Read Online Running from the Law by Lisa Scottoline - Free Book Online Page B

happy that our firm would leave him in the lurch.”
    “He’ll get over it.”
    “I’m not happy when he’s not happy. I’m not happy when any federal judge is unhappy, especially in our district. Don’t you want to make me happy?” He spoke in the subdued tone of someone who expected an affirmative answer.
    “No.”
    “You wound me.”
    “You’ll get over it, too.”
    Mack gazed past me through one of three large, smoked-glass windows, which overlooked the offices of the law firm he had just left. He’d demanded this view because he wanted his old firm to see him making money for someone else. “So,” he said, “I told the judge that he could rest assured that Averback, Shore & Macklin was his counsel at the beginning and we were going to remain his counsel to the end. Got it?”
    “What’s this? Muscle? ”
    He smiled, not unpleasantly. “I’m flexing. You like?”
    “Be still my heart.”
    “Good. Then it’s settled.” He grinned like he wasn’t kidding. I felt my temper rise.
    “Not exactly, Mack. It’s my practice. I’ll run it the way I want.”
    “The judge is a client of this firm.”
    “No, the judge is a client of mine. He didn’t hire the firm, he hired me. I was his lawyer, now I’m not. As of today.”
    He eased back into his desk chair. The gesture looked like resignation, but I knew better. Mack always recoiled before he struck, like a cobra. “You’re right, Rita. It’s your practice. You can run it any way you like. I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you know the Committee was delighted when the Hamilton matter came to you.”
    “I remember.” A collective rubbing of soft, pasty hands.
    “I don’t have to tell you how disappointed they’d be if I had to report on your withdrawal.”
    I was breaking hearts everywhere. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
    “You know, the Committee has been discussing the possibility of a midcourse correction in the partnership contracts. Were you aware of that?”
    Firm politics was not my strong suit. The courtroom was where the action was, not the conference room. “Midcourse correction?”
    “A couple of us have noted that the current distributions aren’t adequately reflecting our contributions.”
    “You mean you’re not making enough money, Mack?”
    “In a word? Absofuckinglutely.”
    We both laughed, without mirth.
    “It would affect all of our contracts,” he said. “But your name was the only one from your class that came up for an increase. I could make it happen, Rita. You stand to skip two classes. Serious money.”
    A lawyer’s trick; whenever possible, wave a check. Since I grew up without money, I was almost impervious to this temptation. Almost. “You mean if I drop Judge Hamilton, I can kiss my raise good-bye?”
    “In a word?”
    Prick. “Very funny.”
    “Look, Rita, this whole situation is in your control. As I said, I can’t make you do anything.”
    “Fine. No raise. I’m happy with my draw now.”
    Mack made a sturdy tent with his fingers. “Well, then, consider that your partnership draw may not stay as high as it is. If there’s a midcourse correction, some of us will go up. But some will go down.”
    My mouth tasted bitter. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. If I don’t represent the judge, my draw will go down? In a word?”
    He opened his hands. “I don’t control the Committee.”
    “Who are you kidding, Mack? They don’t take a dump without asking you.”
    “Rita—”
    It pissed me off. “What you’re saying is if I give up the representation, the Committee will recut the pie. And after they get done with my piece, I’ll have to put the ice cream on the side. Think I’ll be able to balance even a spoonful on my sliver?”
    “You’re overreacting. The whole thing is in your control.”
    “Then why am I feeling so controlled?”
    “I have no idea. Big piece or little piece? The choice is up to you.”
    I folded my arms, looking no tougher