Love Proof (Laws of Attraction) - By Elizabeth Ruston Page 0,49

see you right now,” Sarah’s mother said. “Look how beautiful you are. He probably hates having to take a few days off. I’ll bet he wishes all the time the two of you were still together.”

“He doesn’t,” Sarah said, wanting to shut down the topic once and for all. “We’re opponents, Mom, that’s all. It’s business. Lawyers have to deal with this all the time. Sometimes you get along with the attorney on the other side, sometimes you don’t. But everyone’s just working their cases and trying to win. I’m sure Joe and I will never even run into each other after this is all over. It’ll be like it never happened.”

Sarah’s mother humpfed, but then went back to tending her turkey. She could speculate all she wanted about what was going on in Joe Burke’s mind at that very moment, as long as they didn’t have to talk about it anymore.

Sarah mashed the potatoes, wishing she weren’t wondering the same thing.

Twenty

“There she is!” Paul Chapman bellowed when Sarah walked into the room. “Heard you lost your cookies. Hope it wasn’t something I said.”

Sarah gave him an unfriendly smile and greeted Marcela instead.

“Thanks for your help last week,” Sarah told her.

“No problem,” Marcela said. “You looked awful.”

“All better now, though,” Sarah said cheerfully. “Burke.” She nodded to her opponent.

“Sarah.”

Joe’s client sat at attention, hands clasped tightly in front of her, face tense with anxiety. Joe whispered to the woman, and she nodded stiffly. Sarah felt badly for her. She knew how stressful legal proceedings could be for people outside the profession. Many times she imagined her own parents having to sit through a deposition or a trial and having to face someone like Sarah whose sole goal was to pick their testimony apart and make sure they lost.

But no matter how much sympathy she had for the woman across from her—particularly since Sarah could still see the damage the hair iron had done to the woman’s head—she knew it was Joe’s job, not hers, to make his client feel better.

“Everybody ready?” Chapman asked. Marcela began typing as Chapman introduced himself for the record.

Then the new workweek began. “Ms. Hopkins, where were you born?”

***

Sarah had packed better for Montana. She checked the weather in Missoula ahead of time, saw that it would be cold and rainy, and packed tights to wear under all her suits, a full-length raincoat that would cover her past her knees, and the hat and gloves she’d picked up at the Walmart in Salt Lake City. She was done seeming frail and incompetent, too stupid to anticipate the conditions and know how to keep herself insulated and dry.

She also packed a set of resistance bands she borrowed from Angie so she could do some strength-training in her room in addition to running on hotel treadmills every morning. She needed to reclaim her healthy body. Needed to regain her balance.

With Joe as much as anything else.

It was the last week in November already, which meant she had survived eight full weeks of their grueling pace on the road. Montana and back to Utah and on to Idaho this week, Oregon next, then Washington and Minnesota before they all took a holiday break. A week and a half off, then back to work in January.

Looking at the schedule, Sarah couldn’t imagine how Mickey’s boss thought she’d be done by the end of February. Sarah always knew she wouldn’t be traveling to every single state—that would have taken months and months more, and the class certification hearing was already set for March—but still, now that she was on the hunt, she wished she could gather as much information as possible.

Maybe another temporary attorney in her position wouldn’t have bothered working the case so hard, but Sarah couldn’t help it. She needed to go for the A. It had nothing to do with beating Burke any more, and everything to do with her own pride and satisfaction.

Sarah asked her questions, and they let Ms. Hopkins go. Chapman had been speedier this time, and it was only eleven o’clock when they took their break.

“Wow, at this rate,” Sarah said, “we could actually fit in three depositions every day.” She said it sarcastically, but she was really feeling out the room.

When neither Chapman nor Burke took the bait, Sarah said, “I’m serious. Let’s think about adding more depos. I’d like to make it to the east coast by mid-January.”

“Why?” Joe asked.

Sarah turned to face him. He looked tired. He’d looked tired all morning.

“I’d

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