Legally Tender

Christina’s eyes widened. “It can’t be. The clocks went back.”

Marci’s jaw dropped. She covered her mouth with her hand. “We don’t set our clocks back. This is Indiana.”

“Oh, my God.” Houston, Boston, Cincinnati—everyone in the United States sets his or her clock back. Right? “You mean I’m an hour behind? I have a meeting at eight-thirty and I’m not even showered? And Bella!”

“You go get Bella. I’ll wait here on the step. Megan’s in the car, watching a DVD. As long as I can see her, she’s fine.”

“Bless you,” Christina said. She turned on her heel and ran. Never had she moved so fast. She had Bella dressed, her teeth brushed and her hair combed in less than six minutes. Since Morrisville Elementary had a fantastic hot-breakfast program, Christina experienced some relief as she passed Bella over to Marci. At least Christina didn’t have to worry about her daughter missing the most important meal of the day.

She herself would miss it, however. She didn’t have time for her normal bagel, black coffee and perusal of the Wall Street Journal. Instead, she rushed about, showering and shaving in under ten minutes and hopping on one foot as she wiggled into her pantyhose and shoes almost at the same time. She applied makeup in record time, as well.

Perhaps it was a good thing that Morrisville was such a small town. She made it to work only five minutes late. Her heels clacked on the marble tile as she entered the old brick building that had housed the law offices of Lancaster and Morris for more than sixty years.

“Christina Jones,” she said when she reached the receptionist’s desk in the middle of the cavernous lobby. “I have a meeting with Reginald Morris.”

“Welcome, Ms. Jones. They’re expecting you. They’re already assembled in the grand conference room. Let me buzz them and tell them you’ve arrived.”

That grand conference room had been the room in which she’d interviewed. It easily seated twenty, and no doubt all the senior partners were already there. Waiting for her?

She hoped not.

“Thank you,” Christina said to the receptionist. The ornate three-story building, complete with a rotunda, was over one hundred years old. With high, arched ceilings and balconies, it had served as a county seat and courthouse before a new building had been erected in another town.

“Someone will be down in just a moment,” the receptionist said. “Feel free to have a seat.” She indicated a waiting area with old ornate chairs.

“I’m fine,” Christina said. She clutched the Hermès briefcase that had been her gift to herself for landing the job. She hadn’t been a shoo-in for the position. She’d competed against four other finalists.

Five minutes later, her feet beginning to throb from standing so long in her new two-inch Italian pumps, Christina turned as she sensed motion to her right.

“Ms. Jones.” Reginald Morris, the fifty-something man with whom she’d done almost all her interviewing, approached, and she gave him a professional smile.

This job was the ticket to her and Bella’s future. This job represented Christina’s finally taking the reins of her own life and becoming the lawyer she’d always wanted to be.

Even though she’d passed the bar, it had been a while since she’d practiced law. She’d graduated Harvard Law School at age twenty-four, after intense years of full-time study. She’d racked up wins in a few impressive cases after law school, been promoted to full junior partner and called an up-and-coming, promising lawyer to watch. Then Kyle Jones had swept into her life and swept her off her feet. He’d insisted that she quit work and stay home once they were married.

She’d become pregnant with Bella, and not once had she regretted those years of “being home” with her child. But she was thirty-four now, and getting a late start. So if Lancaster and Morris had hired her only because they needed a Spanish-speaking female, fine. If they’d made her full partner only because it gave them much-needed diversity, so be it. This job had gotten her foot back in the proverbial door. Working meant being her own independent woman. It was a first step, and she’d take advantage of it. She didn’t know where she’d go from here, but she knew it would be up.

“Mr. Morris. Good morning,” she said.

He gripped her hand and then placed his left hand on top. “Christina, welcome. We are extremely delighted you’re onboard. Your unique talents are going to win this case for our clients and for us. I have a premonition of great things ahead. Let me introduce you to all the senior partners.”

“I apologize that I’m a few minutes late.” Christina had learned that it was always better to be direct.

The corners of his eyes twinkled slightly. “Let me guess. You changed your clocks.”

“Yes,” she admitted.

He chuckled and patted her hand before he let it go. “Everyone who moves to Indiana makes that mistake the first year. Consider it a rite of passage or a bit of Hoosier State training. Of course, the legislature recently passed a law so that in 2006 the whole state will be on one time zone. Details to follow in April. We’re this way.”

“SO, ARE YOU READY to meet your new boss?”

“Lousy timing, Colin,” Bruce said as his best friend peeled himself off the door frame and entered Bruce’s office.

“When’s the meeting?” Colin asked.

Bruce turned his attention back to the mound of papers on his desk. Even though his paralegal had faxed or couriered everything important to Indianapolis each day, the paperwork had multiplied while he’d been gone. “The big powwow started already. I’m not welcome until nine.”

Colin winced. “Oh. That sucks. Even though you have to work with your new boss, you don’t get to greet this person until later. Man, that’s not fair. You should have been named a partner this year. Now me—I know I’ve got a way to go. I barely passed the bar, much to my father’s disappointment. He claimed my grandfather was probably rolling in his grave.”

“Bar scores are irrelevant. You passed. Besides, it’s not like you had to worry about finding a job. You’re a Morris and you were coming to work here.”

“Exactly. And you’re a fourth-generation Lancaster lawyer who scored the highest possible on the state bar that year and who has won some pretty impressive cases already. Your grandfather loves you. Your greatgrandfather would if he were around. Heck, even my dad loves you, which is why I don’t understand his decision. You should have been named full partner, also. To be passed over by someone outside just so the firm can claim diversity…well, I see it as an affront. And by a babe, too.”

“Babe?” The word caught Bruce’s attention. He put aside his legal brief and swiveled as Colin closed the office door. Bruce had to admit he hadn’t really been listening. When Colin got on a roll, he could be as long-winded as Bruce’s grandfather Roy. Bruce had learned to tune both men out.

“What do you mean, babe?” Bruce asked. “Some babe shot you down? You never lose out with women.”

“Top of the bar exam, but still, as always, a lousy listener. You’d think as your best friend I’d be used to it by now. I even notice things like your shirts, which by the way your new tailor did a great job on. So tell me, how did we survive rooming together all those years in college? Anyway, I’m not talking about my women, though later I’ll have to tell you about Gina.”

Bruce arched his brow. “Gina?”

“Gina,” Colin accented the capital letter G and made the shape of a woman’s curves with his hands. “She even taught this dog some new tricks.”

Bruce waved his own hand dismissively. He and Colin had always been confidants—sharing secrets and drowning sorrows when needed. “Okay, Gina later. If you weren’t talking about her earlier, then who?”

“Oh, yeah, the new babe. Our new partner. Christina.”

“Christina?” Bruce frowned as disquiet stole over him.

“Yeah, Christina Jones. Kyle Jones’s ex-wife. You know, the Cincinnati Bengals’ tight end?”

“She’s our new partner? Chris Jones is a female?” Bruce’s grandfather had had it all wrong. Bruce instantly knew that had been deliberate. Reginald Morris wasn’t a fool.

“Boy, you have been out of the loop up in Indy, haven’t you?” Colin checked to make sure no one could overhear him. “She’s one hot mama, if you get my drift. You know how I am with women. I’ve got to behave myself or I’ll end up being part of that sexual harassment suit you both will be working on.”

Colin attracted women like a magnet, but Bruce didn’t care about that. Bruce had worked on cases with females before, and all had been totally professional. If his new boss were Miss America, it wouldn’t matter.

But the fact that the senior partners had hired a female as full partner, instead of him, stung once again. However, he’d rise above this blow to his damaged male ego.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said,” Colin chastised.

“Uh, no,” Bruce admitted. “I’m rather tired. I had a late call. Kitchen fire. A fry pan gone wild.”

Colin rolled his eyes. Unlike Bruce, he’d avoided volunteering. “Lovely. How about we meet for a cocktail tonight at the country club. Say about five? I’ll be over at the Ripley County Courthouse all day, doing closing arguments for the Watson case.”

“That’s fine. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Or if you need resuscitation after you see your new boss,” Colin said. And with that he opened Bruce’s office door. “Oh. Hey, Angela.”