the lodge on the bay, and I’ll be taking some classes at the community college.”
“Which one? My aunt works at Banyon.”
“I’ll be at San Mateo, starting in about three weeks.” He laughed. “We don’t have much time, Livvie. Will you come down tonight?”
“I think so,” she said, smiling in spite of herself.
* * *
Justine had emailed Scott a copy of her pay stub and no check for the month of June. Her itemized statement had been prepared by Sam’s accountant; it showed her billable hours, her deductions and her pay for the part of the month she had worked. It was practically nothing. Scott called and asked her what was up with that. “I’ve barely started here,” she said. “It will take a while to build a clientele.”
“Didn’t you at least get a severance package from Sharper Dynamic?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I resigned rather than accept a big salary cut.”
“Great,” he said, disgruntled. And he hung up.
July hadn’t been much better, but then not only did she not have a large number of clients, it also took a while to complete legal work and do the billing.
“A lawyer can usually expect it to be at least ninety days between legal work and payment. The billing alone takes a good month, and that’s after the work is done,” she explained to Scott.
Toward the end of August, Justine was in her office when the office manager, Charlene, asked her if she had time to see a Mr. Scott Somersby. Charlene was frowning.
“Sure,” Justine said.
Scott stood in her office door. This place suited her fine, but it was nothing like the office she’d left behind in Silicon Valley. Her office at Sharper Dynamic was intimidating and designed to be. This office was quaint and more welcoming.
“Hi, Scott. What are you doing here? You can just email or text me if you have a question.”
“The question is what the hell is up with your pay?”
“Well, as I’ve explained, my tenure is brand-new. I serve as an associate and need a lot of consultation with Mr. Gillespie to be sure I’m operating according to his established practices, and I don’t have many clients. But I’m sure it will grow. Given time.”
“I don’t have that much time,” he said. “I’m short of funds.”
“I gave you a very generous settlement,” she said. “You’re usually very good with money.”
“I still am, but I invested it and my cash flow is limited. I was counting on the monthly income. My money is not liquid.”
“Ah. I’m afraid I can’t help you there.” She squinted at him. “What’s that mark on your eyebrow? Looks like you’re imitating Jason Momoa.”
“Work injury. I was whacked by a kayak I was trying to hang up. We’re going to have to do something about the money.”
“Aren’t you making money at your new job? You are getting paid, aren’t you?”
“Of course! Look, we’re going to have to do something—refinance the house or get an equity line of credit or something. Either that or cut the child support.”
“Hmm. You should have a healthy bank account, Scott. Do you mind if I ask what you decided to invest in?”
“Yes, I mind!” he barked. “That’s not your concern! It’s enough that you realize I’m a little tight and having trouble with expenses and half the mortgage. Unless you start paying support, I’m not going to be able to pay the bills!”
“You’re going to have to leave now, Scott,” she said calmly. “I’ll call you after work to discuss this, but we can’t do it now. This is a law office, and the only people allowed outbursts in here are disgruntled clients. I’ll call you this evening.”
“Fine,” he said, clearly rattled.
Justine watched him go. She walked out into the reception area to note that he had driven from the kayak shack to her office.
“The ex?” Charlene asked.
“The one and only. I’ll speak to him tonight and make sure he understands he can’t bring our divorce business to this office.”