After three pages of getting exactly nothing done, Rox started keeping an eye on Cash. He never exploded at other attorneys. His rants were reserved for the office where they were effective tools and amused Rox and where he and Rox could do something about the underlying problem.
However, on the third page, when Monty insisted that the production studio retaining autobiography rights was normal and customary, Cash’s negotiating slowed. He blinked languidly, his dark eyelashes fluttering over his emerald green eyes before he answered Monty’s attacks, and he leaned back in his chair. Bulges appeared at the sides of his square jaw as he chewed a pen.
Lawyers argue, yes, but they have a specific way that they argue.
If you can argue the law, then you argue the law.
If you can’t argue the law, then you argue the facts.
If you can’t argue the facts, then you just argue.
Monty was just arguing.
Something was terribly wrong.
Rox stood and announced, “I shall use the powder room, if you gentlemen will excuse me.”
Cash glanced up at her. They both had the bladders of camels and could negotiate for hours if needed. He told Monty, “We’ll take a break until she returns. Call for coffee, if you would be so kind. Rox, would you like some?”
“Yes, please,” she said and walked out of the room.
Monty still glared across the table at Cash as she left.
The admin showed Rox where the ladies’ room was, and Rox sat on the closed lid of the toilet and texted Cash, He’s not arguing law and he’s not arguing facts. He’s just arguing. Something is going on. Let’s go back to the office where we can get some dang work done.
Rox flushed the toilet and washed her hands, just in case anyone was listening and just anyway, and went back to the conference room.
Inside, Cash had zero expression on his face, his jaw tight, while he doodled on the contract. Monty dropped his pen on the contract like a falling missile, picked it up, and did it again.
Both had untouched cups of coffee in front of them, and another cup steamed in front of Rox’s chair.
They argued one more clause, and then Cash checked his phone. Rox saw over his shoulder that he was reading her text. He couldn’t have read it immediately, of course. That would have been too obvious: the paralegal goes to the bathroom and then the attorney receives a text. Doy.
Cash nodded. That was for her. He said, “The office has called us back. There’s a problem with one of Valerie’s other contracts. It seems that there is another negotiation that needs to be handled.”
Monty dropped the pen one more time and then glared at them. He waited, taking a slow breath, before he said, “Oh?”
“Absolutely,” Rox chimed in. “Our whole office is running itself ragged trying to deal with Valerie’s contracts. We may have to hire some temps.”
“You’re going to hire outside people?” Monty placed his spread hand over the contract.
“We may have to,” Rox nattered on, scooping the too-few pages of the document together. “Valerie has so many outstanding contracts. She’s such a whiz. She can just whip through them. The whole office is struggling, but she can’t come back for a while. The doctors are adamant, no matter how much she argues with them, and you know how Valerie can argue. Cash and I are working night and day, going through all her contracts.”
“You’re going to go through all of them,” Monty said. “All of them.”
“Oh, yes,” Cash said, watching the other lawyer closely. “We will review all of Valerie’s contracts, and we need to leave now for the office.”
Monty stared at the Watson contract. “Thank you for your time. I look forward to completing this negotiation. My admin will see you out.”
He stood and walked out, taking his notes with him.
Cash watched him go and pushed the last few pages of notes over to Rox. “Let’s go.”
“That was weird, don’t you think?” she asked him.
He turned and looked straight at her like he was trying to beam something directly into her head. “Let’s go.”
Okee-dokee, then.
Cash collected the portfolio case from her and carried it to his car in the parking garage. He was as conscientious about carrying bags for ladies as any Citadel cadet, and he reminded Rox of her cousin who had gone to college there, the gentlemanly one, more often than not.
Rox trotted. Cash had long, long legs, but he usually ambled so she could keep up. Now, though, he breezed through the garage, smacking his heels down on the cement, the hard footfalls from his dress shoes echoing off the concrete and cars.
At his car, Cash tossed the portfolio bag into the back seat as he slid behind the wheel, watching Rox over the top of the car as she hopped in the passenger side and closed her door.