Page 23 of Home With You

She shoots me an angry look. "Are you saying men can't take care of children? That it's only a job for females?"

"No. I was just surprised." I keep quiet as we wait at the intersection for the walk sign. There's a coffee shop straight ahead. I hope that's the one we're going to. I don't want to continue this walk with her any longer than I have to. She stresses me out. I can't seem to say anything to her without making her angry.

When we're across the street, she says, "So about the case. It came in last week. The man owns a chain of luxury boutique hotels and is being sued by a customer who claims he injured himself when a stair broke."

"What do you mean it broke?"

"It was an outdoor staircase. The man claims the stair came loose because it wasn't secured properly. It broke off and the man tripped and tumbled down the stairs." She looks at me, her brows raised. "Allegedly."

"You're saying the guy lied?"

"I'm saying it's not our client's fault. The injured party is just looking to get rich off our client."

"Was the stair really not secured?"

"It doesn't matter. What matters is making sure our client is protected financially and that the reputation of his hotel chain isn't harmed."

"What about the guy who fell? What happened to him?"

"He broke his leg and a few ribs. He claims to have a head injury as well but I'm sure it's all a ploy to get more money."

"Is he better now?"

"He should be, but he's continuing to get care in an attempt to convince a judge he's suffering and will need to be compensated for that."

"Maybe he really IS suffering."

"Not as much as our client is suffering having to deal with this frivolous lawsuit."

The more she talks, the more I regret taking this job. I thought I'd be helping people. People who actually need help, not rich guys trying to get out of having to take responsibility for their mistakes. The hotel owner should've made sure the staircase was safe, and if it wasn't, he has to pay for the damage it caused. It's as simple as that. I know that's not how it works. I know both sides fight and the richest person usually wins but I don't want to fight for wins that aren't right. If I'd known I'd be working on cases like this, I never would've taken the job.

We're in the coffee shop now and the woman in front of us orders a pumpkin latte. It reminds me of last night, and of Raine and that beautiful smile of hers and the soft sound of her laugh.

"Do you think you can get that done before you leave today?" Lisa asks, and I realize I haven't been listening.

"Could you tell me again what you want done? I want to make sure I heard you right."

She sighs. "Wait until we sit down."

Sit down? I thought we were getting coffee, then leaving.

She orders a latte with five shots of espresso. That much caffeine would kill me but she drinks it down as if it's nothing. We sit at a table and she talks nonstop for ten minutes, detailing exactly how she wants the research done, telling me I'll have to redo it if I mess it up.

As we're walking back to the office, Lisa starts in again with her comments about the homeless.

"Look at him," she says pointing to a guy sleeping on the sidewalk. "People have to go out of their way to go around him. It's a public nuisance. I'm about ready to call the police and demand they deal with this."

"What would they do? The guy's not committing a crime."

"Loitering. Begging. Disturbing the peace. I'm sure they could find a suitable cause for arrest." Lisa stops suddenly at a trash can. "EXCUSE me."

There's someone blocking the trash can. A homeless woman. She has her hand all the way in the can, probably searching for food. I can't imagine living that way. Having to find food in the trash. Then having to eat it?

"There's another trash can down there," I say to Lisa, pointing to the one a few feet away.

Lisa ignores me and goes around to the other side of the can, holding her coffee cup up. "I need to throw this away."

The homeless woman slowly stands up. "Go ahead."

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