Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Unsure of how to respond, I choose not to, sitting back in the chair. My knee bounces from the nerves returning because Troy keeps his eyes on me.
“So, here, we typically only handle civil disputes. It’s best if we stay within that realm. Are you okay with that?”
Do I have a choice?
“Yes.”
“Have you ever worked a case on your own?”
I hesitate, my face heating up. “No, I haven’t. Mr. Hudson informed me that he didn’t give me any casework because of who I am. Well, who he thought I might be.”
“Typical,” Troy scoffs. “He can be like that. He’s all about maintaining his squeaky-clean image. He’s a great defense attorney, though. However, we’ve yet to get him in our pocket.”
Lovely.
“I suppose he wasn’t willing to keep you working there for that reason? He’s handling my assistant’s, well, ex-assistant’s, case. Someone snitched and got him arrested. Thankfully, all his charges are outside of my business dealings. I don’t think they’ll stick, regardless.”
“Okay,” I say, thinking of the man. “His name is Nick Clemons, right?”
He nods, his lips curling upward. “So, have you seen his case file?”
“Yes, I briefly viewed it before I was… fired.”
“I prefer to say let go,” Troy muses, leaning back in his chair. “Anyway, I’m taking care of that. I need you to go over a pending case. It’s simple. My—our—client is a landlord suing for the unpaid rent. You think you can handle that?”
“Of course,” I say, feeling somewhat eager.
“It should be easy. Mrs. Fernado has all her paperwork in order.” He opens one of his desk drawers and digs out a file. “Here,” he says, holding it out to me. “I want you to get started on this today.”
I take it from him and then hesitate. “In here?”
“Your office is across the hall.”
“At any point are we going to discuss…” My voice trails off as I think of my dad.
“Not today, Liz,” he says, giving me what appears to be a sympathetic smile. “Let’s just take this one step at a time. I’m paying you to take care of some of the backlog, not to take history lessons. You really ought to chat with your father about that.”
“You’re free to go,” Gloria says as she pokes her head into my office at nearly six o’clock. “Mr. Watkins will see you tomorrow.”
I pull my eyes away from the case I’ve gotten lost in. Honestly, it’s not so cut and dry. Also, the tenant is countersuing for having to make major repairs himself. “Has he left already?” I don’t hide the surprise. I haven’t seen Troy since he sent me to my office.
“He left about three hours ago for meetings. Philip and Gerard are waiting for you.”
Of course, they are.
“Thanks,” I say, closing the file and shoving it into my bag. The office Troy gave me is bare, but it’s got a great view of the city, though I haven’t had a chance to take advantage of it with my face in my file. “I’m sorry if I caused you to work later than usual.”
“Oh, no problem,” she dismisses me with a wave and smile. “Half the time, I have nothing better to do.”
I gather my things and head out of my office, shutting the door behind me. “Sorry,” I say to Gerard and Philip, who look insufferably bored as I enter the waiting room. With Troy here, the guys get a break, well, sort of. They spend most of their time outside, casing the area or doing whatever Troy tells them to do.
“Working hard, I guess.” Philip cracks a joke and then yawns. “Can I get food or something on the way back? I’m fuck’in starving.”
“Oh, and your old man called,” Gerard chimes in as he holds the door open for me. “He wants to get dinner tonight.”
I sigh, unsurprised that Dad has gone around me to make plans. “Tell him that’s fine. I’ll meet him for dinner tonight.”
They both look surprised, exchanging glances with each other. I ignore it, stepping out onto the street and taking a deep breath. The city has a certain charm about it this time of year. Autumn isn’t far off, and the cool evening breeze is more than welcome.
Philip, the taller, bulkier of my two bodyguards, opens the door for me. “Here ya go.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, glancing behind the SUV just in time to notice someone in a black hoodie slip into an alley. “Um…”
“Um, what?” Philip asks.
“I think I might have seen someone.”
“Well, you do live in New York City,” he cracks, chuckling. “Come on. Let’s go.”
I nod, glancing at the alley and then climbing inside. He shuts the door and climbs into the passenger seat. Gerard navigates the SUV away from the curb and into traffic, but something doesn’t feel right in my stomach.
I crane my neck to look behind us. Sure enough, the man I saw slip into the alley is now leaning out just enough to do what I think is take pictures of the back of the SUV.