Page 87 of Dirty Lawyer


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“Yeah. And fuck, I forget how tall you are. I guess there’s a reason you played basketball.”

He laughs. “Because I could walk it to the hoop.” He shuts the door and joins me. “I wish I was still living the NBA life right now.”

“I scanned the file,” I say. “Nothing more yet.”

“I get it. That was a big case you just won. Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks,” I say. “He was innocent. He deserved that ruling.”

“So am I.”

“Tell me the story.”

“I invested in this company that basically does investing. It seemed brilliant at the time, as do all stupid moves. Now they’re being investigated for securities fraud. The principal is a guy named Larry Kurt. Good guy, I thought. Law degree from Yale. How could I go wrong, right? Next thing I know, the Feds are knocking on my door.”

I believe him. “I bought you two weeks for me to research and prep a response,” I say. “My team is going to research and prove you should be removed from this investigation.”

“Two weeks?” he asks. “That’s forever. I want this over.”

“I get it, but it’s better to respond right, not quickly.”

We talk through a few important details and then I send him on his way. I buzz Nate’s office. “I need to know everything about every principal in that company, down to what time they go to the bathroom. Take the files home. Get to work.” He agrees, and I dial a partner who is damn good at corporate law, chat through the case, and form a game plan. He’ll take over a portion of the case.

By the time I’ve gone back and forth with him and called my client to update him, it’s already five. I’m meeting Cat in only a few hours. I decide to haul my stack of random case files home and work from there.

Thirty minutes later, I walk into my house, and holy fuck. It’s empty. It’s really damn empty without Cat. I walk to my home office and sit down, trying to work. I do work, but I’m aware of her not being here every moment. I glance at my watch, and it’s time for me to go shower, and it has to be time for her to meet her brothers, which means she’s likely stressed. I have half a mind to go over there, but I overstepped with the book deal. I won’t do that again.

Cat

I dress in a burgundy pencil dress with long sleeves and a V-neck that I pair with black heels with sexy silk wraparound straps at my ankles. I then change into a simple black dress with a flared skirt and snug waist. I am, after all, seeing my brothers before Reese, and they will ask a million questions about my plans. I leave my hair loose and flat-iron it. My makeup is a bit more dramatic for evening, but still soft. I exit the bathroom for the bedroom door and turn back around. What am I doing? I see my brothers and I’m going to change clothes to avoid their questions? No. I just won’t answer their questions. Period. I put the burgundy dress back on.

At seven forty-five, I’ve finished a glass of wine. I don’t drink well, but I have to survive my brothers. My doorbell rings, and I consider another drink but decide to forgo it. I head to the door and open it. Sure enough, there stand my two big, blond, gorgeous, arrogant brothers. Reid, as the oldest, has a few age lines and a few extra inches on Gabe, but otherwise, they are twinkies, and both twinkies are looking me up and down. “Who is he?” Reid asks.

“You haven’t spoken to me in months,” I say. “And that is the first thing you say to me? The answer is none of your business. To the kitchen,” I add, and turn and walk away.

I get there and pour that wine, of course. I need it. The two of them are in jeans and T-shirts which always seems off for them. Sometimes I think they sleep in three thousand dollar suit-pajamas. I consider saying that. I don’t think they will be amused but I am. Gabe sets a bottle of some whiskey on the counter I won’t drink. I don’t look at it, but rather just stand on the opposite side of the island from them. The whole me-against-them thing.

“You look too good,” Gabe says. “I don’t like it.”

“You both really need to not speak,” I say.

“Your column’s good, Cat,” Reid says. “The kind of good it wouldn’t be if you weren’t a damn good Harvard graduate attorney. You should be practicing.”

“Do you know, Reid, where you are standing? You are standing in the house that Mom came to get away from men who tried to rule her life. And our father, who fucked around on her all of the time.”

“Mom didn’t want to get away from Dad,” Reid snaps.

“No? Stay right there.” I walk to my office and return with the letter Mom wrote to me, which I’ve never let them read. I set it in front of them.

“What is that?” Gabe asks.

“The letter Mom wrote me before she died.”

“I’m not reading that,” Reid says sharply.

Gabe picks it up and starts reading, and it’s not long before he’s walking to the living room to be alone. Reid focuses on me. “We need a criminal attorney in the firm.”

“Then hire one.”

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