Existentialism

The clicking of her heels against the marble floor was what first alerted everyone to her presence. Her walk was one that demanded attention; the sheer determination in every stride made it clear she was meant to be successful.

"I'm on my way now, Richard, I'm in the building," Raina said, the sleek, mobile phone to her ear. "I know I'm late, the interview at the courthouse went overtime. Well, of course I'll win, how is that even a question?"

The arguing woman disappeared into the elevator, obviously prepared for whatever the newest meeting with her boss was about. Raina West was one of the best defence lawyers in New York City; she made people listen to her even when they allowed their prejudices towards her age get the best of them.

When she stepped out onto the seventh floor, Richard Arthurs was waiting for her. He had a grandfatherly smile on his face, one he usually wore when he had good news for her.

"Raina, it's about time you got here, I don't appreciate tardiness." The twenty-six year old woman opened her mouth to protest, but he chuckled. "I'm only joking, Raina. Now follow me, we have a lot to talk about."

The older man settled himself into the chair in his office, gesturing for her to take the empty seat on the other side of the desk. "In the last two years that you've been working here, you've proven countless times how capable you are of handling your job despite how young you are," he began, waving away her thanks. "Recently, a young man was convicted of gang violence and drug possession. He had too much for it to be solely for him, but the police have no proof that he was going to sell it.

"He's been in and out of the courtroom for minor convictions ever since he was sixteen. Fighting in school, on the streets, the possession of a weapon on school property, which he claimed he only keeps on him in case of self defence," Arthurs rolled his eyes at this point, making it clear he didn't believe that for a minute. "We've never really been able to fault him too seriously for any of his actions; he was in and out of juvi until he turned eighteen, but he kept a rather low profile in the last year until now. You're probably trying to figure out what this has to do with you."

Raina nodded her head slowly, processing everything she was just told. "You said he'd kept a low profile in the last year. Does that mean he's only 19 now?"

Arthurs nodded. "It's either he kept out of trouble in the last year, which I highly doubt, or he made sure he never got caught. But like I said, that's until now.

"The man they beat up is now in critical condition. He arrived in emergency barely breathing. No stab wounds, but there was a gun shot fired right before the police arrived. The young man wasn't in possession of the gun and it couldn't be found anywhere, so they're assuming he didn't fire it, but he was the only one who couldn't get away. There was blood all over his clothes, so we know he had some part in it," Arthurs continued. "And now, for the reason I'm telling you all of this. The man who they beat up will be out of critical condition in a few days and will be ready to speak to you about what happened. It's your case."

A bright smile lit up her face, and she jumped up to shake her boss' hand. "Thank you so much, Mr. Arthurs," she stopped at the look he gave her and quickly corrected herself. "Thank you so much, Richard! You won't be disappointed."

Arthurs smiled, "That's what I'm hoping for. You'll need to go down to the courthouse again at two to pick up the files for the case and meet the prosecution lawyer. He's some new hotshot right out of law school."

A smirk tugged at the corners of Raina's lips. "Like me?"

"Of course not Raina, you're an exception. I'd have been an idiot if I didn't hire you," he said. "Now get out of my office, I have work to do."

Raina laughed, gathering her stuff. "I'll see you later, Richard."

Arthurs smiled fondly after she left. Raina West was a force to be reckoned with, that was for sure. She absorbed information like a sponge, and was a spitfire, in and out of the courtroom. She was exactly like his grandson, a definite handful. God help them all if they ever met.

A/N: TAKEN DOWN FOR EDITING.