Page 78 of Don't Quit the Day Job

"Upholding what? Is she a judge?" Kingston barks, looking pissed. "Come on now, Max."

"Look, I don't think that you are?—"

"Do you think I didn't notice that you both walked in this morning at eleven AM, looking at each other like the cat that got the fucking cream?"

I just stare at him.

"I saw the smile you gave her, and how you whispered in her ear. Is some pussy worth?—"

"Max?"

There's a knock on the door a moment before Remy walks in.

"Oh."

"Hey, Kingston, Max. I was just coming to see…is everything okay?"

"I was just telling Max that he needs to figure out his life, because he's hired some chick that doesn't know shit about the law, and somehow she's put it in his head that we should not represent Jack Whittington, who owns freaking Jack’s Shacks. This is a company that could make us a shitload of money."

"And I'm telling you," I growl. "I don't want to be a firm that only cares about the money. I want to be a firm that also cares about the people. I'm not going to screw Mrs. Whittington out of alimony and a settlement that she should receive from her husband. Yeah, she slept with another man. Yeah, technically, that is cheating. But it's not cheating if your husband can't fucking get it up and says that it turns him on. It's not cool that he then goes behind her back and takes photographs of her with these other men. Come on, Kingston. Come on, Remy. Does that sound right to you?" I slam my fists down on the table and they both look at me.

"Okay," Kingston says, holding his hands up. "I admit, it’s not exactly above board. We don't know Jack's side, but?—"

"I met the man, okay? He's not a good guy. And I met the wife. We don't want to screw her just to get his business. I don't want to do it."

"Wow." Kingston looks at me in surprise. "I don’t know if that blonde has cast a spell on you or something, but this is not the business partner who had a quarterly meeting with me last month talking about profit over everything else."

"Well, maybe that's not the right motivation. Maybe we've been approaching everything the wrong way. We've got money. We've got enough money to live more than comfortably for the rest of our lives. We've got enough money that if we have kids, they'd be set for life. We are some of the best attorneys in the country. Do we want to be the sort of people that just do this to make more money, or do we want to make a difference in people's lives?"

"I didn't get into public interest law," Remy says, shaking his head. "I mean, granted, I could take a few more pro bono cases, but?—"

I chuckle slightly. "That's not what I'm saying. Look, I don't know what I'm saying. I'm just saying that I don't want to take the Jack Whittington case, and I do not want to ever hear you talking about Lila again." I level a glare at Kingston.

"Lila?" Remy says. "Your assistant?" He looks at me. "Wait, is that why you were late this morning?" He looks over at Kingston. "Holy shit, did they?—”

"We're not discussing this right now." I say. "It's none of your guys' business."

Kingston lets out a long sigh. "I should have known. I should have known from the first time I saw that woman that she was going to be trouble."

"She's the right kind of trouble though," I say with a chuckle, and he just grins.

"Remy, what have we done?"

"I don't know, but obviously there must be something special about her if Max is giving her the time of day. I mean, remember that hottie in the barn? He didn't even blink at her."

"Guys, I have work to do. I also need to get my place ready, because my sister Marie is actually getting into town earlier than I thought, so if you will excuse me, I will dismiss myself, okay?"

Kingston nods and I head out of the room, practically sprinting toward my office. I see Lila sitting there, scribbling something on a legal pad, and all I can think is that I want to take her into one of the storage rooms and fuck the living daylights out of her.

"Get your act together, Max," I say to myself.

"Hey," I say, as I stop by her desk.

She looks up with a happy little smile, but then her expression changes.

"Yes, Mr. Spector?"

"You don't have to call me Mr. Spector." I say, leaning down. "You can call me Max."

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