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I am writing to inform you of the claimant’s motion to sue your business, Delirium, for liquor license mismanagement, inadequate working conditions, employee harassment, discrimination, fraudulent income and tax reports, and illegal activities performed on the premises.
These filings are serious, and the plaintiff, my client, intends to bring all those liable to court. He has requested a meeting to be moderated by the law offices of Cohen & Marks, LLP., for which you are requested to participate so that mediation may begin.
Please notify me as soon as possible to arrange a meeting time. If you are unable to attend due to personal circumstances or health-related concerns, please contact me to arrange accommodation. A meeting is required by April 27th to avoid the escalation of these claims to civil court. You may contact me between 9 a.m. and 5 p.m. Monday through Friday at the Cohen & Marks law offices, ext. 386.
Sincerely,
Billie Pearce, Esq.
Cohen & Marks
9746 First Avenue
Chicago, IL 60601
555-1364
Hitting send, I watched the little circle spin until I was sure the email was off to the defendant. I’d keep sending them, even calling him, as much as I had to until we could resolve this case adequately. Or, of course, I’d have to serve him. Either way, as long as I nailed this and made the client happy, the position as partner was as good as mine.
There was, unfortunately, one problem. I had a feeling Mr. Vadim didn’t give two shits about answering me, and that was going to keep me from getting my promotion.
“Ugh, fuck. What now?”
I leaned back in my creaky chair, putting my feet up on the desk, and then quickly realized I was putting them on the case folder. Slamming my feet back to the floor, I stared down at the manilla envelope. An idea brimmed at the back of my mind. It was a bit more ballsy than I liked to be, but this was partner we were talking about.
Just a little look-see. Just to see what’s going on over there.
Flipping the file open, I found Mr. Vadim’s home address listed and punched it into my GPS. It was only twenty-five minutes away. I could just pop over and come right back. I’d have plenty of time left to continue researching. Plus, the club manager had called about wanting a copy of the allegations, so I needed to drop that off as well.
“No problem. You can handle that. Two birds with one stone.”
Sure, the club and this guy’s house were in two opposite directions, but it was fine. It all needed to be done. Research for the case. Obligatory sharing of evidence.
I stood up and put the folder in my briefcase, snagging my keys from the top of my desk and heading for the door. I was down in my car and driving toward Delirium in less than five minutes.
***
After dropping the document copies off with Reuben Fisher, the club manager, I was absolutely starving. So, I got myself some fast food before heading to the defendant’s home address. My car, cramped and stuffy already, was filled with the scent of french fries.
But hey, a girl’s got to eat.
Pulling up to the large mansion near the outskirts of the metro area, I was genuinely shocked by how gorgeous the house was. It was a massive, French-style mansion, and a large semi-circle drive cut through the immaculate grounds in front of it. I didn’t pull up there. Instead, I parked just down the road so I could still see the house but be less conspicuous.
There was absolutely no activity at first, and I got through my entire chicken sandwich and fries before anything changed. Laying back across the seats, I nearly dozed when suddenly I heard gravel crunching under tires and shot up.
“About damn time.”
Looking through my passenger window as discreetly as possible, I watched a large black SUV pull up to the house. It stopped shy of right in front of the door, and after a moment, someone exited from the driver’s side. I couldn’t see who it was at first, but then the man came around to the back passenger door.
I used my phone’s camera to zoom in on him—the elusive Mr. Pietor Vadim. I wasn’t too far away, only thirty feet or so. He was incredibly tall, wearing a leather jacket and black jeans. From what I could see, he had very dark hair, possibly black, and a bit of stubble along his chin.
The man pulled something out of the backseat, and when he stood up again, he pushed his sunglasses onto his head. The gesture was beyond normal, yet…something about how he moved was animal, predatory. I squirmed in my seat, suddenly unable to push my eyes away from admiring the intimidating man.
I thought he had some facial piercings, and even from here, I could tell his eyes weren’t the same color. It was striking, and the obvious muscles behind his clothes were alluring.
“Holy shit.” My breathing sped up, and a light burning set up shop deep in my core. “He’s…gorgeous.”
I shook my head. It was entirely inappropriate to think of someone my client was suing as attractive, despite how objectively true that was. I couldn’t be interested in the guy. That was absurd!
