Page 72 of A Dead End Wedding

"Um, Max? Any chance you could teach Mr. Ellison how to use the intercom system, or at least the inter-office extension?"

"I. Can't. Teach. That. Old. Buzzard. Anything." I'd never heard someone swallow her own tongue before, but this sounded close. Max was normally so calm she made Prozac seem hyperactive. Ellison must have been seriously pushing her buttons.

She took a deep breath. "Sorry, December. I'll see what I can do. It's Sarah Greenberg, on line one for you, by the way. Snotty voice, good diction."

"Really? I was just talking about her. Well, being talkedat. The plot thickens, and all that mysterious crap. Thanks. And don't let Ellison get to you. Remember, you're better, you're stronger, and . . . um, you have more hair."

I disconnected the line quickly. That wassonot covered in the How to be a Good Employer manual. Taking my own deep breath, I pressed the blinking button with the big number one on it.See, evenIcan learn this system. It ought to be a breeze for a retired bus driver."December Vaughn."

". . . tell her I'm not putting up with her shit. Two point five million, and not a penny less, or my next phone call is to the press. Yes, December? Sorry about that. You kept me waitingfor so long, I had to discuss something with my secretary. So, welcome to the Florida bar, yada yada. You need to transfer the Deaver case to me."

5

Iheld the phone out and stared at it in disbelief.Wow. That was blunt.

"Hi, Sarah. You need to work on this problem you have with speaking your mind. Don't beat around the bush; just come right out and say what you think." I may have sounded just a teensy bit sarcastic.

She laughed, but it sounded brittle.Snotty with good dictionhad nailed her perfectly.

"Right. Sorry. I'm just so used to dealing with the big boys, and we don't play around making nice-nice. I heard you'd filed in the Deaver case, and I'm offering to help."

I jotted some important notes on a yellow legal pad.

1. BUY WHITE LEGAL PADS. I HATE YELLOW.

2. SARA(H?) GREENBERG—CHECK HER MARTINDALE HUBBELL

3.NICE-NICE?ARE WE BACK IN THIRD GRADE HERE?

"What is this town, Hotline Central? I filed that appearance just over an hour ago, and you're the second person to call me about it. Do you keep espionage agents on alert down at the courthouse?" I used my light, friendly, we're-all-in-the-same-treehouse voice as I doodled an angry face with ugly googly eyes next to item two.

Nice nice. Puh-leeze.

"Cute. I assume, being fresh out of law school, that you realize you're not anywhere near qualified to run a major drug case?"

Interesting. Almost the exact same words Langley used. Maybe they DO have a treehouse.

4. 411 ON LANGLEY-GREENBERG CONNECTION?

5. NEED TOILET TISSUE FOR HOUSE AND OFFICE. THE GOOD KIND—NO GENERIC!

"Fresh out of law school? Where do you get that assumption? My previous caller seemed to have the same idea."

"We researched you, December. You took the Florida bar last summer and were sworn in a few months ago. Am I wrong?"

6. I DON'T LIKE THIS WOMAN

"Nope. You're right."

"It's not exactly rocket science." She laughed again. Still brittle; enunciation getting a little clipped.

7. SHE DOESN'T LIKE ME, EITHER

I leaned back in my chair. "Except your information is a little off about the law school thing. I graduated eight years ago.Summa cum laude,actually, from Capital Law School in Columbus, Ohio, in case you want to check. Practiced in Ohio with True, Everett, and Johnson for eight years in the products liability department. Pharmaceuticals, to be precise."

There was a silence.

8. HER SILENCE SPOKE VOLUMES.

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