Meg said, "He wants to look the contract over, of course. I did let him know you were eager to get his signature on it before the press conference tomorrow."
Puck turned to the other Hellraised who sat around the table. "That will be fine," he said. "We know we want him to represent us. He's a good man, and if he needs a little time, we're willing to wait."
The other Hellraised—a dark angel named Canthoniel; another devil, this one named Roiling Pusbucket; and an absolutely gorgeous incubus whose name Meg couldn't remember because he kept smiling at her—nodded their agreement.
"Then if we don't have anything else—" she started to say, but Puck stopped her.
"We've been discussing the matter," Puck said. "While you were gone, I mean. We're going to need a human lawyer to represent the Devil's Point project, and those of us who work on it. Hell's lawyers would certainly be willing to consult, but they haven't taken the bar in North Carolina so they can't practice here." He paused. "Well, some of them passed the bar in North Carolina, but I don't think the state allows lawyers to practice after they're dead."
"I think the state might have a problem with that," Meg agreed. "I know a few business and corporate lawyers who would be able to take you on as clients," Meg said. "Though they might not want to . . ."
"Exactly." Puck smiled at her. "And honestly, we don't want any lawyer. We need a good, honest, upstanding person. An idealist. Someone compassionate, someone who sees beyond our exteriors to the people we once were . . . and could be again."
"I'm not a corporate lawyer, and you're going to be a corporation. I do family practice."
Puck nodded. The other Hellraised nodded. "We all know you're doing good work. Admirable work. We realize that you've spent a great deal of time and effort creating a practice that permits people in lower income brackets to find good representation." Puck smiled.
Meg waited, listening.
"Your idealism extended to helping another disadvantaged section of the North Carolina population: us." Puck tapped his chest, and his expression grew serious. "I'm the first fruits of your work, Meg. I'm the start. You can do more, though; you can reach more of us."
"What about my family practice?"
"Keep it We won't have much work for you for a while."
"But when you do, your work will eat up my time."
Puck shrugged. "Then you hire partners. Secretaries, legal assistants, interns. By then, your work with us will subsidize your family practice. You'll be able to do pro bono work, expand your activism, make the changes in the system that you want to make."
He handed her a folded piece of paper. She unfolded it. "This is a check for half a million dollars," she said.
"It's a retainer. Against this year's expenses. If we go over that in work, bill us. And we can afford another check like that to begin the new year, and in six-month increments thereafter."
"A million dollars a year."
"To start with. If we're as successful as we hope to be, you'll make much more."
She looked at them. She looked at the check. She looked back at them, and frowned. "What are the strings, Puck? Contract on my soul? Retirement at sixty-five, damnation in ten more?"
Puck flushed and looked down at his hands. When he looked at her again, she could see the pain in his eyes. "Even you," he said sadly. "When I try to do something good, something right, even you see an ulterior motive."
She looked down at the check again, feeling her cheeks grow hot. "Damn. I'm sorry, Puck." She looked up at him. "I know you need a good lawyer. And I know I could do a good job for you. Can. I can do a good job for you. It just isn't the career I planned, you know?"
He nodded. "Life is what happens while you're making other plans."
She smiled. "So I've heard. So what will I do for this million dollars a year?"
Puck said, "We want to see Devil's Point succeed, of course, so first you'll probably be dealing with the people who are out to put roadblocks in our way. Once the project is off the ground, we'll move to broader concerns. We want representation in local government. We want full citizenship, the right to vote. We'll pay taxes, but we want to get something for our tax dollars. We want to be mainstreamed into society. We want you to give us a shot at taking advantage of this second chance we've been given."
She could feel her family practice falling to the side. Maybe not for years, but it would eventually. This was bigger, and no one else could do what she could do. No one else could give the Hellraised a fair shake.
And family practice lawyers were everywhere.
Expediency, she thought.
This is like dealing with Kyle Haversham in the restaurant. You keep the end result in mind. You remember whom you're trying to help. You never lose sight of your idealism. Then you do what you have to do to get the results you need.
She shook Puck's hand. "I'm your lawyer, Puck."