Meg slipped off her shoe and thumped a cockroach as it scuttled behind her desk. Then she slipped the flat back on and went through the morning's mail. Bill. Bill. Late check from a client. Letter from a client explaining why check was not enclosed. Bill. Junk.
The phone rang.
"Lerner Family Consulting, may I help you?"
"Meg, it's Ed."
"Hi, Uncle Ed. What's up?"
"I have some news for you."
"Good or bad?"
"Good."
"Then I'll keep you. What's your news?"
"I have your investment group."
"Really? That's outstanding! May I ask whom?"
"Some of my clients at the bank are willing to put together the money to fund a consortium, if you and your devil can come up with the right project."
"How much are they willing to go?"
"We're currently liquid for eight million dollars, and—again for the right project—we can go higher. Here's the stipulation. We're not looking for a long-term investment, but something with a quick turnover. Do you have any idea when you can have a proposal for us?"
Meg remembered the law office where she'd worked while she was getting her degree, and the lawyer who got a call asking if he had any knowledge of publishing law. He'd said yes and set up an appointment for the next day. Meg waited until he was off the phone, then said, "You don't know anything about publishing law."
He said, "I will by tomorrow morning. Expediency rules, Meg. Always take the client. Spend the night studying case law if you must, but always take the client."
She didn't agree with him at the time, but now she found herself thinking, Expediency rules. "I'll have it as soon as you're ready to see it. I'm booked today and I have court tomorrow, but if I can set up a meeting with everyone the day after that, I'll put the proposal on the table for you."
"That will be fine. Oh, by the way, I ran into Frances Lederman on the golf course this morning. She wanted to know if there was any chance you'd changed your mind?"
"About the partnership offer? No, I haven't. Corporate stuff just isn't my area of interest. There aren't enough family lawyers with fees real people can afford, so I'm going to stick with my private practice. If I find myself prowling the pet food aisle at the grocery store, I might reconsider. Till then, I'm going to tough it out."
She said her good-byes, then checked her calendar. Bainbridge for a divorce consultation at ten-thirty. Lackland to discuss getting an increase in child support at noon. Simkins at three to work out the last details of a separation agreement. And dinner with Dan and the devil at seven.
Plenty of time in between to work on the legal brief for the class-action antidiscrimination suit. And to figure out some sort of business the Hellraised could do that would be an attractive short-term investment for her uncle's group.