Tides of Truth [03] Greater Love (17 page)

Julie narrowed her eyes. “I’ll still accuse you, but I may not be able to make it stick.”

“And other research projects will surface,” Maggie said to me. “Do you have any interest in doing appellate work?”

“I like writing briefs, but Julie is a better writer than I am. Her memos last summer were great.”

“Not good enough to get me a job offer.”

“That’s not the reason—”

“Did Mr. Carpenter tell you why they offered you a job and not me?” Julie shot back.

“No.”

“Zach didn’t give you a clue?”

“He’s an associate.”

Julie pouted. I fidgeted in my seat. Maggie broke the awkward tension.

“Whatever happened in the past, the three of us are in this together now. We’re the first all-female firm in the history of Savannah. People inside and outside the legal community are watching us. Some want us to succeed; others would be glad if we failed. But if we work hard and do a good job for our clients, there’s no reason why we can’t prosper and have a good time doing it. I’m looking forward to the future.”

Julie’s face brightened. “Good speech, Coach. We ought to put our hands together and yell ‘Team!’”

I returned to my office with the thick stack of files and Maggie’s final instructions ringing in my ears that my first priority was to make sure we weren’t about to miss a time deadline or statute of limitations. Fear produced a burst of adrenaline. A couple of hours later I turned down Julie’s invitation to go to lunch because I was in the middle of researching the deadlines and notice requirements in the materialman’s lien case. It was an area of the law in which particularity of language developed hundreds of years ago in England still held sway in the United States.

“Do you want me to bring you something?” Julie asked.

“Uh, any kind of salad would be great.”

I reached for my purse.

“No money necessary; today is on me,” Julie responded. “When you get a paycheck you can buy me a drink.”

“Of iced tea.”

“With a shot of hard lemonade. See you in a bit.”

I was creating the forms for the lien when Julie returned and placed a clear plastic container of food on my desk.

“It’s mixed greens with oriental chicken and a sesame dressing,” she said.

I lifted the lid. It looked and smelled good.

“Thanks. I’m almost ready to file the lien for a concrete company that didn’t get paid for paving the parking lot at a new convenience store.”

“Oh, that’s my client,” Julie said.

“Yours?”

“I met the owner’s son at a bar. When he asked for my phone number, I gave him the one here at the office. When he realized this was a law office, he asked if I could help him out. He’s in the business with his father. I asked a few questions, and we ended up talking about the claim so long that he forgot to ask me out.”

“Would you have said yes?”

“No, but it would have been a painless rejection. I can stick a knife in a man’s heart and pull it out, causing only a minor, momentary discomfort.”

“I wouldn’t mind representing a concrete company,” I said. “Maybe I can meet with the son and his father.”

“Sure. Set it up and leave me out of it. The son had cement under his fingernails. I’m sure the father is as bad, or worse.”

After Julie left, I munched my salad, surprised at how excited I was about marketing my legal services. I guess it had to do with building something that could be concrete to me—a law practice.

B
Y THE TIME
I
MADE SURE WE WEREN’T IN IMMINENT DANGER OF
committing legal malpractice, it was late afternoon. I was tired, but it was a good kind of fatigue. Julie poked her head in my door.

“Shannon’s gone. You can come out now.”

“What?”

“I know you didn’t want to face her again today. Don’t worry. By tomorrow her kids will have driven out any memory of your connection to Dabney.”

“I doubt it. People don’t forget Sister Dabney.”

“True,” Julie admitted. “But maybe Shannon won’t hold it against you. Hey, you’d better go home now if you want to change clothes before dinner and plaster on your makeup the way Zach likes it.”

“What are you going to wear?” I asked.

“Nothing that will embarrass you or distract the men,” Julie said, straightening her shirt. “This is your tea party. Zach set it up because he wants you to see that he’s a better candidate for your hand in marriage than Vinny.”

“Whatever.” I laughed.

“So, don’t worry,” Julie continued. “I only express my honest opinion when we’re having girl talk. Guys have to be kept in the dark.

They can’t handle the truth.”

A
T
M
RS.
F
AIRMONT’S HOUSE
I
GAVE THE ELDERLY WOMAN A QUICK
summary of my first day on the job while I heated up supper. Tonight, she didn’t remember meeting Sister Dabney. When her memory of the present day dulled, Mrs. Fairmont could more easily remember names and faces from the distant past than recent contacts. When I gave her the goods news about passing the bar exam, she gave me a satisfied nod.

“I’m glad you didn’t stop at a bar on the way home,” she said. “Christine should listen to you. She drives after having a couple of drinks. Someday she’ll be sorry if the police stop her.”

After eating supper, Mrs. Fairmont returned to the den to watch TV. I had time to clean the kitchen then change into a nicer dress before Zach and Vince arrived. I stood in the foyer and watched the street. Zach pulled up in his white car. As soon as he stopped, Vince got out. I didn’t wait for him to ring the doorbell.

“If I’m not back before you go to bed, have a good night’s sleep!” I called out to Mrs. Fairmont.

Flip barked at the sound of my voice, and I couldn’t make out the older woman’s response.

Vince held the car door open for me. He looked tanned and rested. After I got in, he sat behind me. I turned slightly sideways in my seat so I could see both men. It had been a long time since I’d been with both of them at the same time. They were both wearing dark pants and white shirts with conservative ties.

“Congratulations,” Vince said. “Are you ready to celebrate?”

“Yes.”

“How was your first day at the office?” Zach asked as he pulled away from the curb.

“I survived. What did you two do today?”

It was odd listening to the two men describe their activities at the firm, knowing that I wasn’t going to be part of their working world.

“Maggie saw Mr. Carpenter in court at a criminal motion calendar this morning,” I said when there was a pause in the conversation.

“What was his client’s name?” Vince asked.

“Hacker, Hackney, or something close to that.”

Zach and Vince exchanged a look. Neither spoke.

“Do you know who it is?” I asked.

“Not much beyond a name,” Zach said. “Mr. Carpenter sent out a firm-wide e-mail early in the week to make sure we didn’t have a conflict of interest with several individuals and a few companies. One of the people listed was named Hackney. Mr. Carpenter is going to pull in several lawyers to help him in the cases.”

“What kind of cases?”

“Some business matters and a big criminal case. One of the women in the word-processing department made a comment to me, but I’m not sure she really knew anything.”

“What did she say?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Zach replied.

“If you’d taken the job with the firm, you’d probably be in the middle of it,” Vince added with a cough. “Mr. Carpenter wanted me to do some research, but Mr. Braddock nixed the idea.”

I would have to get used to being an outsider when it came to Braddock, Appleby, and Carpenter. We arrived at the restaurant, a local steak place. I didn’t see Julie’s car in the parking lot.

“Not a lot of tourists come here,” Zach said as we got out of the car. “They want seafood, not steak.”

We waited inside for Julie, who arrived, somewhat breathless, a couple of minutes later. She’d not kept her wardrobe promise. Her neckline plunged a few inches past modest. I felt sorry for Zach and Vince.

“Hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she said, flashing her best smile. “Let the party begin.”

The host took us to a table for four. Julie and I sat across from each other with Zach on my right and Vince on my left. We’d barely opened our menus before Julie launched into the story about Sister Dabney’s appearance at the office. Unlike Mrs. Fairmont, Julie’s memory was razor-sharp, and she told the story with such detail that I had to remind myself she’d not been there.

With Julie dominating the conversation I devoted my attention to the menu. When the waiter approached to take our order, I glanced up and saw that Zach was looking at me, not the menu, not Julie’s neckline. I rewarded him with my best smile.

“Order whatever you want,” he said to the three of us. “You only have a day like this once in life.”

I ordered the filet mignon. When the food arrived, Julie slowed down the conversation long enough to cut into her steak.

“Tami was really out to impress Maggie,” she said between bites. “She worked right through lunch even though we don’t pay overtime to salaried employees.”

“I didn’t want to commit malpractice my first day on the job,” I replied, then told Zach and Vince about the stack of files I’d been assigned.

“That’s a good idea,” Zach said. “Try a bunch of different things and decide what you like to do.”

“Today, she’s into concrete,” Julie said. “Tomorrow, it may be condemnation actions. There’s nothing more thrilling than arguing the value of a piece of dirt.”

“If the state is involved in taking the property, you’ll be dealing with Ned Danforth at our firm,” Zach said. “He represents the state. Another law firm handles the county.”

“It’s a state case,” I replied.

“I’d like to condemn Ned and bury him beneath a thick piece of asphalt,” Julie said, sticking her knife in her steak for emphasis.

“Why are you mad at Ned?” Vince asked.

Julie put the back of her hand to her forehead. “The mention of his name makes me want to faint.” She turned to me. “Has the statute of limitations run out on my claim against the firm for harassment? Get me a memo on that first thing in the morning.”

Ned had bothered Julie on a sailboat outing the previous summer. She put him in his place in about five seconds, but it shook her up.

“If Ned did something wrong—,” Vince began.

“No, forget about it,” Julie said, removing the knife from her steak. “If Tami has to file a condemnation suit, I’d rather have Ned on the other side than someone smart. If he gets fired, the firm might assign those cases to one of you. That would be a fight to the death.”

Zach and Vince looked at each other, then at me, and shrugged. The waiter returned, and Julie refused a refill of red wine.

“I’m cutting back,” she said.

“Really?” I asked.

“Don’t get your hopes up. I’m driving home and don’t want to see the judge on a DUI ticket before I’m sworn in as a lawyer.”

As the meal progressed, I couldn’t sense any tension between Zach and Vince about me. Contrary to the story line of the few romance novels Mama allowed in the house, the two men didn’t seem bent on destroying each other in order to win me. The conversation turned to baseball.

“My father has season tickets in Atlanta,” Julie said. “I used to go when I was a little girl. He has great seats behind first base, but all I cared about was the hot dogs.”

“Wow,” both men said simultaneously.

Julie shook her head and turned to me. “Did you hear that? It’s so hard for men to have an original thought. The program running a man’s brain is like those early computers that read holes punched in cards.”

While we waited for the check, Julie phoned her father about the tickets. She listened for a moment and then gave Zach and Vince a thumbs-up sign.

“Thanks, Dad. Is it okay if I give Zach your e-mail address so you can make the arrangements directly with him?”

She listened for a moment. “Yes, he’s the admiralty lawyer with the cute ponytail. You know, the one I thought should wear a sailor suit to work.”

Zach rolled his eyes.

“You’ll meet all of them at the swearing-in ceremony. See you then.”

We topped off the meal with a single serving of a rich dessert that we shared in the middle of the table. It contained four different kinds of chocolate.

During the ride home from the restaurant, Zach and Vince started talking about baseball, and I felt like a spectator.

“Do you think we should try to find two more tickets so you and Julie could go?” Zach asked me.

“It wouldn’t be four in a row,” Vince said before I answered. “Who’d sit together?”

I braced for an argument about who would sit with me.

“I guess the guys and girls would have to separate once the game started,” Zach said.

Startled, I imagined myself next to Julie while she crammed hot dogs slathered in mustard into her mouth and washed them down with warm beer.

“I’m not that interested,” I responded. “And if Julie wanted to go she’d have told her father. He could probably get tickets from some of the people he sits next to on a regular basis.”

“Of course,” Vince said. “Why didn’t I think about that? Season ticket holders get to know one another. It turns the games into a social event.”

“You and Zach have a good time. Buy Julie a cheap souvenir. She’ll love it.”

Vince hopped out and opened the car door for me. As I walked up the steps to Mrs. Fairmont’s front door, I wondered what the two men would discuss after dropping me off. They seemed to have reached some kind of unspoken truce when it came to me. If so, I sure wish I could find out the terms of agreement.

A
COUPLE NIGHTS BEFORE THE SWEARING-IN CEREMONY,
M
RS.
Fairmont and I were sitting in the blue parlor after supper.

“The swearing-in ceremony for new lawyers is Thursday morning at ten o’clock,” I said, yawning.

“What time is your family going to get here?” she asked.

“They’re not coming.”

“If your family can’t come, then I will,” Mrs. Fairmont replied, sitting up straighter in her chair. “Someone should be there to support you and witness such an historic moment.”