Page 17 of The Suit

I wasn’t about to tell her that my client didn’t give a shit about the money, she did, however, give a shit about what a poor excuse for a human being her husband was.

“Well, we’ll stick with seven hundred and fifty million if it’s all the same to you. I know that money exists Beulah and if you don’t produce it by the end of the week, we’ll go to…”

“Latham, twenty million is an incredibly generous settlement and you know it,” she spat.

I sat back down at my desk, flicking through the files Sabrina had left. I groaned silently. I was going to have to put in extra time to get this wrapped up soon; I had other clients who needed my attention.

“Nothing is generous enough when they’ve had to live with Maynard for twenty years. Restitution alone for having to have sex with him should be nine figures, minimum. The man is hideous.”

“You’re pushing your luck, Latham. She’s going to get nothing if you keep this up. You’re doing your client a disservice; take the money and then we can all move on with our lives.”

Ididwant to move on with my life. Or rather continue with my regular life, without her in it. But unfortunately for me, I’d made a promise to my mother.

And I never broke my promises.

“Seven fifty, or I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I could see my smirk in the reflection of the polished copper floor light, as she was silent once more.

“Oh, Beulah?” I asked before she could hang up.

“Yes?”

“Remember that time in second year when Professor Granton held our mock trials, and put us up against each other?”

She didn’t reply, but I knew there was no way she’d have forgotten, so I continued.

“And as the trial went on it became clear that the case was moving in my favor, so you had one of our mock jurors followed around campus to see if there was any way a mistrial could be declared? Poor Amy Jenkins was genuinely terrified she’d attracted a stalker and reported it to campus security.” I started laughing as the visual of our usually mild-mannered professor puffing in anger flashed in my mind. “Professor Granton was so mad, remember that? Remember how he yelled at you in front of the class for being… what was it… oh yesunprofessional and an embarrassment to the rules of the mock court,and knocked off a grade from your paper? I was so shocked; really, genuinely shocked. It was the first time a professor had shown anything but adoration for their little teacher’s pet that I went straight to the Queen’s Head and bought a round of drinks for everyone in there. What a great day that was.”

Only the annoyed breathing at the end of the line told me she was still there. I could picture her merlot-colored lips pursing as she listened. I wondered if I’d managed to make a dent in her perfectly smooth brow. I’d even settle for a wrinkle or crease on her plump tawny skin as she narrowed her eyes at me, eyes - the exact same color as a pair of citrine earrings my father had given my mother one Valentine’s – that flared like actual fire whenever she looked at me. And I could hear the drumming of her fingers on the table start up, just like she’d done yesterday, just as she’d done in college.

“Hope you remember that feeling, Holmes, because you’re not going to win this one either. We will get our settlement, so you go back and tell your client to stick his twenty million up his ass, along with the townhouse. But, you know, in your own words obviously. Either cough up seven fifty, or we’re coming for the rest.”

The dead tone sounded out; she’d finally hung up.

4

Beulah

Asteaming cup of coffee was placed on the desk in front of me, and I looked up to find Blake staring down.

“Rafe Latham is here. He’s been waiting in the boardroom for five minutes.”

I looked at the clock; it was ten after which meant he’d been five mins late, again.

Fucker.

“I didn’t say this before, but he is H O T. Did you see those muscles when he took his jacket off the other day? And, ugh, those eyes. Yummy.”

The look I served Blake would have had most people running off in tears, but unfortunately, it never had any effect on my current target.

“Anyway, I’ve made the assumption we’re likely going to be here beyond the weekend, so I took the liberty of calling the New York Children’s Hospital. I had Chicago call ahead so they were expecting me, and they said you’d be welcome to pop in any time. I told them Saturday morning would be most likely.”

My shoulders both tensed and relaxed at the same time. I didn’t want to be here on Saturday, but I also didn’t want to miss my weekend sessions at the hospital, even if it wasn’t my usual location.

“Thank you.” I stood up and peeked out of the door, down toward the end of the hallway where I could see the boardroom, and the back of Rafe Latham - but no one else.

For fuck’s sake, why?! Why did he insist on coming solo when he had an entire firm at his disposal? Almost more people than I did. He wasn’t going to win any fucking prizes for doing it by himself, like some fucking legal savior.

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