"Like you said, she's intelligent."
"Are you inferring that most of my girlfriends aren't?"
I couldn't win this point as there was enough evidence to suggest that most of his girlfriends had been university educated, frequently holding professor status. "She's spoken to you. She'll have sussed you out as the player you are in three seconds flat. Plus, she thinks you're violent and only have sex to Ed Sheeran tracks."
He laughed, holding his side. I suspected he had bruised ribs. My brother enjoyed mixed martial arts; more to the point, he enjoyed legitimately kicking the shit of people. He was an almost teetotal, control and fitness freak who only ate organic and defined juicing as a religion. "Well, you had to tell her something to help yourself out."
"I'm not interested."
"Like fuck you're not. She looks like every wet dream you've ever had."
"How would you know?"
"I remember your porn collection. And which pages were most destroyed. Plus, I checked your search history on your laptop when I borrowed it a few weeks ago."
"I hate you."
"Same old, brother, same old. When's the bike being delivered?"
My desire to knock his two front teeth out evaporated at the mention of my new bike; it was a custom build; a treat and its delivery would be like ten Christmases rolled into one. "Two weeks. I might let you take her out."
"Who? Vanessa?"
"Fuck you. Anyway, she's off limits. To both of us."
"She's not my type, Jacks, in all seriousness. She has a sister vibe going on for me, possibly because I was listening to her and Claire giggle for an evening while working their way through the cocktail menu. Don't know why she's off limits for you. She's not really an employee. And let's face it, half your irritability is down to you being a little too friendly with your right hand at the moment." He looked back down at the papers on his desk, a move which summed him up completely. He was a workaholic and nothing that took his attention away from work, including less than competent secretaries, was worth too much of his time.
"Off limits. What does Claire want me for?" I said. Sometimes it was better to be forewarned where my sister was concerned.
"Possible new case. You heard of Katie Worthington?" His attention was back on me, so this must have interested him, legally anyway.
"The model, spokesperson for that charity that works with kids with a skin condition?"
"That's the one. She's not a porn star so I wasn't sure if you'd be familiar." The continual references to me watching or reading porn stemmed from when we were teenagers and our step-mother, Marie and the Greene in Callahan Greene, caught me in a compromising position with her computer. As punishment, she made sure that every member of our family who was old enough to find it funny knew about it. Max had never forgotten it, mainly because it kept the spotlight off what he was doing at the time.
"She needs a family lawyer? I thought she was happily married to some business mogul. Dean Lacey? The entrepreneur?"
He nodded, leaning back in his chair which gave a loud creak. "That's the one. She wants a divorce. But it's more complex than that; she's out for blood. He's been having an affair and she's got the pictures to prove it. It's going to get messy and that's without the media involvement. I think there may be more to it; he's not as squeaky clean as he's portrayed himself."
"Fuck. Claire won't want another case like this. You remember the Derek Nixon one where she was having to switch hotels and hire security?" My sister was the family law expert. She headed up a team of five and had developed a solid reputation for being able to deal with high profile, high priced clients. In short, she was a shark, but she picked and chose her cases depending on who she thought was in the right. "You fancy supporting her?" Maxwell could hold his own in that field, although his specialty was medical malpractice with the occasional class action lawsuit.
"No can do. I've got too much on with the Pearson-Regis case. We're due in court in ten weeks and as far as these things go, it's on the biggish side and growing. Besides, something like that will end up with me putting a fist where it shouldn't go. Speak to Claire. Your caseload is light, you could assist. Or look at fees and put security in from the start."
"Both are possibilities. But Claire has a good team – she doesn't need me to assist; it's if she's willing to lead on it. And the client has approached her. I'll speak with her later. How's everything else been while I've been away?" I sat down in a chair near the window. Jet lag was starting to catch up with me, although having a sleep during the day would be the worst thing to do.
Maxwell nodded. "Business-wise everything is kosher. Seph had a good win last week at mediation. Claire's a freaking genius. Two of the others had decent settlements too." Max sighed. "Work's fine. If it wasn't you'd already be aware of it."
"What isn't fine then?"
"Seph's still not okay. I think we need to ask Payton to come back for a bit. The Manchester office is up and running, she doesn't need to be there and to be honest, I could do with her in my department and Seph could do with her full stop."
I tipped my head back and looked at the high ceiling. Seph and Payton were twins, the second youngest – I always forget who was actually born first. They were the product of our father's second marriage to Marie, three years after our mother died. Seph, given name Joseph but no one ever called him that, was highly strung, probably gifted and when he didn't have a clear direction or a definite focus he became a mess. Three months ago his childhood sweetheart had finished their relationship. Only he was surprised; they'd been together since they were 21 but had never lived together and there had been no sign of the relationship going anywhere solid. But now he was stranded and doing everything too hard; partying too hard, drinking too hard and working too hard. The combination wasn't the best, for him or for the rest of us.
Payton had been in Manchester for the past six months, helping to set up a satellite office there to meet demand in the north. It was only temporary, a few months until we were confident that the managing partner there was happy also. Payton was only twenty-seven, with four years' experience as a lawyer but she'd been working in our offices since she was sixteen. Her biggest case so far had been for a company in Manchester and it had been better for her to work on it whilst up there.
"She can hand her files over and come home whenever. Do you want to speak to her about it?"
"Yeah, I'll give her a call this evening. She knows what Seph's been like recently and she was thinking about returning sooner rather than later. The manager knows what he's doing and he's pleased with how the two new solicitors have settled in. He just needs another paralegal – I think it's tomorrow he's interviewing." Max squinted at his computer screen, probably looking at the diary and I stood up.
