“THANKS SO MUCH FOR agreeing to see me on such short notice, Ms. Jenkins.”
The distinguished-looking woman smiles at me across her desk. Her office is almost spartan, simply decorated, with a shelf filled with law books lining one wall. Her desk is old—not an antique, just old, grey metal with a formica top like my third grade teacher had in her classroom. The chair I’m sitting in is adequate but not comfortable. There’s a picture of Jenkins with a man and a little boy who looks to be seven or eight on her desk. Other than that, there’s no personal touches, nothing that screams “Angela Jenkins, attorney at law.” She has just what she needs for her job.
In this case, defending an innocent man.
“Glad to do it, Father,” she smiles. “In my business, like in yours, when people need us they u
