Just Be True To Me

“I’ve hired a new attorney. It’s someone you should be familiar with.” Clifford’s driver whispered something in his ear. “I apologize, we’ll have to cut this short. I have an important meeting to get to.”

“No name?” Brandon asked. Not getting an answer, he asked for the name of the law firm, getting the same result.

Mia’s chest deflated in satisfaction.

“Girl, I thought you was about to be famous.” Tamara stuffed what remained on her plate in her mouth, the words that followed unintelligible. Swallowing hard, she guzzled down her glass of water, using the back of her arm to wipe her mouth. “Now that you know he’s your client for sure, you wanna do this the usual way? I brought my computer, I can start searching for his friends and family.”

The number one rule of being an effective attorney was to always assume the client was lying about and hiding something. In most cases, Mia would send Tamara off to sniff out the client’s secrets, which she would then use to confront them. But for some reason, she decided to trust Clifford. Recalling the straightforward way in which he’d described their relationship, she didn’t see any reason why he would lie. After all, everything they spoke about was protected under attorney client privilege. She was pretty good at keeping secrets anyway.

“I know he got some stuff buried deep.” Tamara rubbed her hands together, wearing the look of an evil genius. She hopped up. “I’m gonna go get my computer.”

Mia stopped her. There was no hope in pulling her back down. Holding onto to her wrist caused her to stretch across the couch. The arm rubbing harshly against her ribs was effective in convincing her to let go. She was sitting with her legs pulled into her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them.

Prying was a part of the job, she needed to know everything about a client. The process would usually take place before she even decided to take a person on. Though she was a damn good lawyer, she leaned on Milton’s advice that the best lawyers, the ones with the best winning percentage, chose winnable cases. She was sure he had the old adage work smarter not harder tattooed somewhere on his body. While she was confident that she could win the case, she wasn’t as certain as usual. Managing to convince herself that she going to have to dig into him, she loosened up, releasing her hold on her legs and stretching them to the floor.

Tamara’s fingers worked the keys like a master pianist. Her eyes remained glued to the screen, sliding from left to right, easing their way down the pages that were lucky enough to be selected.

Mia dipped her bottom lip.

“Asshole.”

“You’re just so cute when you’re focused.”

Tamara retorted with s*xual innuendo, letting it be known that she accepted favors as payment. “And I’m talking about the handsome white daddy.”

Mia thanked God as she stretched. She realized long ago that Tamara worked best when someone wasn’t looking over her shoulder. In her bathroom, she started a bath. She’d established the weekly ritual of cleansing her aura in preparation for a new case. She needed to be holistically free in mind, body, and spirit.

The Epsom salt dissolved as soon as it hit the water. The fresh sweet scent wasted no time in attaching itself to the steam. The heat bit into her ankle as she eased her foot in. She couldn’t help but make comparisons between the bath and Clifford’s case. Seemingly transparent, but she really didn’t know what she was getting herself into. It would only be a matter of time before something from his past or a secret he failed to divulge or information that made him look guilty latched onto her, slowly eating away at her, like the heat. But there was a silver lining. So long as she moved slow—with caution—she was able to limit the heat’s effects

Dipping her foot into the tub, she lowered herself down, continuing to descend until the water hit just underneath her collar bones. She closed her eyes and touching the tip of her index finger and thumb together, she inhaled deeply, sinking just a bit deeper.

Five minutes hadn’t passed when the floor began rumbling—Tamara’s steps. Their speed was indicative of her excitement.

Mia was already peeking out of one eye when the door opened. She sat up upon seeing the concern etched in Tamara’s eyes. Her drooping lips added to the effect. She stretched for the drain plug.

“No, don’t get out.” She took a seat on the toilet. The computer lid snapped into place after she closed it. Resting her elbows on top of it, she supported her chin on her fists.

“Nothing?”

“Sorry. It’s like he swept everything before the last two years.”

“Guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way.”

Tamara met her gaze. “Torture. Or find an ex-girlfriend.” Her chin dropped. “I didn’t find much on them. Money is powerful.”

Mia stood, catching the towel Tamara threw. “So is information. I’ll just have to get it from him.” With Tamara on her heels, she found her phone and dialed Clifford’s number. Getting right to the point, she said, “I need about three hours of your time. I don’t care about when or where. Clear space and let me know.” She hung up and turned to find Tamara smiling.

She began a slow clap. “I wanna be like you when I grow up. That’s the way you handle a man that has everything.”

“Shut up.”

“No, for real, I’ve seen things. Men like that, deep down, want to be dominated.”

Mia hunched her shoulders. Whereas she usually took Tamara’s insights with a grain of salt, this one in particular made sense. “Sounds right.”

“Of course it does. I know what the hell I’m talking about.” Confidence renewed, she sat back down on the couch and opened the lap top. Her fingers went to work immediately.

Mia put the sandwich she made in plain view. Tamara didn’t blink as her lips pressed into the side of her head. Her sign of love and appreciation was met with a grunt and a lazy hand wave. She warned her not to stay up too late and to wake her up before she left.

The house felt empty when she awoke. Mia found a note on the counter while making a pot of coffee. She huffed as her phone began ringing. Waiting until the third ring, it stopped just as she reached her bedroom. A voicemail caused it to vibrate in her hand.

Ms. Bishop, as per your request I’ve made some room in my schedule for us to meet. I also realized that you didn’t give me a reason. Call me back to confirm. Don’t make me wait, time is money. Have a productive day.

Remembering Tamara’s advice about him wanting to be dominated, she tossed the phone in the pillows. “I’ll call you when I call you.”

Although she was only an hour into her day, Mia felt that she already had a strangle hold on it. She’d examined Clifford’s case forwards and backwards by the time she’d reached her desk and had gotten two associates to begin putting together motions.

His business card sat in the middle of her desk. A sudden urge to call him arose. She tossed the idea of calling him back and forth, ultimately deciding against it, not wanting to give away the power she’d just gained. While she had the power, she had nothing else. Boredom set in a minute later. Just when her will power began to wane, her assistant, Virgil, knocked on the door.