Chapter 4 ~ December 18
1163 Words
Chapter 4 ~ December 18 ThirstyIt was barely 11 o’clock but Camelia already needed a drink.
It’s coming earlier every day.
She rolled her shoulders to dislodge the thought, took a long drink of water, and bent to the tasks her assistant had organized for her. She was reviewing a financial affidavit when Cate walked in.
“Nina Garry is on line three. She wants to buy you lunch, so she must have another pro bono case,” she said. “And here’s the asset list on the Forman case. You’ll see there are a couple of account numbers missing, but I’m following up on it.”
“Forman? That’s not our case.”
“Hate to break it to you, but it will be. Byron wants to see you as soon as you have a minute,” Cate said, peering over her shoulder through the open doorway. She stepped into Camelia’s office and pushed the door shut. “Brace yourself. He seems really pissed off.”
“About what? Wait, hang on,” Camelia said, holding up her index finger.
Camelia really wanted to slip away and meet Nina at the Biltmore, drain a bottle of pinot noir, and call it a day, but an angry Byron coupled with the stack of files on her desk were like ominous clouds, warning her away.
“Hey Nina, can I get a rain check?”
“On lunch, yes. On this emergency hearing? No. Can you take it? The hearing is Tuesday,” Nina said.
Camelia paused. “Is it telephonic?”
“It can be, if you think you can cover it. Mom and two kids are about to be deported back to Nicaragua if we don’t get an extension,” Nina said.
Camelia looked up. Cate was shaking her head, pointing at the stack of files on her desk. She stage whispered, “No way. Don’t do it.”
“I just... dammit Nina. I really wish I could, but I’m under the gun. I’m so sorry,” she said.
“I get it. You weren’t my first call and you won’t be my last and hey, have a good Christmas. Let’s catch up after the holidays,” Nina said.
Camelia hung up the phone and turned back to Cate. “I hate telling her no. Anyway, what’s up with Byron?”
“Remember the Hallman case? We’re being sued for malpractice,” Cate said.
“Are you kidding me? When were we served? And what did we do to inspire Joan Hallman’s wrath? I thought she loved us,” Camelia said.
Camelia ran hot anyway, but Cate’s announcement had her heart rate ticking up. Anxiety was a warming spice, creating a low flame in her solar plexus, radiating heat throughout her body. She could hear her blood flowing in her ears.
“We were served a couple of days ago, but the new docketing clerk is way behind so I just got it this morning. I haven’t read it all the way through, but it seems like a slam dunk for us. Joan didn’t get her way and her life is a big mess, so she shouldn’t have to pay our fees. And she claims you smelled of alcohol at a meeting,” Cate said, cautiously. “I’m sure it won’t hold up, but Byron is upset because the response is due while he’s in Utah for his ski trip,” Cate said, rolling her eyes. “And his new client, this Forman guy, needs a quickie divorce to get assets out of his name. Gonna be a busy end of the year.”
Camelia took a deep breath.
“Jesus. I’ll have to report the malpractice...”
“Done,” Cate said. “I sent a copy to Byron’s assistant and scheduled a call with the liability carrier. And I drafted a letter to Hallman’s attorney regarding the arbitration clause in the fee agreement. It’s in your stack.” She nodded at the pile of files on Camelia’s desk.
“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Camelia quipped. “About Forman. Do we even have room for another case? How many are on our docket as of today?”
“We’re right at the firm limit. The Forman case will make 41. Should be easy, though, since he’s giving the wife everything. Obviously, she’s not arguing about it. I’ve already drafted the Petition and it’s here,” Cate held up a thin sheaf of papers, “for you to approve. As soon as you’re done with Byron.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.” Camelia headed for the hallway, coffee mug in hand, heart in throat. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Auntie Freda.
Shit.
She stopped, took a deep breath, and returned to her office, pulling the door closed behind her.
“Good morning! How’s my favorite auntie today?”
“Good morning, dear. I hope I’m not calling at a bad time?” Freda said.
“Not at all. Things are winding down for the holidays, so I’m just catching up on some paperwork,” Camelia said.
If only it were true.
“I’m terribly excited to see you all, and I just want to double-check the dates and times. You’re arriving on the 21st, is that right?”
Camelia recited travel dates for Freda, who reciprocated with her own list of events.
“I hope I’ve caught you before you finish packing? I don’t want to spill the beans just yet, but please bring something dressy for New Year’s Day,” Freda said.
“Oh? And what’s that about?” Camelia responded.
“It’s a secret for now, so don’t be a buttinsky!” Freda said, laughing.
“Well, okay Mystery Woman. But define ‘dressy’. Like formal wear?”
“No, more garden party cocktail,” Freda said.
“Does Leon need a suit, or is a sport coat okay?”
“It never hurts to see a man in a suit, but I suppose a sport coat will do,” Freda said.
“That’s probably the best we can hope for, Auntie. You know how these computer geeks are—they live in their jeans!”
“Yes, well, the working man’s uniform has certainly changed. I remember when men wore three-piece suits and a fedora to work every day, but I guess that time has passed, hasn’t it?”
“Not even trial attorneys wear three-piece suits anymore. I’ll make sure we look presentable for your mysterious event, but don’t count on Leon wearing a suit,” Camelia said.
“That’s all I can ask, dear. And please let Sophie and Steve know, too. It’s a very special surprise, and I wouldn’t want any of you to feel out of place by being under-dressed,” Freda said.
Ouch.
“Thanks for the heads up! We’re looking forward to our visit, Auntie. I better get going. Duty calls.” Camelia said, smiling through Freda’s little passive-aggressive dig.
She tried to shush her irritation, but this request prickled, reminding Camelia how demanding Auntie Freda could be. As if the piles of winter clothes weren’t enough, now she had to pack yet another outfit for some secret event.
What next?
It was still early in the day, but Camelia desperately wanted a drink. Since she wouldn’t have a chance to go out for lunch... she slipped her desk drawer open and ran her hand over the cool copper flask. It didn’t take long to convince herself to unscrew the cap and pour a couple of glugs of vodka into her coffee mug. Just for now, just to get through this last day in the office.
January 1st, I’m done for good.
She gulped half the mug.
Crap. Byron was still waiting.
- Writer
