had me removed from the courtroom and threatened me with contempt of court.
In the end, my client was handed six months in jail and a 3,500-dollar fine. It was way over the top for a first-time offender, but I knew arguing about it would only land me beside my less than an honest client.
To top it off, his rich mommy and daddy were waiting to tear me a new one for allowing their poor baby boy to go to jail. I had held my hand up when Mrs. Taylor began to screech at an uncomfortable volume about how she would tell everyone what a horrible attorney I was.
“Hold it right there,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. Mrs. Taylor looked ready to chew nails, but I wouldn’t stand there and take her abuse.
Not today, Satan.
“I’m the best fucking lawyer in the state. Ask anyone. Maybe you need to talk to your perfect boy about being forthright and open, and then maybe he wouldn’t be rotting in jail for the next six months. Now, we can appeal to the sentencing. I plan to start that when I get back to the office. But if you think you can find someone better, go for it. It’ll make all our lives easier. And if you think I overcharged you given the hours I put in, which I can I assure you I undercharged you for, then sue me. I’ll be happy to see you in court.” I gripped my briefcase in my hand so hard it almost snapped.
Mr. Taylor shushed his wife and attempted to placate the situation. “No, we want you to stay on the case. Please file for an appeal. We’ll call you later in the week. And thank you for everything you’ve done for our boy.”
Still simmering with rage, I shook his hand, ignored his harpy wife, and headed back to the office.
I could see Meg on the side of the building, at least twenty feet in the air as I came down the street. She was putting the final touches on the massive maple tree that ran along the left side. Seeing the finished product twisted my chest, and I couldn’t deal with all of the messed-up crap in my head.
Without bothering to say anything to her, I walked through the waiting area, past Lena, who looked up at me in alarm. I ignored Jeremy, who called out after me. I pushed open my door and all but slammed it shut behind me. I threw the briefcase across the room and fell into my chair, bracing my elbows on the desk, my head in my hands.
I picked up the pile of messages Lena had left for me. Chelsea had called three times. I balled up the slips of paper and threw them in the trash without bothering to look at the rest.
There was a hesitant knock on my door. Lena poked her head in. “Court go badly?” she asked, not stepping inside. She knew when I was in a mood it was best to stay away.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”I leaned back and closed my eyes. My head was pounding.
“Um, Meg is out here. She wants you to have a look at the mural, to get your approval before she finishes up. I told her I’d see if you were busy, but she’s getting ready to head out for some more paint, so I thought I’d see if you had a minute.”
Suddenly I couldn’t be there. I stood up and walked past Lena. Meg was talking to Robert, her long, lean legs flecked with paint, her hair held back in a messy bun.
What was I going to do when she left?
“Where are you going?” Lena asked, hurrying after me.
“Cancel my appointments for the afternoon. Say I got sick. I’ve got to get out of here.” I met Meg’s eyes. Hers crinkled in concern.
I wanted to tell her to come with me. That I needed her. But that was a lot of my problem, so I didn’t say a word to her. Instead, I walked out the door and headed to my car. I immediately turned off my phone and peeled away from the curb. I thought about heading home. Maybe work out a little while. Maybe read a book or something. But none of those ideas appealed to me.
So I made a turn down a side street and drove out of town.
Eventually, I was driving along a potholed country lane, my car seesawing every time the