“What happened to your mouth?” Sequoia asked, referring to the bruise forming where Jinx had punched him.
“Disagreement with a client,” Cooper said.
“Oh, dear,” Sequoia said, not sounding terribly concerned.
“It was all in a good cause,” I said, feeling like I was defending him.
That also wasn’t really a lie. From what I could tell, Cooper was trying to keep Jinx from hitting Ivanov and possibly becoming the subject of a mob hit. Something Cooper clearly had no fear of himself.
“So, Sarah, what are your parents like?” Sequoia asked.
“Uh, well, my mom is great. She helped put me through law school. I got some scholarships, too, because my grades were high enough. Didn’t keep me from needing to get student loans. Turns out law school is expensive.”
“Especially the good ones,” Sequoia agreed.
“How did you know where I went?”
“Just a hunch.”
“She has a lot of those, sometimes they’re even right,” Cooper interjected.
“Oh hush, and you know full well it is a lot more than sometimes.”
“I figured it would be a way to make up for my teen years,” I volunteered
“Ah, naughty, were you?” Sequoia asked.
“Terrible, much more money than sense. Never wondering where it was all coming from. I’ve been on the straight and narrow path ever since.”
“Ah, which explains why you didn’t mention your dad.”
“Sorry?”
“When I asked about your parents. You only mentioned your mom. Not a word about dad, and you also mentioned the money in the past tense. As though you had it and then you didn’t. Which would explain your cut-glass, private school diction.”
I blinked at her. “What’s wrong with my diction?”
“Not a single thing. That’s just it. It is perfect. Not the sort of thing one would usually expect from a girl with student loan debt.”
Damn, she got me. It was becoming abundantly clear that Sequoia was altogether too preceptive.
“Insider trading, was it dear?” Sequoia asked, sympathetically.
“Embezzlement actually,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
“Oh, how dreadful. Still, nothing to do with you, though. If anything, you would be one of the victims of his cunning and skullduggery.”
I didn’t cry. I forced myself not to cry. Even though that was the first time someone found out about who my dad was and what he had done without looking at me askew. I still felt terrible about my part in spending the money, but I also knew that Sequoia was right. It wasn’t as though I had stolen it myself. My dad did, and he was facing the consequences, just like I was.
I could feel Cooper’s hand on my back. I wondered if he maybe shared his mom’s psychic gifts despite his stated skepticism about it. I put my head on his shoulder, and he kissed me on my forehead, as Sequoia looked on, smiling approvingly.
It was after dessert. Why do all the big things, both wonderful or terrible, always happen during or after dessert? It was an unwritten law of the universe that I still had yet to fully comprehend.
I saw them first. Ivanov was not the kind of person it was easy to forget in a hurry. He had a tendency to stay with you and keep coming back like a bad burrito. I smiled at the image, Ivanov looking as though he’d had a few thousand burritos in his lifetime. My smile faded when I saw who was with him. Glen Anderson was my dad’s lawyer for the trial. I hated him for sending my dad away, even if he did deserve it. I soon got over it and started hating him for another, far more mature reason. He was a cynical charlatan who would represent Satan if he was paid enough. As evidence by who he was sharing a table with.
I tried to avoid them as we left, but like all agents of pure evil, Anderson had very good senses.
“Sarah, how is your daddy doing in prison?” Anderson asked.
“She’s Jones’s attorney, you know,” Ivanov pointed out.
“Great,” I said, remaining calm, “he is filing an appeal based on incompetent representation.”
It wasn’t true, but I could help but at least try and pierce his arrogant bubble just a bit. I tried not to smile too much as I watched him deflate.
“I can fit you in next Friday to discuss the settlement terms,” he said, his back going nearly rigid.
“Oh, that really doesn’t work for me, how about Tuesday, say two-ish?”
I knew it was petty, but I just had to get back at him for the dad crack as well as being a general disgrace to my profession. No way I was going to yield to him, even on something so comparatively small.
“Works for me,” he said, with his best winning, used car salesman smile.
It was a smile Cooper would have probably wanted to knock down Anderson’s throat, had he seen it. Yet, at that particular moment, Cooper looked very pale, as Marla Anderson made eyes at him like he was a piece of beef.