Page 25 of The Interns

Johnson sat still in his chair, taking a moment to let the news sink in. And once it had, he reached for an unopened beer on the side table beside him, gripping it tightly in his hand as his face contorted in anger. He cursed under his breath, then slammed the can back down on the table before going still in his chair again.

“We think you have a case here, Mr. Johnson,” Maya said quietly, his anger, again, eliciting a calming tone from her.

“I told you, I don’t have the money,” he yelled, letting them get the brunt of his frustrations. “And even if I did, those two are in cahoots with every cop, councilman, and business owner in this entire county and the next two over. I wouldn’t stand a chance,” he finished, the fire in his eyes giving way to resignation.

“This is bigger than small town alliances,” she urged, her voice steady and soft, but impassioned. Maya took a step closer to Johnson, bending her knees slightly to bring her to his eye level. “You may have your tool in your possession now, but they stole your work and ideas and stand to make a lot of money from it. Money that should go in your pocket.”

“Half of which would go to you.” He snorted.

“No,” she answered firmly. “We don’t want a penny of your money.”

“I don’t get it. Why go to all the trouble?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” she answered. Her lips then curled into a smile. “Also, now is probably a good time to tell you that we’re not actually lawyers, so we can’t charge anyway.”

Reed let out a small laugh. She was pretty damn good at this. It was a smart approach, if she hadn’t won him over with her emotional appeal, maybe honesty would work, as unflattering as it was for them. One of the many things he had come to admire about Maya was that she was not fake, in fact she was as real as they came, but her truths sometimes came out with a bite, sharp and sarcastic. When the truth was delivered with tenderness, however, it hit harder than any barb she could throw.

“For fuck’s sake, you two,” he muttered.

“But we’re working with one of the best lawyers in the country,” Reed assured him as he joined Maya, “and I promise we’ll do right by you. All you have to do is say the word.”

Johnson let out a sigh as he stared at them. Yes, they were young and inexperienced and annoying the hell out of him, but they were committed. And smart. Smarter than the young assholes he used to work with, at least. As it stood, Johnson had nothing. No job, no income, and no hope of getting work in the area anytime soon.

“Fine.”

“Thank you for trusting us with your case, Mr. Johnson,” Maya said, relief and excitement in her voice.

Johnson snorted in the face of her earnest response. Trust was a bit of an overstatement since the man had nothing to lose, but this was really a win for everyone. Johnson had a shot at getting his product and then some back, Maya got her intellectual property case, and Reed got to take on small town corruption. And he also had the pleasure of seeing more of the Maya he liked so much.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do on our end now, but we’ll be in touch with updates,” she said.

Johnson gestured to his grand surroundings. “I’ll be here.”

Maya gave him a smile then looked at Reed and nodded toward the door. He was sure she was eager to get back to the city and back to work, but he had other ideas. Reed stopped and turned. “Say, Mr. Johnson, where’s the closest bar?”

“Ain’t it a little early to be celebratin’?” he asked with his default dryness.

“Trust me, we’re not,” Reed said with a laugh. “We’re gonna get right to work, actually.”

“Whatever you say. Go back toward the main road, hang a left, and it’s about a mile down.”

“Thank you, sir.”

When he turned around, he came face to face with Maya’s incredulous stare. She hurried him out the door and once it was closed, she stopped and folded her arms across her chest.

“A bar?”

“Yeah, a bar, Hendricks. Every small town’s got one, and it’s just about quittin’ time, so it should be full of interesting people.” He kept walking towards the truck.

“Quittin’ time?” Her voice went up nearly a full octave with that one.

“Just trust me.”

10

Maya

As soon as Maya and Reed walked into the bar, she spotted them. Damn, he was good. She tugged on Reed’s sleeve and nodded toward a group of men, all around her and Reed’s age, who were sitting around a few tables that had been pushed together in the back of the bar. All were dressed in their matching navy-blue work pants and shirts with the Prescott Family Plumbing insignia stitched over the pockets on the right side of their chests, loudly cutting up over a few pitchers of beer. What were the odds? Apparently pretty good in a small town.

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