Page 107 of Inheritance


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“Let me take your coat.”

As she went to hang it up, Sonya shut her eyes.

He’d brought a present for the dog. How was she supposed to resist that?

“So, I’m set up in the library, with coffee.”

“Appreciate the coffee, and you making the time.”

“I took a look at your website,” she said as they went upstairs with the dogs behind them. “It’s very serviceable.”

“I think that’s a dig.”

“Not at all. Or, okay, not much of one. I can make it better, but we’ll start with what you’re looking for.”

“It feels dated. Poole’s Bay’s small-town, but we do have clients outlying. We’re family run. I want to play that up. We’ve got people who’ve worked for us for decades, and we do internships.”

“And there’s the office itself. The house. The family house. It has a feel. A you-can-trust-us-to-look-out-for-you feel.”

“There you go.”

“Have a seat.”

Sonya poured coffee while the dogs played tug.

She made notes as he laid out what he thought they needed. More as she asked questions and he answered.

By the time the dogs settled down by the fire, she had the gist.

Sharing a house with ghosts might have her questioning her sanity. Feeling—no question about it—a sexual buzz for a potential client definitely had her wondering what to do, or not do, about it.

But when it came to the work, confidence ruled.

“You want clean, simple, traditional, with an emphasis on the history of the firm. Nothing fancy, no big hype. Doyle Law Offices is an institution in Poole’s Bay for a reason. I’d use a photo of the offices as a banner. It says: When you come into our house, we’re going to help you. Right now you just have the name of the firm. This would warm it up. Doctors and lawyers are very personal choices. So make it personal.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“Add a tab for the staff—photos and short bios. And since you take on interns, another for that. With your success stories.Julie Smith went on to Harvard Law, that sort of thing. And you need a page for each of you. Ace, Deuce, Trey.”

“I like it, but it doesn’t sound simple.”

“My job’s to make it simple—for you, and for the potential client shopping for a lawyer. Take your business cards. The one your father gave me is slightly different than yours. They should all have a look, a consistent Doyle Law Offices look. And instead of black on white, I’d suggest a warmer color. Ecru maybe.”

“Ecru.” His lips curved in that slow, easy smile. “That’s not a word you hear every day.”

“You do in my line. Coordinate your business cards, letterhead, the works. One cohesive look for one cohesive firm. Right now, your website’s a white background with bright blue font, blue backgrounds on the photos. It’s too staid.”

“Staid.”

“And you’re not. None of you are. Let it reflect who you are and what you do. Your father traveled to Boston, sat at my table, and changed my life. And he was so kind, so patient. You came here on your weekend and moved furniture for me.”

“Neighbors do for neighbors. And Collin was family. Family does for family.”

“Yes.” She beamed at him. “Exactly. You’re the neighborhood law firm. You’re the people a family can trust to take care of them.”

“You’re good at this.”

“I am.”

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