Love Proof (Laws of Attraction)

Forty

Everybody loves a parade, Sarah thought, scrolling through the photos on the Web. Lawyers in their fancy suits, hands cuffed behind their backs, beefy law enforcement officers holding them by the elbows as they endured the gauntlet of media and sneering bystanders.

The head partners, Milton and Feinberg, had been first, but now there were more lawyers from the firm indicted every day, it seemed. More white-collar criminals for the perp walk. The news outlets loved it.

The optometrist, his family, and a whole collection of other professional plaintiffs had been arrested, too. Mickey was right: Mr. Fitzgerald of the U.S. Attorney’s Office was giving himself a very large early Christmas present indeed.

“Anything new?” Joe asked, joining Sarah in her kitchen. His hair was still wet from the shower.

“Not really.” She handed him a cup of coffee. He had brought his own brewer over when it became clear they both liked spending the night at her apartment more than his.

Joe set the coffee down and gathered Sarah into his arms.

“Mm, you smell good,” she said.

“You, too. What time’s your interview?”

“Nine.”

Joe checked the clock. “Too bad.”

Sarah smiled. It was so much nicer being unemployed with Joe around this time. Even though she knew either of them would have been happy to trade their current hours of leisure for the stress of a billable workweek again.

“I might have something later today,” Joe said.

“Oh, yeah?”

He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

She’d gotten used to Joe’s reluctance to talk about any of his prospects ahead of time. Maybe he was superstitious, Sarah thought. Or maybe he didn’t want to get her hopes up.

It had only been two and a half weeks since their return. That wasn’t much time, she reminded herself. Plus Christmas was just a few days away now, and then it was the end of the year, so people weren’t really hiring . . .

She could make excuses all day. And sometimes she did. Anything to keep the panic at bay.

They hadn’t really talked about money, and she didn’t intend to yet. She had already set aside her rent payment for January, and she had enough, if she kept her expenses close to the bone, to last her through at least March. Probably.

She knew Joe wouldn’t hesitate to pitch in. All she had to do was ask. Or maybe he might offer once the idea occurred to him. But Sarah still had hopes it wouldn’t come to that. She had never asked for help before, and she didn’t intend to start now.

“I have to get dressed,” she said, heading for the bedroom.

“Great. I’ll come watch.”

***

The morning after her return from Seattle, Sarah had done as Calvin asked and made an appointment to see him.

He was brief and to the point.

“How much damage have you done?”

“In what way?” Sarah asked him. She could feel his tightly-controlled anger, but she had some of it herself. Mickey was in the room.

“He means how much did you give away while Burke was going down on you?”

Calvin shot him a glare. “Get out of here, Hughes. I’ll talk to her myself.”

Mickey got up with a smirk, as if he’d been expecting that. As if all he wanted was just to get a jab or two in, then he would happily walk away.

“See you, Sarah. Hope it’s the last time.”

Then he stalked out the door.

Sarah took a breath and tried to seem calm. She turned back to Calvin. “I never told him anything. I’ve always been very careful to protect the interests of our client.”

“Except when you decided to f*ck the other attorney.” Calvin held up his hand before she could answer. “It’s done. What I need to know is whether I have to tell Mason about this, or whether it gets to stay our dirty secret.”

Sarah hated agreeing with the way he put it, but there was no use arguing. “I think it can stay our secret.” Calvin might not believe her, but she knew she’d done absolutely nothing to harm their client’s case.

Other than put herself in the position of having to resign. But she hoped the lengthy, detailed exit memo she sent Calvin and the associates gave them all enough information to see the defense through to the end.

“You might not want this,” Sarah said, “but I’m still willing to consult on the case. For free.”

“You’re right,” Calvin said. “I don’t want that. And by the way, your last two weeks are for free. I’m not paying you for your little sexcapade.”

Sarah nodded stiffly. She hadn’t expected that, but there was nothing she could do. Or more accurately, nothing she would do. She understood the need to punish people and exact some revenge. She wouldn’t be hypocritical about it now.

Calvin dismissed her with a flick of his hand. It was humiliating, especially since the last time she had been with him, he offered her such high praise—not to mention a job. But Sarah understood that all of this was the price she had to pay.

And she still thought she’d gotten the better side of the bargain.

When she returned home that afternoon, Joe was waiting for her, sitting on her couch wearing sweats and a T-shirt, working on his laptop. He looked up as she came in, then shifted over and held out an inviting arm. She plopped down next to him, laid her head on his shoulder, and let out a big sigh.

“So it went well,” he guessed.

“Fantastic.” Sarah filled him in on the details.

“He probably can’t do that about your pay,” Joe said.

“Yes, he can. He can do whatever he wants. It’s over.”

She kicked off her pumps and curled her legs up next to Joe. She wanted to change out of her suit into something more comfortable, but Joe’s arm was too comfortable to leave.

Sarah glanced at the laptop open on the table next to the couch. “What are you working on?”

“Fitzgerald had some questions,” Joe said. “Other people in the firm are turning already, and he wants to verify their stories.”

Sarah kept forgetting that in the midst of their other troubles, Joe still had responsibilities as Fitzgerald’s star witness.

“Does anyone know about you yet?”

“Seems so,” Joe said. “There was some teaser about it on one of the law blogs—‘Which insider blew the whistle?’ They described me as a five-year associate on the partner track, who worked directly with Milton on the most recent case. I’d say that narrows the field.”

“And then what?” Sarah asked.

“Then people either think I’m a hero or a trouble-maker. And since we both know no firm is completely clean, I’m guessing trouble-maker is what’s going to stick. Not really expecting many job interviews once the news hits.”

Sarah groaned, then snuggled deeper against him.

“But we’re okay, right?” she asked.

He gave her a squeeze. “Yep.”

“And we don’t’ regret any of it, right?”

“I don’t,” Joe said, “do you?”

Sarah angled her face toward him so she could press a kiss to his warm lips. “Just you and me against the world, Burke.”

“Then I’d say our odds are good.”

***

Sarah waited in the law firm lobby for her nine o’clock interview, taking in her surroundings. The office was nice, but not plush. The receptionist behind the counter was dressed professionally, not cheaply. That mattered to Sarah.

Whenever she went to another attorney’s office for a negotiation, she always took note of the receptionist first. If it was a man, she assumed the lawyers in the firm were open-minded and flexible, and would be willing to make a deal that was advantageous to both sides.

If the receptionist was a woman, Sarah looked at her outfit. She knew it was probably a stereotype, but she always assumed if she could see too much cleavage, the attorneys in the firm didn’t respect women. If they did, someone would have taken the employee aside long ago and given her the same kind of speech Sarah gave women at her previous firm.

“You might be the smartest person in the room,” she told one new associate who had come into work for the second day in a row flashing a considerable amount of boob, “but if you dress like that, everyone’s going to assume you’re stupid. I know,” she said before the blushing associate could answer, “it’s not fair, it’s not true, but I’m just telling you, based on my experience, that’s how people are.”

“But . . . ” The young woman cleared her throat. Sarah worried she might cry. But instead the associate drew herself up as if ready to take Sarah on, and answered in a steady voice. “I like to dress this way. I think women can be both feminine and strong. I disagree that I won’t be taken seriously.”

“Okay,” Sarah said cordially. “I just wanted to give you the benefit of my experience. Good luck.”

It took a full month before the young woman appeared in her office again one day and closed the door behind her.

“Okay,” she said, slumping into the chair on the other side of Sarah’s desk. “I think you’re right.”

“What happened?”

The associate grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Judge Walters.”

“Oh,” Sarah said, understanding everything. “Right.”

The associate folded her arms across her still overexposed chest. “He called me back in chambers this morning after my hearing.”

“And said . . . ” Sarah prompted.

The associate looked behind her to make sure the door was really closed. Then she repeated a line Sarah had heard before. “‘I can’t wait to get into your pants.’”

“Yep. Old Walters.”

The associate shook her head in disgust. “This was after he ruled against me, you understand.”

“Of course,” Sarah said. “He thinks you’re stupid. He thinks I am, too,” she hastened to say. “All women. But you know what I always tell myself when I’m in his courtroom? ‘At least the creep doesn’t get to look at my boobs while he’s thinking that.’”

The associate nodded. “Got it.” She stood up to go.

“Sorry,” Sarah said. “I agree with you: women can be both sexy and smart.”

“I think I said ‘feminine and strong.’”

“Those, too.”

“Sorry if I was rude before,” the young woman said.

“You weren’t, and it’s fine,” Sarah answered. “Always happy to help a colleague.”

And after that, the associate started dressing almost exactly like Sarah. Showing a little leg, fine. Cleavage, no.

“Miss Henley?” the receptionist said. “I’ll show you back now.”

She stood up from the desk, and Sarah could see more of her outfit: skirt barely covering the booty. Breasts spilling out of her low-cut top.

“How long have you worked here?” Sarah asked conversationally.

“Little over a year,” the receptionist answered.

Sarah could already tell the interviewers weren’t going to like her.