your house would suddenly rarely walk around the channels, instead moving into bowls in adorable round shapes.

I said earlier that I don't have any advantages besides sins, right? I'm wrong. I have the benefit of not knowing myself. Despite being rejected 50 times, I was determined to apply to the 51st law firm.

The law firm I applied to the other time had no vacancies. I'm the only one who dared to use it. Unexpectedly, a week after I sent my application e-mail, there was an interview call from Candra, Utomo, Andika, Narendra and Partners Law Firm or CUAN Law Firm for short.

See, it's also a business. So don't be pessimistic. It's like saying, if someone's house doesn't receive guests, break down the door. It's open.

On the appointed day, I was ready with a white shirt top and red pant skirt. Why are you wearing a red dress? Grandpa Google said red is a colour that is sure to invite attention. All eyes will be on you. I hope the lawyer there will look down at my skirt, not my face or head because my head is empty. My head is filled with brains. My brain has nothing in it except cash.

"Mom, I m going now," I said goodbye to Mom.

Mother's job is to sell vegetable salad. Before dawn, I bought vegetables, peanuts and other spices at the traditional market. Now Mother is boiling a large pot of vegetables. The peanuts are ground.

"Yes, be careful. Pray a lot so that you will be successful in every endeavour," my mother advised.

"Of course. Asalamualaikum."

"Waalaikumsalam," said Mother, still busy stirring the pot.

After kissing the back of Mother's hand, I went out to warm up the old motorbike from my college days. My father used to buy used ones; he said riding a motorbike is more economical than taking a bus. But you're mistaken. This motorbike even made him bankrupt because he was diligent in and out of the workshop. Because it's old, I call this motorbike The Grandpa.

Brum, Brum...

Incredibly this morning, Grandpa doesn't cough, doesn't cranky. Well, I am done. I warm up the engine for about five minutes.

The distance between the house and the CUAN office is about thirty minutes if there are no traffic jams. Quite far. If there are traffic jams, my trip needs forty-five minutes to an hour. I left at seven to arrive at the office by eight o'clock.

The blue sky is slightly overcast. The sun shines bashfully like me when offered ten million. The main road is crowded with people going to work-jammed, solid creeping. I stopped when the red light came on. Suddenly, a drop of water was on my hand, still holding Grandpa's handlebars. Gosh, why wear all the rain events?

I slid down the sidewalk, grabbed a raincoat from the trunk and put it on. As soon as I got on Grandpa and I started, Grandpa didn't want to go.

"Grandpa, ouch... Your granddaughter needs this job. Please turn it on today. There is an interview." I begged with a pitiful face. I clasped my hands to worship Grandpa. But in vain. The grandpa sulked, not knowing the place and time. Even though I adored, pounded on the dashboard, and kicked the tires, Grandpa remained silent.

"Just take a motorcycle taxi, Sister. I will take you by motorcycle," said a voice beside me, a man in a black jacket with his face covered by a full-face helmet with the windows opened. From his appearance, it looks like he's a motorcycle taxi driver.

"Sister, huh? You're not my brother," I said curtly.

"Hei, don't be fierce. I want to take you, little girl. Where is your school?"

I clucked. Who also wants to go to school? Smart ass. I took a screwdriver pretending to check the engine, knowing nothing.

"Be careful, Little Girl. Please don't open it carelessly. Later you can't install it again; you don't know anything," said the motorcycle driver, who didn't want to give up.

I don't know why Grandpa suddenly relapsed. I don't see the world of mechanics. I threw the screwdriver onto the asphalt and stood before the motorcycle driver.

"Graha Nusa Kencana Building. How much?" I asked.

"What are you going to do there? You can't skip school. I will report it to your parents," the motorcycle driver threatened me.

What? I rolled my eyes. Ho, did he know my parents? The basis is not clear. I don't want to wait; I could run out of time.

"How much, Sir? Hurry up."

"one hundred dollars."

"Huh, why so expensive?" I asked, glaring.

"Okay, I'll give you eighty dollars. It's a traffic jam, Sister. It's also raining. I must buy herbal medicine since I don't want to get sick."

I sighed in annoyance. What do you want? There is no better choice than using a motorcycle service.

"Grandpa, wait here. I have a job interview first. Pray for it to go smoothly," I said goodbye to Grandpa. I rubbed his body before getting on the motorcycle driver.

Graha Nusa Kencana is far away. Plus, the rain is getting heavier and heavier like this, and the trip is getting longer. The motorcycle driver did not dare to step on the gas. The road is slow, just like a snail.

"This is the building," said the motorcycle driver, stopping before the outer portal.

"Come in, Sir. Why are you stopping here?"

The entrance is still quite far. I can sweat profusely if I walk.

"You just got here by that payment. If you want me to come in, you must pay ten dollar extra," The motorcycle driver answered.

Is it okay if I splash Ojek Abang's head with sewage water? Stingy is not approx.

Resentfully I took money from my wallet to pay for it. I ignored the thanks for giving Abang Ojek but immediately ran through the portal.

The building is Callan and d bona fide, according to my dream of working in an elite office. I ran, but why so far not up to? I'm already out of breath. The rain didn't; it just got heavier. Thank goodness I was wearing a raincoat. Otherwise, you can get soaked.

As I ran, a bright red sports car passed beside me. Even though it was wet, the car still looked shiny and smooth. The driver honked. I pulled over to let the car pass. Instead of being grateful, the vehicle stepped on a puddle of water which automatically splashed down my skirt.

"Hey, bastard! Stop!" I cursed while raising my hand. I would have thrown the glass car if there was a stone.

The car kept going, without noticing that there were beautiful people, eh familiar people, who shouted at him.

Shit, my skirt is soaked. Rich people have no morals. Who the heck is he? Opening the glass to apologise is not willing. Watch out for my revenge when I become a famous Lawyer.

Maybe my appearance is just like a mouse splashed in a gutter. My hair was dishevelled from taking off the raincoat. My red skirt was wet with rain puddles. My makeup faded in the rain. But I dared to enter.

This building is the most luxurious of the many skyscrapers I've ever been in-the tiles are made of brown marble with black accents. The people passing by are all wearing neat clothes, the girls are wearing high heels so that I can hear the clattering sound, and the boys are wearing shirts that fit their bodies resembling handsome guys in Korean dramas, which, when opened, immediately look like fantastic muscles. My faith would be destroyed. Every time someone enters, I smell the fragrance of expensive perfume. I guess the employees' salary here exceeds the government's minimum wage.

"Where are you going, Kid?" The security officer stopped me before I had walked half a meter.

I'm happy to say I'm young, but I don't want to be called 'Kid' either. It's like having a lot of siblings. It's better to be called 'Sister' or 'Miss' than 'Kid'.

"I am going to CUAN Law Firm," I said impatiently. My skirt is wet on my feet, plus the air conditioner is cold. I could freeze to death.

"What? Your parents are going to divorce?" asked the security officer.

Why are people playing accuse? Why do so many people want to be Mr or Miss know-it-?? Does my face look like a lost child?

"My dad is dead; divorcing my mom is impossible."

Because the security officer pretended to know, I was forced to explain my family's situation.

"I see, so you want to sue your inheritance rights," the Security officer continued his pretentiousness. "But CUAN Law Firm is expensive, Kid. Usually, only celebrities, government officials and successful entrepreneurs use their services."

Wow, don't underestimate Mr Security. Do you see poor girl's face, huh?

"You don't know who my parents are?" I asked with narrowed eyes. The security officer shook his head.

"Do you know who owns this building?" I asked again. The security guard still shook his head.

"Do your parents own this building?"

I smirked. I'm not lying. I didn't say yes, and I didn't deny it. He pretends to know.

"Hurry up; you let me in. If not, you'll be fired later," I threatened to be sure.

Voila! I'm successful. The security officer stepped back, giving way for me to pass. Usually, people who know it are easily fooled.

I wasted no time and headed straight for the elevator. Eh, what floor is CUAN Law Firm on?

I took HP to see the e-mail representative. CUAN Law Firm's office is on floors 20 to 22-three feet at a time. Imagine the size of this office.

"Give me luck," I said while touching the buttons 20, 21, and 22 alternately. I'm confused about which floor to go to.

My index finger finally stopped on the 20 buttons, which I immediately pressed. The elevator is transparent. I can see the floor below. The elevator glides fast. Resembling it in less than five seconds, I arrived at the 20th floor.

Ting!

The elevator door opens. I can smell rich people's perfume on this floor. The writings of Candra, Utomo, Andika, Narendra and Partners Law Firm were sculpted using gold materials. It's not real gold, but it still feels luxurious.

The office lobby is quiet. There is only a receptionist. She is young; I guess her age is around 20 years old. She looked up as soon as I came.

"Good morning. Have you made an appointment?" asked her with a professional smile.

"I applied for the position of junior associate. When I received an e-mail reply, I was asked to see Mr Adam Mahendra."

What is a junior associate? So, I'll explain a little about the description of a career in a law firm. The highest name is the Founding Partner or founder of a law firm. Lawyers can set up an office alone or with other lawyers. The partner usually holds another lawyer to find clients when the office runs. The income system for these partners is a fee and profit sharing for the law firm.

Under Partner, there is something called Associate. His job is to answer the questions. They are starting from making lawsuits, due diligence, and hearings in court to research. Associates are divided into junior, middle and senior associates. Associates are usually paid monthly or depending on the law firm's system. You can also share results from the lawyer fee and success fee.

Under partners, there is such a thing as an apprenticeship alias apprenticeship or a probationary period. Internships are usually taken from law faculty students who are willing to study. It can also be a fresh graduate and see whether their performance is good.

I should have applied for an internship or probation position because I had zero experience. When I was a student, I was busy hunting handsome upperclassmen. How do you know someone hit his head on the wall? His brain shifted slightly, so he thought I looked like Bae Suzy. Keep shooting me.

Unfortunately, all the seniors on my campus are healthy. Nothing wrong with that. So yeah, I've been single since childhood until now.

"Wait a minute, please." The receptionist then contacted someone via the intercom. She whispered. She is afraid I'm eavesdropping.

"Ma'am, go straight to the 21st floor. After the elevator, go straight; if there are turns to the right and left, take the right. Mas Adam's room is on the right side."

"Oh, ok. Thank you, Ma'am." I answered.

This is how it is if you have an office that is too big. Become confused. I got into the elevator again to the 21st floor.

Ting!

The vibes on the 21st floor are more horrifying than those on the 20th. There is no receptionist at all. I walked down the hall and then turned right. Room of Adam Mahendra, S.H, M.H. It's at the third door. I knock on the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

No answer.

Knock, knock, knock.

Still no answer.

Maybe I knocked it too weak. Finally, I took off my shoes. I knocked on the door with the toe of my shoe.

It's no longer 'Knock, knocks, knocks' but 'Dock, dock, dock.'

The door is opened. Now, I no longer knock on doors but knock on a guy's forehead!

"Damn Bastard!" I shouted reflexively, throwing my shoes back.

"Aw! Whose shoes are these?" shouted someone behind me.

A guy is standing in front of me. He's handsome when his eyes are not bulging like an owl. This guy seems to have a lot of cash. Yes, that's right. The office is called CUAN Law Firm.

"Are you Ameena Justicia?" asked the man.

"Yes. Are you Ahn Hyo-Seop?" I asked without blinking. "Eh, no. You must be an angel."

Instead of answering, the guy in front of me pointed at the nameplate on the door.

Oh, so this is Adam Mahendra, S.H, M.H.

"You, Mr. Adam? How can you be so handsome?" I asked.

Adam did not answer the ridiculous question. He pointed to the side. And then, a boy comes by carrying the shoes I threw earlier. "Sorry," I replied, taking my shoes and following Ahn Hyo-seop, the wannabe.

Adam sat in his chair. He pointed at the chair in front of him that separated the table. The room is enormous. Isn't it wasteful if all the lawyers are given a room this big? Adam looked at me from the ends of my hair. His gaze was unfriendly, like a cannibal that hadn't eaten in ten days.

"Are you sure you've graduated from elementary school?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, Sir. I don't think I even graduated elementary school," I answered honestly.

"Hmm... That's right," he said while looking at the computer screen.

I'm so tense up and down. What the heck is he reading in applications and resumes that have nothing?

"GPA 2.8, 5 years of graduation. No organisational experience. So, what do you do on campus? Selling meatballs?" he asked.

"You are a psychic, aren't you? How do you know I sold meatballs on campus?" I asked in amazement.

"So, did you sell meatballs?" Adam raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. So my dad had a meatballs café when he was alive. I offered the meatballs to lecturers, friends, and the chancellor. At first, I didn't want to graduate for five years. I wanted seven years so I could continue selling. Unfortunately, my dad died. No one can make meatballs as good as him."

Adam's brow furrowed deeper. It was maybe he is confused by my honest answer.

"During college, what law major did you take?"

"Civil Law, sir."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because the lecturer is handsome. His name is Alfred Lee. He looks like a TV soap actor. I liked him."

"It's a simple reason. Do you like civil law material?" Adam asked.

"Of course I like it." I nod confidently.

"Then why only get C?"

"Excuse me, sir." I looked down. "This is the effect of Mr. Lee. I often pay attention to his face than the material he conveyed."

Adam muttered. His face was so severe.

"Your criminal law score is good; you got an A," Adam said as if he had found a diamond in a toilet bowl.

That's good; I cheated on Adrian, a criminal law master. Adrian was accepted as a civil servant at the Ministry of Law and Human Rights. It's just that I can't possibly admit to an act that's out of character, right?

"That's enough. Thank you," Adam said.

"So, am I accepted?" I asked.

"What do you think?" Well, why did he even ask back?

"If I think you will accept me," I replied between confident and self-conscious.

"With your 2.8 GPA, no work experience, no organisational experience, and messed up answers?" Adam asked sharply.

"I have work experience. I was selling meatballs on campus."

"Then why don't you apply at the meatball cafe?" he asked.

"Because I want to be a lawyer, Sir," I whined.

"Please go home. Our law firm is not compatible with you," Adam said firmly.

"But, Sir..."

"Don't call me Sir," Adam said coldly.

"Oh, all right, Honey," I said.

"Please get out of my room," Adam ordered more clearly.

"But, honey...."

"Do you me to call security?" he asked.

I shook my head. Adam rushed out of the room. This is the 51st most messed up interview ever. But I promise I won't give up. I have to get this job.

I dreamed of getting a job and money, but I had to spend money to take Grandpa to the motorcycle hospital or regular repair shop. My stomach is rumbling; I haven't had lunch yet. I sweat profusely since I have not bought a drink.

"Ouch, Grandpa... Why are you so troublesome? Why do you have to break down? Please pity this poor servant." But I slapped my mouth. Words are prayers. If I say poor, later, I can be poor forever. Don't let that happen. I tapped Grandpa while continuing to demand him with great affection.

"Grandpa, don't break down, please. Pity your granddaughter, who is not yet rich but will soon become this famous lawyer."

Grandpa was silent, unmoved. My calves felt even more swollen, pushing Grandpa through the incline. The sweat keeps flowing. Oh my God, I'm so tired of being poor.

Mr Chiu's workshop can be seen in the distance. I stopped for a moment to wipe the sweat. Only a few seconds, continue the journey with the rest of the energy. People glanced at him; an elementary school student was forced to push a motorbike.

"Hey, little girl, what are you doing?" asked the kebab seller who traded in front of the elementary school.

"I am bathing in a pool full of flowers," I replied. "Don't you see that I push the motorbike!"

"Very fierce. Do you want any help?"

My mom said I shouldn't trust strangers. Maybe he wants to steal my motorbike. Even though Grandpa is old and often breaks down, Grandpa is an antique motorcycle. If it is sold, it can sell for one billion dollars.

Even though I almost fainted, I continued to push Grandpa to the workshop. Mr Chiu, who saw me, immediately greeted me with a glass of mineral water.

"Grandpa broke down again?" asked Mr. Chiu.

I drank mineral water while nodding.

"Come on, let me buy the motorbike for 100 dollars; it can be made for Susi's cage." Mr Chiu pointed at the turtledove in a bamboo cage before the workshop. If Mr Chiu weren't the owner of the workshop that my dad often owed, who knew Grandpa's ins and outs and, most importantly, could be in debt every time he repaired, I'd have gagged his mouth with rubbing ashes!

100 dollar? My Grandpa has no pride. More precisely, Mr Chiu, who doesn't know himself, haggles over other people's goods.

"Uncle, this is an antique motorbike. The price is 1 billion if bought by the King of England; you must know it."

Mr Chiu laughed. He intervened to treat Grandpa. His employees had given up; they couldn't take it anymore.

I waited for Mr Chiu to knock, strip, and operate on Grandpa. Customers come endlessly. Mr Chiu's workshop is selling well. Mr Chiu is great; he opened a workshop for 40 years until he was able to send his children to a private university. Uniquely, guests are always given a glass of mineral water whether they repair their vehicle or not.

"Uncle, how come the workshop is selling well?" I asked, has the mineral water served been given 'something'? "Did you make any deal with the devil?"

"Dealing with Hong Kong devil!" he exclaimed.

"It's sophisticated to deal with Hong Kong devil. Did you do when you go back to your hometown?"

"No, I mean, I don't have any dealing."

"Realy? But I see your workshop is never empty of customers. Please let me know how."

"Work hard, Ameena. Don't give up even though you get cursed, yelled at, and blamed; the shop has no customers. If we persevere, there will be a reward."

I immediately remembered the look of Ahn Hyo-seop with that local wisdom. Adam Mahendra did not insult, but it was enough to undermine faith. He should know that my breath is shallow because of his handsomeness. But instead of being suave, he was intimidating with his cold attitude. I was rejected and kicked out of his office to the point of trauma.

"If, for example, a customer is rude, what will you do?" Isn't it wrong for me to ask my parents for advice? Usually, advice from those with more solid experience.

"Apologize, and give 'something as an apology'."

Something like, what is that? I listened solemnly, like listening to the imam's sermon after the tarawih prayer.

"For example, discounts or special promotional offers for that customer."

"Oh, a bribe?" I asked.

Mr Chiu laughed. I'm good at making people laugh with random jokes. Should I be a stand-up comedian?

Brum... Brummm... Bruuuummm...

"Grandpa is already well!" I exclaimed excitedly while stroking the old motor body.

"The spark plug is damaged; it must be replaced. It's worn out."

"Thank you, Uncle. But as usual, I owe first. I will pay when I become a famous lawyer," I promised, even though I was pessimistic. For dozens of years, I have been a customer; even though I am in debt, Dad and I always pay. So, Mr Chiu is okay. The money in my pocket is barely enough; I have to bribe Adam to accept me at the CUAN law firm.

***

The money in my wallet was only two hundred dollars. This is my mother's pocket money to buy gas-only these two sheets, no more left. Duh, having no money is not good. That's why I don't want to have any; I need more money. There is no choice; I must get a job ASAP. One year, I have been unemployed for so long.

That's why I immediately implemented Mr Chiu's advice. Maybe yesterday, I was pretty annoying until Adam kicked me out. I bought brownies, which were quite expensive; the main thing is that the price can make me lunch for ten days. At eight in the morning, accompanied by Grandpa, I arrived at the Graha Nusa Kencana Building.

I'm confused; Adam goes to the office on what? Is it a motorbike? Or car, huh? But what brand of car? I am confused. Why don't I know about my future boss?

Yes, I'll be waiting in the office park. Incidentally, there is a pretty shady park near the parking lot. It's different, yes, the offices of the rich, the parked cars are mostly luxury cars.

I hugged the brownies I bought yesterday like a baby. If I were a mother, these brownies are babies, then who's Adam? I imagine Adam is a guy who makes me get pregnant, so I ask for his responsibility.

Hahaha... I'm getting more and more excited. It's okay, right? Now, I hope, who knows, it will come one day. If it's not Adam's, it's okay for others if they are rich.

While engrossed in daydreaming, a bright red car passed by. I glared, opened my eyes, and made sure it was the car that had stepped on the puddle yesterday until my skirt was wet. Maybe because of him, I failed to get a job.

I stood up, picked up a relatively large rock, ran towards the red Ferrari, and stopped him. "Hey, stop!"

It was ten centimetres left, and the red Ferrari was about to hit me, but it stopped. I still had time to think that if I hit his car, I might ask him to pay compensation, which is not cheap.

Well, the car door is open. A man comes out. The style is relaxed, like a Korean drama scene introducing calm the main character. The man was wearing a suit and sunglasses. I saw his face. The rock I was preparing to throw fell when he removed his sunglasses.

"Don't you know that your behaviour is dangerous?" Adam asked with a straight face, but his eyes were deadly. He glanced at me, then at a rock falling on the asphalt. "Do you want to throw stones at me?"

"Yes, dear. I mean, I want to throw, but use love. Can you?" I asked in a flirtatious manner.

"Don't be weird. Go home." Adam got back into the car.

It was then that Mr Chiu's words resonated. I can't give up. Isn't it time to kiss? So I stayed standing in front of the car. Adam is out again.

"Do you want anything else?" he asked. I wonder why her tone is still flat instead of snapping or something.

"Want to give this," I said, holding out brownies.

Adam accepted. I thought it was going to be thrown away, though.

"Thank you. Are you satisfied? Now go home," Adam begged.

"No, I want a job. I want to be a lawyer at CUAN Law Firm."

"You can't; you don't meet the qualifications."

"I'm ready to learn," I said persistently.

Adam stood up straight. We stared at each other in an unromantic place, the car park, until I was confused about whether to stay standing or pass out.

"I thought you had no strengths, but I was wrong. You have a tenacity that amazes me. Then I accept you, "said Adam.

Wow, am I mishearing?

"Not as a junior associate, but as my private secretary," he said.