Page 10 of The Wrong Side of the Law

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Cooper,” she says. “I really appreciate it. I can tell you’re busy.”

“Oh, believe me, I appreciate it even more,” I tell her, shaking my head and smiling wryly at the redhead across my mountain of work. “When you get to the point that you feel you can’t even spend the time to interview an assistant, that’s when you know you can’t affordnotto spend the time on it.”

“That sounds like something my father would have said,” she laughs.

“I got it from Lisa,” I say, opening the folder up and focusing on the resume. If I’m going to stare at something—and I know I’m going to stare—I’d be best off staring at her information rather than at her. “And she probably learned it from him.”

Emily laughs, filling the room with a warm glow. Or is that just me?

“How do you know Barbara?” I ask.

“Oh, through Lisa and my dad. She was almost like part of the family, back in the day,” Emily says. “She’s such a lovely, kind person. So sweet.”

Sweet? Do we know the same Barbara Randolph? But then, that weird, random smile. Maybe she’s just that different outside of work? I’ll let that pass, for now. Someday, though, I gotta meetthatBarbara Randolph.

“Lisa thinks very highly of you, from what she wrote here.”

“She’s been so helpful,” Emily says. “I don’t think I’d have even gotten a single interview, without her.”

“She’s not generous with her time,” I say, looking back at Lisa’s letter of recommendation. “Except, of course, when someone really deserves it. So you must.” I smile to myself, remembering back when I started. “She was still here when I joined the SA’s office, and she was an absolute godsend. Never looked down on the newbies, treated everyone with respect.” Respect, yes. But Lisa didn’t suffer fools. She’d just… be respectful about it. “I think she must have had a rather exceptional mentor, herself. Back when she was just starting out in the law.”

“She did,” Emily says. “She did. Did you know my father?”

“I met Francis a couple times, but that was it. I know how Lisa looked up to him, though.” I tap the paper again, pointing at one particular line. “Lisa was very clear about who you are. She was just as clear that she was recommending you on your own merits, and not because you’re Francis Wilson’s daughter.”

Emily nods, waiting for me to continue. Smart girl: attorneys love to listen to themselves talk. Some are so in love with the sound of our own voices that we’ll fall in love with anyone who listens quietly and never tries to say anything meaningful.

I’m not one of those attorneys. Not yet, anyway.

“I never had the chance to get to know him,” I say, “but I’ve heard plenty about your dad. There’s still people around who worked with him. Barbara, for one. Lot of people who wished that he’d have run for State Attorney.”

“He liked the work,” Emily says. “The legal work, I mean. What he didn’t like was the political games. The internal stuff. He didn’t like to play office politics.”

I frown slightly. Emily doesn’t look away.

“Did I say something inappropriate?”

“No, no. Not at all.” I shake my head, holding up a reassuring hand. “You were refreshingly candid. And that scored you at least a point or two.”

A huge smile lights up her face, and the warm glow is back. I can feel my ears getting hot. My God. She’s absolutely beautiful.

“I tend to be very straightforward,” she confesses. “But I do know how to keep my mouth shut when I need to.” Her grin turns wry. “That lesson took a while, but I’ve got it solid. And of course, I do know that if I come to work here, I’m not always going to be able to speak my mind.”

“But today?” I ask, teasing her just a bit. “Today’s not one of those days?”

“No. Not today,” she says. “Today, I owe it to both of us to be myself. My best self, sure, but myrealself. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us, otherwise.”

“Ten points to Gryffindor,” I say. “For extraordinary perceptiveness, and a well-crafted truth.”

She smiles again.

“Anyway. I have no doubt that you could handle the job, here. I mean, it’s going to be boring stuff, mostly. Important, but boring. Paperwork. Maybe a case brief or two. Scheduling. Prioritizing what gets through to me. Your background is very impressive,” I tell her, tapping my finger at each point as I go. “Summa cum laude at Miami, top marks so far at NYU law. Summers spent interning at your father’s law firm in high school and college.”

“Yeah,” she says. “I learned a lot there, and it was a big help when I was at law school.” Emily’s eyes are distant; her voice, wistful. Loss. Her father is gone, but from her phrasing it sounds like law school is lost, too.

“So what happened? With grades like yours, you’d be on track to a first-rate law firm and partner by thirty.” Best to rip the Band-Aid off clean, get the subject out in the open, but if I’m going to hire Emily Wilson—and it certainly seems like Barbara’s going to make sure I do hire her—I need to know what’s going on. “Most people like you aren’t going to suddenly drop it all for a government paralegal job.”

“Life happened,” she says, flinching and looking away. The light in her eyes is different—happy sparkles are turned to fury.

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