Page 30 of Passionate Defense

“I am all yours, then, oh wise one,” Lanie said with a dramatic flair. “I’m young, teachable, and pliable like clay. Mold me.”

“I can hardly wait to get started.” Vicky hooted with glee. Arm in arm, they found their husbands, both women smiling over the new bond of friendship they had formed outside the stalls in the ladies’ room at the Top of the Hub, of all places.

Chapter 8

WORKING ON ACCOUNTSreceivable late one afternoon, which was a refreshing change from case law review and writing briefs and motions, Lanie paused as she came across a cream-colored check with calla lilies in the background. She smiled, remembering fondly the first time she’d seen one just like it.

Within a few months of hanging out their shingle, Lanie and Beth’s small practice was already thriving. They took out a few strategically placed ads, but most people learned about them by word of mouth. Although women made up most of their caseload, they didn’t exclude male clients if they felt they could adequately represent them with a good outcome. Between Lanie’s expertise as a litigator and Beth’s business law proficiency, they took almost every referral. The exception—family law—which both women steered clear of because of the high emotional stakes, especially with children involved.

That they were actually in private practice and their own bosses didn’t feel real to either of them until their first payment for services rendered—hand written on cream-colored calla lily checks—arrived in the mail.

“Pinch me,” Beth had stated from her doorway.

Lanie looked up from her research, frowning at her partner’s oddly dazed expression. “What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing, Ms. Doom and Gloom.” She held up an envelope and what was clearly a check. “We just got paid. This is actually happening. Pinch me,” she demanded again.

Lanie was out of her chair and across the room. She snatched the check from Beth’s fingers to see for herself. “Holy crap,” she whispered, staring at the five-figure amount printed next to the line that readpay to the order of Fischer and Anderson, Attorneys at Law.

The women stared at one another in stunned silence, the only sound in the room the ticking of the vintage clock on the wall. Then, at the exact moment, they grinned broadly and jumping up and down, hugged each other.

In the weeks and months that followed, many more checks arrived in the daily mail, and accounts receivable quickly outpaced their expenses. Lanie still tracked the cash flow and obsessively crunched all the numbers. Ethan kept telling her they were a success and she could rest easy, but that wasn’t in her DNA, apparently.

Their first staff hire was a legal secretary. Soon after they added a receptionist because the phone rang constantly. For all the name-calling and threats she received after the Deevers acquittal, his conviction in Texas only added to the flurry of phone calls. Potential new clients asked specifically for Deevers’ attorney. According to Penny, who manned the phones, many asked for her by the unflattering nickname the media insisted on using, demanding the Ice Queen represent them.

Because of their hectic schedules, with Lanie in court often and both having countless consultations, the new partners didn’t see each other much during work hours. Therefore, they made a point of getting together for social time often and naturally, included their husbands. They went out together at least once a week; to dinner, the theater, and sailing in the Anderson’s catamaran on Dorchester Bay. They also expanded their circle of close friends to include the Studors since the three couples had so much in common.

When it was just the girls, they invited Victoria whenever possible. They took time for coffee or shopping if they had a free afternoon. Since a spare moment, let alone lunch, was often impossible during the day, they started a once-a-month girls’ night out. Most often it was nothing more than dinner and a chick flick, but occasionally, they got a bit more adventurous and had drinks at a club with live music, or they took in a concert.

The positive changes in Lanie’s life, a wonderful marriage to a passionate man, shorter work hours, which meant more time with said passionate man, a solid group of friends, and a new sense of freedom from becoming her own boss, decreased her stress level considerably. Another crucial element she couldn’t overlook, adopting the Ethan Fischer stress management method.

Having embraced their new dynamic, they found it fulfilling and, truth be told, fun. Apart from the one real punishment, exploration of their redefined roles was mostly confined to the bedroom, where they discovered a mutual fondness for role-play. Ethan, with his exceptionally creative mind, excelled at it.

The sound of a door closing down the hall snapped Lanie back to the present. She glanced at the clock and felt a surge of urgency as she realized it was past quitting time. She put aside the stack of checks she was entering into her bookkeeping program and shut down her computer. With a heavier workload lately, she’d been getting home past seven. It had been almost eight o’clock three nights in a row.

Ethan had cautioned against pushing herself too hard and neglecting her own well-being, not to mention him. He suggested adding staff. When she hemmed and hawed, worried about their bottom line, he recommended a meeting with her accountant. While she still had doubts, he left the decision up to her, but promised to intervene if she didn’t slow down. Knowing full well what that meant, she quickly got on board with the plan and scheduled a meeting with Beth and their financial advisor. She also agreed to adjust her work schedule.

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