When the sun rose on Monday, Rennie did as well. She went about her morning routine. She showered, applied lotion to every part of her body, drank her coffee, dressed, and did her hair. After Graham left, she had turned off her phone, worked from home on Friday, and spent the weekend curled up on her couch with a blanket, his sweatshirt, and a couple pints of ice cream. They weren’t broken up but were not exactly together. They were going to date, which meant she’d see Graham when she went to Cape Harbor or on the off chance he drove down to visit her. It wasn’t good enough, and she felt like her world had fallen apart in a matter of days. It was the beginning of the year, and she already wanted a redo.
On her way in to her office, she turned on her phone and waited for the onslaught of messages to come through. There weren’t as many as she’d thought, and she didn’t know if this was a good sign or not. She read the one from Brooklyn, which said to call her if she needed anything, and there was nothing from Graham.
“Good morning, Ms. Wallace,” Ester said when Rennie stepped off the elevator. Ester handed her boss a file folder and followed her into her office. “Good weekend?”
“Not really. What’s this?”
“It’s a report I came across on Friday. It was left on the copier, and I thought it was something you’d like to see.”
Rennie sat down and read the documents in the file. Case notes about the potential suit against Graham. As far as Rennie could tell, it was all circumstantial evidence and hearsay.
“Ester, you’re a little devil, and I love it.”
“Thank you.” Ester bowed. “I have something else. This came to me on Friday.” Ester handed her boss a printed email with a medical report attached to it. Rennie read it over twice.
“No way.”
“Perfect timing, right?”
“Couldn’t be better. Nice job. Can you ask Mr. Perkins to come and see me before our staff meeting?”
Ester nodded and excused herself. Rennie kept poring over the document and wished her divorce clients would hand her smoking guns like this. The knock on her door startled her. She jumped and closed the file before she looked to see who it was.
“Oh, Jeff. Come in.” He closed the door behind him and took a seat across from her. “Remember my pro bono case?” He nodded. “My client is in rehab, thanks to your strategy, and he’s actually doing really well, according to him and his therapists. But his brother, who owns a bar, is the subject of a witch hunt.” Rennie went over everything Walter had told her when they spoke and handed Jefferson the file from Ester.
“Who did he piss off?”
“Odd, right? It’s like Graham has an enemy, which I don’t get. He’s literally one of the most loved members of the community. The same for his brother, despite everything. This is a stand-up family, and this delivery driver is trying to frame them for something they had no part in. Can they do that?”
“That’s the thing about civil suits. You hash them out in court or pretrial. It’s up to a judge or a jury to find if there’s fault.”
“Even if the plaintiff is lying?”
Jeff nodded. “Do you remember the OJ Simpson case? He’s found not guilty by a jury of his peers, but when it comes to civil court, the families are awarded millions. It’s all in how the case is presented.”
“That’s crazy.”
“It is. Do you want my help with this? I’ll gladly take it over and keep you in the loop.”
Rennie leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Donna is going to fight you on this. She’ll tell you that you can’t keep the case because of her client.”
Jefferson laughed. “Let her. I’m not scared of her. Besides, we have a signed contract from your client—well, now mine—saying we represent him. She can cry wolf, whine to Lex. I don’t care. I’ll happily take her on in court, but by the looks of this, one conference and the plaintiffs will owe the Chamberlains money for harassment.” He rubbed his hands together. “I do love countersuits.” He picked up the folder and tapped it on her desk. “Let your clients know I’ll call them by the end of the week.”
She hoped this would be the day her Soto case finally ended. She was optimistic when she went into the conference room and saw her client Kelly seated at the table. Kelly was a tiny woman with stick-straight, long jet-black hair. When she first came to Rennie, Kelly had given her a book to read and told Rennie that she wrote it. Since then, Rennie had read every novel her client had written.
“Hey, Kelly,” Rennie said as she entered. “How was your holiday?”