In Your Corner
Page 23

 Sarah Castille

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“Yeah.” The fighters punch their fists in the air and cheer as one.
“Uh…Jake.” Aside from the fact I have no law firm and no insurance, I haven’t even agreed to take on the fighters as clients. But Jake is on a roll.
“She’ll put you on the stand and carve out every last detail of your sordid lives until you’re a quivering mess on the floor.”
“Yeah,” chant the fighters.
“She’ll rack up your legal bill so high you’ll wish you’d run screaming the night she walked into your bar. She’ll run that case into the ground until you crawl in here begging for mercy.”
“Yeah.” The fighters whoop and cheer like we’ve already won the case.
“Jake…”
“’Manda, ’manda, ’manda.” Rampage starts up his humiliating chant and then glares at Bob and the bouncer. “We got ’manda. You got nothin’. Now GIT.”
They “git.”
Jake watches them for all of two seconds and then turns to Fuzzy. “Man sees his girl being roughed up in his place of relaxation, sees someone dragging her around by her hair…that considered provocation?”
His girl? “Don’t answer that,” I bark at Fuzzy. He and Jake share a look and then Jake snorts.
“Thought so.”
The door opens. Slams. Jake is gone. Rampage with him. And Obsidian.
I collapse onto the couch and slap my hand to my forehead. “They’re going to get hit with a real lawsuit if they actually break any arms. I’m pretty sure those two were faking their injuries.”
“But even if they weren’t, you’ll get us out of it, won’t you?” Homicide takes a seat beside me. “I mean, me and the wife got a baby on the way. I can’t afford a big shot attorney and I sure as heck can’t afford ten million dollars. None of us can.”
“Don’t worry.” I try to calm the agitated fighters around me. “It’s a totally bogus lawsuit.”
“But what if it isn’t? What if they do find a good attorney? You gotta do something, Amanda.” Blade Saw’s voice rises as he flips through the documents. “You have to take our case…”
The front door slams behind us and a brush of cold air sends a shiver down my spine. I cut Blade Saw off mid-rant. “I quit my job. And I’ve been blacklisted. No firm will hire me.”
“So start your own firm. You always talked about it.” Jake walks toward us, all cool and calm as if he didn’t just chase after two lunatics and probably beat them to death.
My own firm? How many billable hours did I waste daydreaming about my own firm while at Farnsworth & Tillman? A firm where we would have time for pro bono cases. A firm where the staff wouldn’t wear flight-attendant style uniforms. My employees wouldn’t live to serve. No shrimp at the firm cafeteria. No cameras in the hallways. No glass walls. No sleeping pods. No logos shouting FAT FAT FAT.
No money.
All my savings have gone toward my student loans. My only asset of value is my grandmother’s house. Not something I would ever sell. The dream will have to stay a dream. Revenge will definitely be a dish served cold.
“Did you break any bones in the thirty seconds you’ve been gone?” My facetious tone gains me a couple of raised eyebrows.
“He hurt you.”
My hand flies to my mouth, and I shoot out of my seat. “Please tell me you’re kidding. The bouncer just tugged my ponytail. It was no big deal.”
Jake cups my jaw and brushes his thumb over my cheek. “It was a big deal to me.”
My fingers hover over his bicep, bulging from beneath the sleeve of his shirt and a thrill of fear races through me. “Did you…really? That fast?”
He catches my hand, pressing his lips to my knuckles, and my body throbs in response to his touch.
“One of them got away. The other got so scared he pissed himself five feet out the door, then passed out. No point breaking bones if he can’t feel the pain.”
I lift an eyebrow in mock reproach. “Of course.”
Jake laughs and releases my hand. “So, your own firm…you’ll need capital. You can ask Max…er Torment. I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you, and if not, Doc and I can twist his arm.”
“He’s a venture capitalist, not a bank,” I say softly. “This is the kind of thing banks do.”
Jake shrugs. “So he’ll invest in your firm and take a return when you earn money. Same as investing in any business. I’ll talk to Doc and get the best time to set something up.”
“Whoa!” I hold up my hands. “First of all, she’s my best friend. If anyone talks to her, it will be me. And second, I haven’t said I would do it.”
“Look at their pathetic faces.” Jake gestures to the assembled fighters. On cue they all affect sad expressions, mouths turned down, brows furrowed.
My lips quiver with a repressed smile. “They couldn’t look pathetic if they tried.”
“They can’t afford big law firm fees,” Jake continues. “They stuck out their necks for you. Don’t you want to get back to doing what you do best but the way you want to do it?”
“I never said…” But I cut myself off. My life has been one goalpost after another. I’ve never stopped to think about what I really wanted. Maybe it’s time I did. I don’t have to follow the family tradition and become a partner at a big law firm at the age of thirty-two. I could run my own firm. I could help people with their problems instead of helping companies shuffle their money around. I could start a lawsuit against Farnsworth, put him in his place, and repair my reputation. How could my father not be proud?