Read Online Sasha McCandless 03 - Irretrievably Broken by Melissa F. Miller - Free Book Online
Authors: Melissa F. Miller
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Decisive.
Except they were none of those things right now. Right now, they were all looking at Will with varying degrees of hope and desperation in their eyes.
Will straightened his tie and swallowed, then he said, “Sasha, thank you for coming in on such short notice. As you know, the firm would like you to represent Mr. Lang, and we’re willing to discuss the contours of that representation with you.”
Jennings nodded along as Will spoke.
Don’t let them intimidate you . Be cool. She thought of what Noah used to tell her: fake it if you have to.
Sasha arched a brow. “As it happens, Mr. Lang would also like me to represent him. And I spoke to him about an hour ago to tell him I would do so, subject to the firm’s agreement not to interfere with our attorney-client relationship. Those are the contours.”
She sat back and watched the heavy hitters defer to Will.
“As a criminal defense attorney myself,” Will began, “I understand your concerns. You rightly don’t want the firm to second-guess your advice or whisper in Mr. Lang’s ear. But you have to understand, too. Two Prescott & Talbott partners have been murdered in the past year. We need to control the fallout from that fact. As a result, the firm has an interest in the outcome of Mr. Lang’s case. We will want to be kept apprised of the case and consulted on strategy.”
He flicked his eyes to Cinco, looking for confirmation that he’d delivered the right message. Cinco gave a little nod.
Sasha stared straight ahead at the painting on the wall. As befit Cinco’s private conference room, it was a nude. There was no question that his secretary had not posed for this one. According to the brass placard hanging beneath it, it was the work of Philip Pearlstein, a native Pittsburgher and noted painter who specialized in nude models posing with unusual objects—in this case, a yoga ball.
She ran through a series of calculations in her head. When she’d spoken to Greg, he’d admitted that Ellen had filed for divorce because of his gambling. He’d also admitted he’d lost his job because he’d taken to stopping in at the casino on his way to work, which inevitably led to him not going to work. So, with no income and Ellen’s estate tied up in the divorce, Greg had told her that, despite his ritzy address, cash flow was a problem.
But Sasha simply wasn’t willing to be at Prescott & Talbott’s beck and call. Greg would have to figure out another way to pay her. She wondered if he had any space on his credit cards. Presumably, Naya could set arrange for her to accept credit cards. To date, all her clients had paid by wire transfer or check—yet another strike against dabbling in criminal law.
She pushed her chair back from the table and stood.
“Your proposal’s not feasible. If Mr. Lang wants me to represent him, we’ll work something out between the two of us. But I won’t have you breathing down my neck and second-guessing me.”
Sasha reached in her purse for the retainer check, prepared to throw it on the gleaming table as part of her dramatic exit. It had been a mistake to even consider taking the case. What she really needed was a clean break from her former firm.
Kevin Marcus leaned forward and said, “Wait. Please reconsider your position. I personally assure you that we won’t interfere wth your work. We will, however, stand ready to give you any support you request in your representation of Greg Lang. I’m sure we can work through this.”
His voice was strained, but he stopped just short of begging.
She remained standing but asked, “Why is this so important to the firm? And don’t feed me some line about friendship with Greg Lang. I bet half of you couldn’t pick him out of a lineup.”
Kevin looked at Cinco. Cinco looked at Fred.
Fred spread his paw-like hands wide and leaned back in his chair. “Seems to us Ellen was killed and her fella was framed to make the firm look bad.”
“You think someone killed one
Except they were none of those things right now. Right now, they were all looking at Will with varying degrees of hope and desperation in their eyes.
Will straightened his tie and swallowed, then he said, “Sasha, thank you for coming in on such short notice. As you know, the firm would like you to represent Mr. Lang, and we’re willing to discuss the contours of that representation with you.”
Jennings nodded along as Will spoke.
Don’t let them intimidate you . Be cool. She thought of what Noah used to tell her: fake it if you have to.
Sasha arched a brow. “As it happens, Mr. Lang would also like me to represent him. And I spoke to him about an hour ago to tell him I would do so, subject to the firm’s agreement not to interfere with our attorney-client relationship. Those are the contours.”
She sat back and watched the heavy hitters defer to Will.
“As a criminal defense attorney myself,” Will began, “I understand your concerns. You rightly don’t want the firm to second-guess your advice or whisper in Mr. Lang’s ear. But you have to understand, too. Two Prescott & Talbott partners have been murdered in the past year. We need to control the fallout from that fact. As a result, the firm has an interest in the outcome of Mr. Lang’s case. We will want to be kept apprised of the case and consulted on strategy.”
He flicked his eyes to Cinco, looking for confirmation that he’d delivered the right message. Cinco gave a little nod.
Sasha stared straight ahead at the painting on the wall. As befit Cinco’s private conference room, it was a nude. There was no question that his secretary had not posed for this one. According to the brass placard hanging beneath it, it was the work of Philip Pearlstein, a native Pittsburgher and noted painter who specialized in nude models posing with unusual objects—in this case, a yoga ball.
She ran through a series of calculations in her head. When she’d spoken to Greg, he’d admitted that Ellen had filed for divorce because of his gambling. He’d also admitted he’d lost his job because he’d taken to stopping in at the casino on his way to work, which inevitably led to him not going to work. So, with no income and Ellen’s estate tied up in the divorce, Greg had told her that, despite his ritzy address, cash flow was a problem.
But Sasha simply wasn’t willing to be at Prescott & Talbott’s beck and call. Greg would have to figure out another way to pay her. She wondered if he had any space on his credit cards. Presumably, Naya could set arrange for her to accept credit cards. To date, all her clients had paid by wire transfer or check—yet another strike against dabbling in criminal law.
She pushed her chair back from the table and stood.
“Your proposal’s not feasible. If Mr. Lang wants me to represent him, we’ll work something out between the two of us. But I won’t have you breathing down my neck and second-guessing me.”
Sasha reached in her purse for the retainer check, prepared to throw it on the gleaming table as part of her dramatic exit. It had been a mistake to even consider taking the case. What she really needed was a clean break from her former firm.
Kevin Marcus leaned forward and said, “Wait. Please reconsider your position. I personally assure you that we won’t interfere wth your work. We will, however, stand ready to give you any support you request in your representation of Greg Lang. I’m sure we can work through this.”
His voice was strained, but he stopped just short of begging.
She remained standing but asked, “Why is this so important to the firm? And don’t feed me some line about friendship with Greg Lang. I bet half of you couldn’t pick him out of a lineup.”
Kevin looked at Cinco. Cinco looked at Fred.
Fred spread his paw-like hands wide and leaned back in his chair. “Seems to us Ellen was killed and her fella was framed to make the firm look bad.”
“You think someone killed one
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