Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
His client’s jaw dropped and he gaped at Jule. That happened to him a lot at work.
Jule clicked through the images on his laptop. “Seriously, this is what you took?” He turned the screen around to face his client. “They should have applied an aggravator for horrible style.”
“My girlfriend liked them.”
“In that case, she has shit taste in clothes and you have shit taste in women. Also, despite how ugly these are, they’re expensive. So now you have multiple priors and a charge for shoplifting goods valued at over five-K, for some fucking reason.”
“You aren’t like the other lawyers I’ve had.”
“You’ve already done two stints for what should have been misdemeanors, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Those weren’t my fault.” Lenny crossed his arms over his chest.
“Did you testify?” Jule asked, arching his eyebrows.
“Yes.”
“Then they were your fucking fault. Let’s not make that mistake again.”
Lenny opened his mouth and then closed it and nodded.
“Glad we agree.”
Sometimes other lawyers overheard his conversations with clients and mentioned his unorthodox communication style, but he had the lowest conviction rate in the office and his clients liked him, so his bosses left him alone. Having a deceased father who had been the state attorney general, a mother who was the managing partner of the most prestigious law firm in town, a stepfather who was a sitting federal judge, a set of grandparents who owned one of the largest privately held companies in the county, and another grandfather who was a former governor didn’t hurt either.
“What’s the plan?” Lenny asked.
Jule closed his laptop and rested his elbows on it. “The plan is that I’ll talk to the prosecutor assigned to your case and try to work out a plea where you cop to a misdemeanor and don’t do jail time. Failing that, we’ll take it to trial, and you’ll sit next to me and keep your mouth shut the entire time.” He narrowed his eyes and stared at his client.
“Fine.” Lenny uncrossed his arms.
“Also, lose the girlfriend.”
“What?”
“I meant at trial. I don’t want her and her loud, almost certainly stolen clothing anywhere near the courthouse.”
“Fine,” Lenny said again, smiling that time. “We should get a beer when this is all over.”
“If you want to keep having access to beer, you may want to cut the girlfriend loose entirely. Seems like every time you hit Fashion Square with her you break out in handcuffs. Is she really worth it?”
“She gives great head,” Lenny said, like that explained the entire basis of his relationship, which maybe it did.
“Right.” He leaned back in his chair and considered the appearance of the man in front of him. “How about you hit the gym instead of the mall, trim that”—he circled his hand over his own head and face—“and keep yourself clean. Then you can probably find someone else to suck your dick. Maybe someone with less expensive clothing preferences.”
“I keep myself clean,” he said affronted.
“We’ve already established that you’re a terrible liar, Lenny. I can smell you from this side of the desk, and it’s not a sexy clean sweat smell. If I was on my knees and you dropped trou, I’d probably be knocked out by the stench. Nobody wants to put their mouth on a cheese dick. Use soap.”
Lenny threw his head back, cackled, and clapped his hands.
“Whatever you decide about the girlfriend, do the haircut, shave, and shower thing, because if you take her shopping at Neiman Marcus again looking and smelling like that, you’ll attract the wrong attention and be back in my office next week. And if we end up going to trial, I need you to play the part of an upstanding citizen.” Jule had a lifetime perfecting that role, so he was great at giving his clients pointers.
***
“Is your office having a holiday party?” Lydia asked.
“I think so.” Jule turned onto her street. The party was later that week.
“I can go with you if they do.”
“I don’t plan to make an appearance.” And even if he did, he wouldn’t bring a date. That was only necessary for the ever-expanding list of charity events that his mother and both sets of grandparents wanted him to attend.
“Well, let me know if you change your mind. Tonight was fun, right?”
“Uh-huh.” These social obligations were never fun, but having Lydia with him made them bearable. She was smart, nice, and outgoing. Her parents ran in the same circles as his, so they had attended the same family-friendly events growing up. She was only a few years older, which meant that they were almost always placed in the same groups or sat at the same tables. Jule hadn’t engaged with people back then, but he had remembered Lydia Sinclair, so when she called him before the Heart Ball in November and said her mother was on the committee and she would be attending, he was happy to have her join him. It saved him the hassle of finding a date. After that, they’d fallen into a routine of being one another’s plus ones for social obligations throughout the holiday season. “Doctor humor is much better than lawyer humor.”