Page 59 of Rio
“You will do no such thing.You’ll come back.Now.”
“But—”
“Do you hear me?”
I stare at the phone, heart pounding.“How can I walk away now?”
“I’ll send one of the juniors.You’ve done enough.”
“They’ll be eaten alive out here,” I snap.“EcoGuardians will lose the injunction.”
A few seconds pass in silence.Finally, “I don’t like this,” he hisses.“I don’t like this one fucking bit.”
“But you sent me here.”
“It wasn’t supposed to take this long.”
A labored sigh falls from his lips.He’s struggling with something.I don’t know what’s happened to him.Work pressure?Maybe the Santos case is veering off course.
“I should never have …” He stops.
“Never have what?”
He doesn’t answer, and I can sense him battling to make a decision.“Must you file tomorrow?”
“Time is critical.Alma insists.She was worried they might try to clean up their mess before inspection and we all saw how smooth Rio Knight was at the community meeting.We don’t want to lose the window.”
“Wait.Stand by.I need to check something.”
I’m puzzled.This has never happened before.What is Pierce doing?Who is he consulting?My thoughts are interrupted when he calls be back a few minutes later.
“You’d better make sure you have an airtight case.If the opposing lawyers get whiff of sloppiness, they’ll gut this injunction in five minutes.”
He changed his tune pretty fast.I wonder who he called.“You’re happy for me to file?”
“Happy isn’t the word I would use.”
“I’ve been working flat out.I didn’t have much time to get everything together, but I’m almost done.”
“Don’t fuck this up and make it any worse than it is,” he snarls.
“I won’t.”I hang up and glance at the file Rio gave me and consider that I might need to look through it.Pierce seemed shaken and I need to ensure I have a watertight case.Seeing what evidence the other side has might give me an insight into their case.
I get to work immediately, pulling my hair up into a sticky bun again.I’m sweating as I type.My fingers move across the keys, but everything slows me down.The soft whine of the air conditioner sputters, then dies mid-sentence.I get up and press the button but it doesn’t come on.Annoyed, knowing I have to soldier on, I return to my desk, but a few seconds later, the Wi-Fi signal disappears from my screen.
“No, no, no, no, no!”I peer at my screen, as if I have some magical power to turn it back on.I’ve saved a copy, but I still need Internet access because I’m pulling documents from online sources.I have enough for now, and hopefully the generator will kick in again soon.I begin to type again as more sweat trickles down the back of my neck, the sides of my face, and down my cleavage.Its starting to feel like a sauna.I persist, working on.It feels like I’ve been at it for a while, but to my dismay, when I glance at the clock, it’s barely been ten minutes.I can’t work like this.Not in this heat.Not without a fan.Without AC.Without a connection.
I pick up my phone to call the small reception desk—just as someone knocks at the door.I open it to find the same young man who manned the desk when I checked in.He’s smiling way too brightly for my liking.
“I’m sorry, Ms.Monteiro.We’re experiencing a temporary generator overload.The power should be back soon.”
“Soon?”
“An hour, maybe.”
“An hour?”
“Maybe more.”
