Flash to Perry's office earlier that week.
"Dear God, if you can't get my fucking coffee order right, what makes you think I'd trust you enough to give you a junior spot on a kidnapping trial?! Jesus fuck, how did you pass first year? Honest to god, it's like they're handing out law degrees from out of thin air--"
Spittle was flying from Perry's mouth, showering his office with saliva as he ripped the summer student a new one to relieve some stress. Everybody did it, it was a rite of passage -- and yet, in this circumstance, it was totally justified.
She should've known; Perry diCarto took his coffee black. Everybody knew that.