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"That's just the way the cookie crumbles, Skye. They will make good on any products that they've created that have harmed people." I shrug. "Please go and inform Mr. Estes that I'm not available to talk to him and that he should do some research for tortious firms that would be interested in taking a case like this."
"You're not even going to tell him yourself? You don't think you owe him that courtesy?"
"I'm a busy man, Skye, and I have a lot of work this afternoon." I blink at her. "Is that all?"
She stares at me for a couple of seconds after I dismiss her then shakes her head. "You're such a jackass," she says under her breath.
"What did you just say?" I stand up.
"Nothing, sir," she says, rolling her eyes and leaving my office, slamming the door shut behind her.
"I guess I have to plan a really good fun night tomorrow," I say under my breath.
I know that she doesn’t understand why I’m unable to take the case, or rather, she does understand, but she doesn’t agree with it morally. She doesn’t understand that when it comes to the law, morals have nothing to do with it.
I sigh. That's not your problem, Kingston. I lick my lips and sit back down again, pulling up the travel website and searching flights to Paris. I sit back, smiling, wondering what she would say if I did fly her out to Paris for the weekend so that we could stroll arm in arm down the Champs-Élysées, eating chocolate croissants and drinking espressos in the City of Love.
Maybe we take a boat ride down the Seine, then go for dinner and feast on escargot and bone marrow before taking her back to a palatial room where we'd make love all night long. The thought seems ridiculous. There's no way in Hell a friend with benefits or a boss with benefits would plan such a romantic, delightful date, especially as it wasn't even meant to be a date.
I take a deep breath and exit the site. As much fun as it would be, I'm not flying her to Paris. I don't want her to get any ideas.
My email screen pops up with a new notification and I click on it. I see I have an email from Skye so I open it quickly and read.
"Dear Mr. Chase,
I just wanted you to know that you are a horrible lawyer. You have no qualms about taking advantage of the little people and you make me ashamed to even work for you. I hope that you are able to sleep well tonight knowing that you're giving another win to the corporations of the world that take advantage of people like me."
I stare at her email and roll my eyes before hitting respond.
"Dear Ms. Redding,
Thank you so much for your email. I'm not really sure how you want me to respond to this, so instead I will attach a copy of my recent bank statement, and yes, it is seven figures, and yes, I will sleep well tonight. Have a good evening."
The reply comes almost instantaneously.
"Dear Mr. Chase,
I think it's obnoxious of you to send me a copy of a bank statement showing you have over $5 million in the bank. Number one, I don't even know if that's true. And number two, if it is, I don't think it's smart to have that much money in the bank, but what do I know? I'm just simply your assistant.
Miss Redding."
I grin and respond back.
"Dear Miss Redding,
You are my assistant, and as such, you're being a little bit obnoxious yourself, not to mention rude and disrespectful, seeing as I sign the checks that pay your salary each month. The simple fact of the matter is, I have this money in an account because it was going to be used to purchase a commercial building in another state. I would love to inform you that I have the majority of my money in mutual funds and real estate and I do know what I'm doing. Just in case you didn't know, I have an MBA as well as a JD.
Your boss, Mr. Chase."
I sit back and wait for her response. I smile when I see it pop up a couple of minutes later.
"Dear Mr. Chase,
Good for you that you have an MBA and a JD. I guess it's true what they say. People can have brain smarts, but they don't always have common sense or a heart, which is sad. You can’t actually think money makes you a decent person. In my eyes, money is the crux of all evil."
She didn't sign her name to this one. I respond.
"Dear Ms. Redding,
