“Claire. He’s our client. Assholes have the right to defend themselves too. You and I both know a settlement would be in his best interests, but he’s been clear from the start that he’d rather lose than negotiate. We’ll do our best, and hopefully figure something out to make everyone at least sort of happy. It’s how the system works.” I can’t believe I’m telling her to calm down when I want to beat his face in for what he just said about her.
Being the mature one sucks.
She growls in frustration. “I’ve tried to see your side of it, but I can’t. Fighting people like him is exactly why I wanted to become an attorney in the first place.”
Now that she’s told me a little about her dad, her career choice seems obvious. Pissing her off enough to make her quit—and hopefully take mommy dearest with her—seems like it would be in my best interests, but I don’t actually want to do it. She’s smart, funny, and from what I’ve seen so far, will probably make a damn good lawyer.
I love making her angry, but not like this. This is fucked up.
“Listen, I can’t just kick him out. They’ve hired us, and as a company we’ve taken on the assignment. If you don’t get that, you’ll never make it far enough in the business to get to do what you want.” She’s got to understand that, right? That this isn’t about what I believe in, it’s a job.
She plops into one of the black leather chairs, fuming. “This sucks.”
I nod in agreement. “There are hundreds of these cases every year. You’re not going to be able to save all of them.” I want to stuff the words back in my mouth when I see the horrified look on her face. “I don’t mean we do hundreds of these, I mean the court system in general. No matter where you go, things like this are going to happen. See it as a chance to learn. How are you going to know how to fight back if you don’t know how these people operate under the hood? It’s an opportunity.”
She looks at me strangely. “You sound like my mother.”
“Jesus Christ.” I rub my face with my hands. “You can do this. And when you’ve got your own thing going, you’re going to be bringing these fuckers down left, right and center. They’ll crash and burn, and it’ll be all you. Claire ‘The Badass’ Anderson.”
“That’s a really crappy nickname.” Her face softens for a moment. “But for being an asshole, you say some nice things sometimes.” She takes a deep breath and pulls herself back together. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
“Good, but just for the record.” I open the door for her. “If he makes another comment about where I should stick my dick? I’m going to teach him a lesson about keeping his mouth shut.”
Claire laughs. “My hero.”
“I’ll find a way for you to thank me later.” I grin at the playful punch she lands on my arm.
The first thing I notice when we get back to the room is the acrid smell of cigar smoke. Oh fucking hell. “Mr. Cooper, I’m afraid there’s no smoking in this building.”
He looks up, his eyes going wide, like a schoolkid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. With a practiced motion, he grabs a sheet of paper from his documentation, folds it up tightly into a little cup and then quickly stumps his cigar in it. Miraculously, it doesn’t catch. He at least has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Sorry. It was just for a moment.”
I sigh. The cigar is probably the least offensive thing he’s done all day and that’s what he apologizes for. Let’s get this over with. Claire takes the chair next to me. Her eyes are tight, but she’s shutting up, and that’s all I ask right now.
“That was quick. A pretty thing like her, I suppose I wouldn’t take long either.” Cooper indicates Claire with a nod of his head.
I look him right in the eyes, which are practically glowing with what he’s imagining Claire doing. “Ms. Anderson is a trusted employee of this firm and she is assisting me in this case. We’re going to do our best to ensure a favorable outcome for you and your company, Mr. Cooper, but if you make another comment like that again, I’m going to break your face. Do we understand each other?”
Dad’s going to fucking kill me, but I have my limits.
Cooper recoils like I’ve already hit him. “Jesus fuck. Is this how you treat all your customers? One of you insults me, then the other threatens me? What is this shit?”
He’s such a caricature of a sleazy businessman that I find it hard not to laugh.
“Sir, I’m only asking for a minimum of respect. Quite frankly, given your situation, you are lucky we’re willing to work with you. There will be no more outbursts from Ms. Anderson, and I apologize for those, but we’re all professionals here and we expect to be treated as such. You respect us, we respect you. Otherwise... I become unhappy. Alright?”