Page 32 of From the Courtroom to the Court
"I appreciate this one, I don't want to get into another complicated one in the meantime," the lawyer explains. "Though Claude knows that if he tries to screw me over, he'll be out the door."
Emma smiles mischievously. Generally, people think her cousin, the girl with the permanent smile, clumsy at sports and naturally kind, is a bit simple. This changes when they see her in court or when they try to pull one over on her. Emily is relentless and doesn't let anyone walk all over her.
"I'm leaving now, you know I like to arrive with time to spare," Emily says goodbye and leaves the office.
She locates her car and gets in. Normally she would walk to the courthouse, which is just a few blocks away, but when she has training at the Walker Elite Sport Club, it's better to take her vehicle because she'll need to drive about twenty minutes afterward.
When she arrives at the courthouse, her client is waiting for her. She notices a nervousness in him that he struggles to hide. He's a young man, though with a tired appearance. He's dressed in a suit that seems to have seen better days. He looks clean, carefully groomed, and with a beard that Emily believes he trimmed that very day.
"Mr. Cruz," Emily Harris says, approaching the man and extending her hand. "I'm your legal representative. I'm very sorry we couldn't meet earlier; your case was a last-minute assignment from the commission."
Ernesto Cruz, an immigrant who has spent half his life living in Charleston, isn't surprised by Emily's words. He couldn't afford a lawyer, so his file has been at the bottom of some dusty box for a good while. He almost had a heart attack when he got a call from Harris & Associates informing him they would handle his case. He lost hope when the man on the phone told him it wasn't necessary to come to the office, asked him some questions, and scheduled him for the court time. Now he finds himself facing a woman with a kind face and, although it gives him peace of mind, he doesn't believe they'll win the lawsuit.
"A pleasure to meet you, miss," says Ernesto in perfect English.
"Please call me Emily," she asks and opens the folder she's carrying. "Mr. Cruz, I understand that for six years you were working for Baker Construction and one afternoon, after finishing your shift, your boss fired you without explanation and gave you a check for two thousand seven hundred dollars. This man claimed that in this state there's an at-will employment law," Emily looks up and focuses on Ernesto, "which is true, and with this they can fire any worker without need for financial compensation. However, you claim that the restriction of your contract was for discriminatory reasons and, if so, the company owner would be violating federal law."
Ernesto opens his eyes, impressed; he didn't expect his lawyer to have actually immersed herself in his case.
"Yes, I started working there as undocumented, although a few years later, after getting my work permit, I asked for a contract. The boss tried not to do it and when he finally gave in, he kept the same salary I was earning, well below my colleagues, despite the fact that I had more experience," Ernesto explains while letting out a sigh. "A few of us got together and decided to protest. The boss didn't like that and started insulting us, even through text messages. I think he did it because he thought none of us would take action; there are still colleagues who are in the country illegally."
"But you did take action," says Emily.
"Yes, and that's why he fired me, me and three others who also complained. The rest let it go and changed jobs. I decided to sue because it's not fair; I worked my skin off day and night without complaining, only to be paid back like this in the end."
"You did the right thing, Ernesto," says Emily and accompanies the comment with a light touch on the man's arm. "The work you've done gathering all the evidence will help us win."
For the first time in weeks, Ernesto smiles. He's going through a difficult situation and when he had already lost hope, Emily Harris appears to restore it. With that money—if they manage to win—Ernesto will climb out of the hole he's in.
"Let's go, it's time," says Emily, and they walk toward the room where the judge is waiting.
The trial goes faster than Emily had thought. The defendant's representative didn't expect the attorney to present documents clearly showing the actions of the Baker Construction owner. Threats, emails, and even a video that make it quite clear that Mr. Baker is an exploiter who uses people from marginalized groups to increase his wealth. They reached an agreement for Ernesto Cruz to receive an appropriate compensation, not what he deserved, but enough to close the litigation.
"Thank you so much, Emily," the man says with watery eyes once they've left the courthouse.
Emily says goodbye to her client and now, with renewed energy, heads to her tennis training.
It takes her exactly twenty-four minutes to arrive, she parks the car and enters the courts of the Walker Elite Sport Club, where a bustling atmosphere prevails.
"You've arrived just in time today, what a surprise," Leah smiles at Emily's indignant look.
"I stayed talking with a client after a trial and lost track of time a bit."
Leah tilts her head slightly and gives her a nod. She's fascinated by lawyer Emily too.
"Are you ready to learn something new today?" the trainer asks.
"Always," the smile that Emily gives Leah is somewhat different; this one carries a bit of that kiss they shared two days ago.
"Then let's not waste time."
This time, Leah Walker focuses the training on types of serves. She teaches her student how to position herself, hold the racket, and where to direct the shot. As always, Emily pays close attention, asks a couple of questions, and when she believes she's understood everything, announces she's ready.
"Plant your feet firmly, so you feel secure and balanced," says Leah while touching her leg.
Both women feel a slight prick in the lower part of their body. It's a brief touch, but enough to remind them that between them seems to grow an attraction.
"The continental grip is the most natural and you'll feel comfortable with it," Leah continues, trying to ignore the rapid beating of her heart. "And with this hand hold the ball; you have to lift it at the same time you rotate your torso a bit, as I showed you."
