Love Proof (Laws of Attraction)

Thirty-five

“Hi, Ms. Henley. Ryan Sollers. Very nice to meet you.” Chapman’s replacement shook Sarah’s hand.

“‘Sarah’ is fine,” she said, taking in the upgrade in both manners and appearance of the new attorney. He looked more like a California surfer than a litigator, with his blond hair and a tan that looked like he earned it honestly out in the sun, rather than at a salon.

A court reporter Sarah had never seen was setting up. “I thought Marcela was with us this week.”

“She lost a crown over the weekend,” the woman said. “She had to get it fixed today. I’m Wendy. I’ll be here and in Seattle tomorrow.”

Sarah shook her hand. “Thanks for filling in.”

Joe entered the conference room along with his client, a young woman who looked like she was in her early 20s. Ryan stood up and introduced himself to both of them. He even shook the plaintiff’s hand, which Sarah had never seen Chapman do.

“Before we get started, Ms. Townsend,” Ryan said to the woman, “is there anything we can get you? Water, coffee?”

“No,” she answered nervously. “Thanks.” She looked at Joe as if seeking some reassurance that she’d given the right answer: We don’t take food or comfort from the enemy.

Joe smiled encouragingly. “Just speak up if you need anything,” he said, “all right?”

The young woman nodded.

“Well, let’s get started then, shall we?” Ryan said. “I promise I won’t take too much of your time today, Ms. Townsend. Just a few questions, then we’ll have you on your way.”

Sarah caught Joe’s eye and gave him a look that said, Not bad. So far this new lawyer was a vast improvement over Chapman.

While Ryan began his preliminary questions—“Please state your name, your date of birth, address,” etc.—Sarah booted up her laptop. Then she entered a search for “Ryan Sollers.”

Bachelor’s in Political Science from University of California, Berkeley, then law school at Stanford. Member of the law review. Twenty-eight years old, had been practicing law for three years.

Sarah looked over and noticed Joe reading something on his phone. She wondered if he was checking up on Sollers, too.

“Now,” Ryan said, “if you wouldn’t mind, Ms. Townsend—do you mind if I call you Amanda?”

“No,” she said, still sounding slightly nervous, “that’s fine.”

“Great, thanks. All right, Amanda, if you would, I’d like you to take me through a typical routine of straightening your hair. From wet to beautiful, just like it is right now. Can you do that for me?”

Sarah admired Ryan’s way with the plaintiff. He phrased everything as a request, not a demand. A “would you,” “can I,” “could you?” Lawyers like Paul Chapman were so heavy-handed, they ended up making people say as little as possible just to try to get by. But someone like Ryan Sollers could coax a lot more information from a witness by coming across as polite and curious, with a few humble and sincere-sounding apologies thrown in here and there.

The guy was good, Sarah thought. Especially for someone who’d only been at it for a few years.

She continued her search, looking for any information about cases he might have been involved in before. When she didn’t find anything right away, she realized she should stop focusing on her screen and instead listen to the testimony.

“So in between,” Ryan was saying, “when you’re unclipping the next section of hair and getting ready to straighten it, where do you usually put the hair iron?”

“You know, on the counter right next to me,” Amanda Townsend said.

“Give me a picture,” Ryan said, “if you don’t mind. What’s your bathroom counter made out of? Tile, or maybe a laminate of some kind—do you know?”

“Um . . . you know, it’s just this blue counter. It’s whatever came with my apartment.”

“Okay,” Ryan said, writing something down, “got it. Now, what do you usually have on your counter? Probably some makeup, your toothbrush—give me a picture, please.”

The young woman described the clutter of items on her counter.

“Great,” Ryan said. “Thank you. It sounds like there might not be much room there. Do you ever have a hand towel nearby? Or a washcloth?”

“Sometimes.”

The two of them went back and forth discussing in minute detail everything that might be on her counter on a typical day. It was starting to sound as boring as Chapman’s questions about a plaintiff’s educational history or where her parents were born.

But then one of Ryan’s questions had Sarah turning to her Internet search engine once again.

“Do you ever let the hair iron rest on a towel?”

“I don’t know, sometimes.”

“Do you remember if you did that the day it caught on fire?”

Sarah brought up the Atheena instruction manual. She quickly paged through to the warnings, and found the one she was looking for:

Never allow appliance to touch any fabric or other flammable materials.

She continued searching through the instructions for other clues about what Ryan was asking.

Do not place heated appliance directly on any surface while it is hot or plugged in.

Do not operate appliance where aerosol spray products are being used.

Keep away from cosmetics and hair products, as these may be flammable.

A whole list of warnings, and Ryan Sollers was covering them one by one, while pretending to have a conversation.

The guy was smooth.

By the time Ryan thanked Ms. Townsend again for her time and her patience, Sarah realized he’d already asked many of the questions she normally did. The only area left to cover was the frequency of use and the period of time the young woman had owned the product before it caught on fire.

It was only quarter to eleven when the deposition ended. They wouldn’t have another one until the afternoon.

“Pretty fast,” Sarah complimented Sollers while Joe and his client were out of the room.

“Well, there’s not that much to this, is there?” Ryan answered. “Shouldn’t take too long. I’ve been meaning to talk to you and Joe about that. I think we might want to revise the deposition schedule, now that I’m taking over.”

Joe came back into the room.

“I was just telling Sarah,” Ryan continued, “that I’d like to make some changes to the schedule. Mr. Chapman was . . . ”

Ryan turned to the court reporter. “Actually, Wendy, would you mind leaving us alone in here for a little while?”

“Oh,” she said, looking a little flustered. “Sure.”

“It’s nothing against you,” Ryan assured her. “I just have a few boring details to discuss with the other lawyers here, and I’m sure you’d rather take an early lunch break than be stuck in here with us.”

Wendy smiled. “Okay, sure. Thanks. I’ll be back at one.”

Ryan waited for her to leave before resuming. “Paul Chapman has a different philosophy about this case than I do,” he said. “I assume I can speak frankly?”

Sarah and Joe both nodded. Sarah resisted shooting Burke a look. What was Sollers up to?

“Let’s just say his case load isn’t as heavy as mine. Paul . . . well, he might be more in need of the billable hours than I am.”

Now Sarah and Joe did exchange a look. Normally lawyers didn’t talk about their colleagues to their opponents in a case.

“I’m not interested in spending five days a week flying to every podunk airport on the map,” Ryan said. “I have better things to do with my time, as I’m sure you do, too. So I’m prepared to cancel the current schedule and propose a new one where we only fly to cities with major airports, and only places where there are at least four plaintiffs in the area. I’m talking about Dallas, Atlanta, New York City. No more flying for six hours just to take one or two depositions in a small town. What a waste of time and money.”

“I agree,” Sarah said, relieved to find someone sane on the other side. “I don’t know if Chapman told you, but I was going to add some cities myself—”

“He did,” Ryan said. “That’s why I wanted to discuss it with you first, Sarah, before I did anything. And you, too, of course, Joe. I think we can make this a lot simpler for all of us.”

Sarah glanced at Joe again, and saw him regarding Ryan with an odd expression on his face. Was it suspicion? Wariness? She couldn’t quite read it.

“Let’s take a break now,” Ryan said, “and I’ll have my office e-mail me the proposed schedule over lunch. Does that sound all right?”

He smiled at both of them. Sarah noticed Joe did not return the smile.

“Now,” Ryan said, standing, “Sarah, can I buy you lunch? Sorry, Joe, defense side only.”

“Sure,” Joe said, “no problem.” But something about his tone didn’t sound right to Sarah. Something was up.

“Sarah, I understand you’re a vegetarian?” Ryan asked, moving now toward the door. He held it open for her while she took her time putting her laptop away. She continued wondering if Joe was trying to send her a signal of some kind, or if he just didn’t particularly like Sollers.

“I am,” she said. “Where’d you hear that?”

Ryan smiled. “I always do my homework. We’ll see you at one,” he told Joe as they finally left the room.

“Sushi all right?” Ryan asked. “I noticed there’s a place nearby. I used to date a vegetarian girl. Sushi was always our compromise, since we could both get what we wanted.”

“Sure,” Sarah said. “Fine.”

But she was still distracted by Joe’s reaction. Did he think Ryan was hitting on her—was that it? He had to know Ryan was no threat. But men could get strange ideas sometimes, Sarah thought, and maybe Joe still wasn’t feeling secure enough about where she stood. She’d have to make herself crystal clear next time they were alone together. Just the thought of it made her have to hide a smile.

They had been so domestic that morning, both of them getting ready for the workday, Joe shaving next to her at the sink while Sarah went through the process of straightening her hair once again, since he had showered it back to kinky the night before.

“I don’t know how you can still use that,” he’d said, shaking his head at the Atheena in her hand.

“I bought mine three years ago,” Sarah said. “There’s no danger.”

But then she realized she’d already said too much. Granted, he was leaving the case in just two days, and even his replacement would find out about her strategy eventually, but Sarah knew better than to tip her hand this early. The man standing next to her in the bathroom wasn’t her lover at that moment, he was still her opponent. And Sarah had no desire to violate the rules of the game.

In fact, in a way, it made it more fun to know that months would go by before he would ever hear about what she came up with. She relished the idea of springing it on him one night after work, announcing that she’d gotten Mason Manufacturing dismissed from the case. That would be worth a celebration or two.

“This place look all right?” Ryan asked her as they approached the small restaurant.

“Sure,” she said. “Fine.”

She checked off her selections on the order card, choosing an avocado roll and another with fried tofu. Ryan handed both cards to the server, then motioned toward the tables.

“You choose,” he said, then he rested his hand lightly against Sarah’s back as she passed him.

She took a longer stride to move out of range of his touch. Maybe Joe’s suspicions were right.

“So,” she said, adopting her most professional tone as Ryan slipped into the booth across from her. “How’d you end up with this assignment? I can’t imagine you volunteered.”

“Oh, you know,” he said modestly, “low man on the pole. I do what I’m told.”

Sarah took in the confident posture and smooth easiness of the man across from her. “Somehow I doubt that,” she said.

Ryan shrugged. “Never say no when another lawyer asks you for a favor. There’ll always come a time when they have to pay you back.”

That sounded more like it, Sarah thought. A young lawyer with a clear vision of what he needed to do to get ahead. She could certainly understand that.

“So, I assume you did your homework, too,” Ryan said.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you typing away. I assume it wasn’t a letter home. What did you find out?”

Sarah saw no reason to lie. She gave him the brief history she’d uncovered.

“Did you get to the track scholarship?” Ryan asked.

“No.”

Ryan nodded. “Ran my way into UC Berkeley. But once the coaches and I agreed I probably wasn’t the next great 800-meter Olympian, I started looking around for something less competitive.”

“So of course you chose law,” Sarah said.

“Naturally. How about you? Graduated from high school in only three years, got your insurance agent’s license at eighteen, so I’m guessing you worked your way through college, probably a combination of savings and maybe academic scholarship to pay for law school—what am I missing?”

Sarah laughed. “Well, you really did do your homework. The insurance agent thing—that had to be hard to find. I don’t think anybody knows about that anymore.”

“Just have to know where to look,” Ryan said.

Their lunches arrived, and both spent some time mixing wasabi and soy sauce and otherwise tending to their plates. But finally when they had both downed a few rolls, Ryan looked across the booth at her again.

“You’re very pretty. That must be a hazard.”

“How so?” Sarah asked, her voice decidedly chillier than before.

Ryan smiled. “It’s still a man’s game, isn’t it? Even though I heard law schools are admitting about fifty-fifty, you still don’t see that many females in the top spots. Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know, Ryan, why do you think it is?” Sarah hated discussions like this—as if she were expected to account for the success, or lack thereof, of every other woman lawyer.

“It’ll happen,” Ryan said. “Old institutions are slow. Look at politics—it’s taken forever for the women to catch up. And it’s not because they’re not capable—obviously they are.”

Saying what people want to hear? Sarah thought. Check. Clearly the guy was skilled at reading his audience and feeding it all the right lines. He was no amateur at manipulation.

Which made Sarah wonder what was behind this lunch in the first place.

“So,” she said, “is this just a friendly get-to-know-you, or is there something else I should know?”

“Sarah,” Ryan answered, clicking his tongue. “So suspicious. What if I’m just the new kid in school, trying to make friends on the playground?”

“We may both be on the defense side,” Sarah said, “but we’re opponents. I’m afraid friendship won’t take you very far.”

“Really? Too bad.” He smiled in an easy, casual way, and there was nothing about it that should have made her uncomfortable, but it did. She felt the same way she thought Joe might: wary.

When the bill came, Ryan snatched it up before Sarah could lay a fingerprint on it. “I offered,” Ryan reminded her. “You can get the next one.”

“I think it’s best if we all pay for our own,” she said. “Keeps things cleaner.”

“Just this once, then,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell.”

They walked back the few blocks to the hotel. The day was cloudy and cold. Sarah was grateful she’d dressed warmly.

“Which flight are you on tonight?” Ryan asked as he held the lobby door open for her.

“The five-forty.”

“Too bad,” he said. “I’m on the six-fifteen. Oh, well, we all end up in the same place. Maybe I can buy you dinner.”

“I don’t think so,” she answered.

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

Sarah stopped walking and faced him. “Look, Ryan,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I don’t want to make any assumptions here, but just in case you thought there might be any kind of . . . personal interaction between us . . . ”

“I’d never think that,” Ryan answered. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—” He laughed. “Sarah, I meant what I said: I think you’re a beautiful woman. There’s nothing wrong with being friendly. But I’d never pursue you while this case is going on—we both know that’s wrong. And I assume you wouldn’t try anything with me. But we also both know that these cases don’t last forever. There’s always an afterward.”

Sarah patted his chest. “Thanks, Sollers, but I’m afraid the answer’s always going to be no.”

Ryan shrugged good-naturedly. “Like I said, just being friendly. See you in there, Sarah.”

“Right.” She made a detour toward the bathroom before heading for the conference room again. She needed a few minutes alone.

The guy unnerved her—she couldn’t exactly say why. She’d been hit on plenty of times, but there was something about how he did it, the things he said.

Sollers seemed smart. She doubted he said or did anything without thinking it through first.

So what was his game?