“I could use a few of those, but only ones who call me Sara.”
“Consider it done.”
Stone gestured to the chair in front of his desk, and she sat.
“Can we get you anything to drink?” he asked.
“I would love some water.”
“Still or sparkling?” Joan asked.
“Sparkling, please.”
Joan handed Stone a manila envelope. “Coffee for you?”
“Please.”
She left and Stone returned to his seat.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure why I’m here,” Sara said, “but Uncle Jack seems to think you can help me.”
“I can, but only if you desire it.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure what I need help with.”
“How about we start with what your uncle thought most pressing? I understand you are in the process of getting a divorce.”
The liveliness in her eyes dulled. “I am.”
“I also understand it’s dragged on longer than necessary.”
“Mr. Hardgrove, he’s my attorney, warned me that it could take some time.”
“He’s in Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“When was the last time you spoke with him?”
She chewed her lip, thinking. “Maybe two weeks ago.”
“Did he call you or did you call him?”
“I called him to let him know I was moving.”
“And when was the last timehecalled you? And I don’t mean in response to a message you left.”
“Gosh, I’m not sure. It’s been a while.”
“More than a month?”
“At least that long.”
“More than two?”
She thought again, then shrugged. “Maybe.”
“May I suggest consulting another attorney?”
