Justin Verlander: A Short Story

I was sitting in a well-lit room laden with dark furniture. The waiting area to the office contained two comfortable armchairs; an expensive looking mahogany coffee table; a bookshelf which hugged the wall and contained numerous books about law, politics, and American history. I felt intimidated, but I didn’t want anyone to notice. Especially not the woman who now filled the doorway with her presence. She stood about 5 feet 5 inches tall with shoulder length hair. While her skin was brown, her hair and eyes were darker. She wore a classy beige dress with a white overcoat. She seemed to radiate confidence, drama, and importance. Her expression was firm, but her eyes were soft and revealed her passion for helping others. This must be Olivia Pope.
“Justin Verlander? Come on into my office and start talking,” she said as she directed her unblinking gaze at me, “you have quite a lot of explaining to do and I don’t have all day.” She left the doorway to go back into her office, but her presence

“Thank you, Justin. However, I’m still not sure where the tapes that you sent me fit into the picture. When did Hannah make the tapes?” “I guess she made the tapes right before she died. In, like, preparation or something. I think it’s kind of sick, to be honest. I mean, come on! You can’t just live your life blaming everyone else for your own problems.” I could feel myself heating up, and I let it happen. “Sometimes you have to man up, and stop being a little bitch about everything. God, she whined and cried about everything. She was so annoying about it.” Olivia stiffened, and her eyes became steely. “That’s enough, Justin. You’re starting to wander off topic. Remember, you’re on my time,” she stated resolutely. I felt ashamed. I mumbled a shy apology as I watched Olivia check her wristwatch. “Speaking of my time, we ran over our scheduled appointment time. Can you come back to my office at the same time next week, so we can