In Your Corner
Page 36
Ray lifts an eyebrow. “You need to let go of the past.”
Maybe I do. And Jake with it.
Chapter 9
THE SUBMISSION MASTER
The next day, the unthinkable happens.
Rampage and the other fighters who helped me at Hellhole are served with a civil lawsuit for ten million dollars courtesy of Bob and his sidekick, now identified in the voluminous documents as Clive Custer. From the papers Rampage faxes to me, it appears they have retained some back alley attorney who has clearly taken the case on a contingency basis with the mind-set of “throw enough at them and something might stick.”
I see red.
Penny and I spend the rest of the afternoon drafting retainer agreements for the fighters, all of whom, except for Jake, have agreed to have me represent them. No arm twisting needed.
“Do you want me to draft something up for Jake just in case?” Penny hands me an envelope with the completed documents as I grab my gym bag from the storage cupboard.
“Not yet. It’s a bit of a tricky situation, which is why I need to speak to him in person.” I shrug on my jacket and tuck the envelope in my purse. “If we were in a sexual relationship and he wanted to retain me, it wouldn’t be an issue. The ethical rules allow attorneys to take a lover as a client. What they don’t allow is an attorney taking a client as a lover. I’m not sure if we are in a sexual relationship. Or if our relationship from before would count. All I really know is we had sex two years ago. And now we’re not having sex. Unless, of course, meaningless foreplay in the office counts as sex.”
Penny frowns. “So if you have sex with him, then he can hire you as his attorney without any ethical issues?”
“Crudely put, yes. But even if I was the kind of person who would purposely have sex with someone to smooth over ethical issues for the sole purpose of getting a client, which I’m not, I don’t know if I want to get involved with him again. It’s just too hard. Too many emotions involved. Too much history. I’m thinking I need to start fresh, find someone new.”
Penny snorts. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
Now it is my turn to frown. “That sounded slightly sarcastic.”
She turns off her computer and fishes around in her desk for her purse. “Only slightly? I was going for full-on sarcasm. You finally get another chance with the one guy you want more than anything else. You two almost burn up the office with the heat between you. But hey, maybe it’s time to find someone new? Seriously? Just sleep with him. Get that out of the way and then deal with whatever issues are left over and sign him up for the Bob and Clive funfest. Shag ’n’ bag.”
“Shag ’n’ bag?”
“That’s right. You sleep with him. Then you bag him as a client. Problem solved.”
I would laugh but Penny isn’t even smiling. She is dead serious about her shag ’n’ bag plan. “What if he doesn’t want to sleep with me? What if he’s just playing around and having a bit of fun at my expense?”
Penny rolls her eyes. “I thought you were the man whisperer. Why are you asking me for advice? I’m the one on an extended dry spell who can’t get a date to save her life. But since you did, I’ll give you the benefit of my experience. He’s a man. He wants to sleep with you.”
“Thanks for that,” I say dryly.
Penny shrugs and pushes open the door. “Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best.”
***
Almost two hours later, worn ragged by a traffic nightmare on the bridge, I make it to Redemption. With Rampage’s assistance, I commandeer Torment’s office for a group signing of the retainer agreements. I can only imagine what he would say if he saw fighters draped over every surface, but everyone promises to keep it hush-hush.
After the sign-up, everyone heads out, but Homicide Hank lingers by the door. He sighs loudly, then inspects Torment’s bookshelves as I sort out the papers on the desk.
“Something on your mind, Homicide?”
He takes a quick look over his shoulder and then slides into the chair across from me. “Actually, the wife and I…we’re thinking we should have wills for when the baby is born. But we don’t have a lotta money, so I bought a DIY will kit online.” He pulls out a crushed bundle of papers from his gym bag and slides them across the desk. “I just…it’s kinda complicated.”
Fortunately, Homicide lives in the catchment for the community legal aid clinic, and five minutes later he becomes my newest pro bono client. But the fun doesn’t end with Homicide. Obsidian catches me outside Torment’s office with a motor vehicle injury claim wadded into a tight ball in his fist, and Rampage hands me a bundle of insurance papers before I hit the changing room. Who needs advertising when I have Torment?
Relieved that Jake isn’t around, I make it into the registration office with enough time to sign up for three grappling and fight technique classes before Get Fit or Die starts. Shayla, now working the desk part-time, walks me through the forms, but just as I hand her my credit card, Fuzzy taps me on the shoulder.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you warming up for class tonight?”
“I’m signing up to learn how to fight.”
Fuzzy glares as I scrawl my name on the sign-up sheets and then snatches away my pen. “You can’t even manage Get Fit or Die. How are you gonna fight?”
“You can’t stop me. Shayla…er Shilla the Killa says I can take any classes I want. She says I don’t have to pass Get Fit or Die first. She says everything that comes out of your mouth about prerequisites is bullshit.” I smile at Shayla, frozen behind the cash register with my credit card in her hand. She doesn’t look pleased.
Maybe I do. And Jake with it.
Chapter 9
THE SUBMISSION MASTER
The next day, the unthinkable happens.
Rampage and the other fighters who helped me at Hellhole are served with a civil lawsuit for ten million dollars courtesy of Bob and his sidekick, now identified in the voluminous documents as Clive Custer. From the papers Rampage faxes to me, it appears they have retained some back alley attorney who has clearly taken the case on a contingency basis with the mind-set of “throw enough at them and something might stick.”
I see red.
Penny and I spend the rest of the afternoon drafting retainer agreements for the fighters, all of whom, except for Jake, have agreed to have me represent them. No arm twisting needed.
“Do you want me to draft something up for Jake just in case?” Penny hands me an envelope with the completed documents as I grab my gym bag from the storage cupboard.
“Not yet. It’s a bit of a tricky situation, which is why I need to speak to him in person.” I shrug on my jacket and tuck the envelope in my purse. “If we were in a sexual relationship and he wanted to retain me, it wouldn’t be an issue. The ethical rules allow attorneys to take a lover as a client. What they don’t allow is an attorney taking a client as a lover. I’m not sure if we are in a sexual relationship. Or if our relationship from before would count. All I really know is we had sex two years ago. And now we’re not having sex. Unless, of course, meaningless foreplay in the office counts as sex.”
Penny frowns. “So if you have sex with him, then he can hire you as his attorney without any ethical issues?”
“Crudely put, yes. But even if I was the kind of person who would purposely have sex with someone to smooth over ethical issues for the sole purpose of getting a client, which I’m not, I don’t know if I want to get involved with him again. It’s just too hard. Too many emotions involved. Too much history. I’m thinking I need to start fresh, find someone new.”
Penny snorts. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
Now it is my turn to frown. “That sounded slightly sarcastic.”
She turns off her computer and fishes around in her desk for her purse. “Only slightly? I was going for full-on sarcasm. You finally get another chance with the one guy you want more than anything else. You two almost burn up the office with the heat between you. But hey, maybe it’s time to find someone new? Seriously? Just sleep with him. Get that out of the way and then deal with whatever issues are left over and sign him up for the Bob and Clive funfest. Shag ’n’ bag.”
“Shag ’n’ bag?”
“That’s right. You sleep with him. Then you bag him as a client. Problem solved.”
I would laugh but Penny isn’t even smiling. She is dead serious about her shag ’n’ bag plan. “What if he doesn’t want to sleep with me? What if he’s just playing around and having a bit of fun at my expense?”
Penny rolls her eyes. “I thought you were the man whisperer. Why are you asking me for advice? I’m the one on an extended dry spell who can’t get a date to save her life. But since you did, I’ll give you the benefit of my experience. He’s a man. He wants to sleep with you.”
“Thanks for that,” I say dryly.
Penny shrugs and pushes open the door. “Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best.”
***
Almost two hours later, worn ragged by a traffic nightmare on the bridge, I make it to Redemption. With Rampage’s assistance, I commandeer Torment’s office for a group signing of the retainer agreements. I can only imagine what he would say if he saw fighters draped over every surface, but everyone promises to keep it hush-hush.
After the sign-up, everyone heads out, but Homicide Hank lingers by the door. He sighs loudly, then inspects Torment’s bookshelves as I sort out the papers on the desk.
“Something on your mind, Homicide?”
He takes a quick look over his shoulder and then slides into the chair across from me. “Actually, the wife and I…we’re thinking we should have wills for when the baby is born. But we don’t have a lotta money, so I bought a DIY will kit online.” He pulls out a crushed bundle of papers from his gym bag and slides them across the desk. “I just…it’s kinda complicated.”
Fortunately, Homicide lives in the catchment for the community legal aid clinic, and five minutes later he becomes my newest pro bono client. But the fun doesn’t end with Homicide. Obsidian catches me outside Torment’s office with a motor vehicle injury claim wadded into a tight ball in his fist, and Rampage hands me a bundle of insurance papers before I hit the changing room. Who needs advertising when I have Torment?
Relieved that Jake isn’t around, I make it into the registration office with enough time to sign up for three grappling and fight technique classes before Get Fit or Die starts. Shayla, now working the desk part-time, walks me through the forms, but just as I hand her my credit card, Fuzzy taps me on the shoulder.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you warming up for class tonight?”
“I’m signing up to learn how to fight.”
Fuzzy glares as I scrawl my name on the sign-up sheets and then snatches away my pen. “You can’t even manage Get Fit or Die. How are you gonna fight?”
“You can’t stop me. Shayla…er Shilla the Killa says I can take any classes I want. She says I don’t have to pass Get Fit or Die first. She says everything that comes out of your mouth about prerequisites is bullshit.” I smile at Shayla, frozen behind the cash register with my credit card in her hand. She doesn’t look pleased.
