Exposed (Rosato & DiNunzio #5)(37)

Mary laughed, though it felt hollow. She couldn’t believe it had come to a head so fast, that she was actually considering leaving a firm that she loved. They had been together forever, had tons of cases, adventures, and misadventures. Helped each other through major trials and love affairs. She didn’t know if she could do it, but maybe she had to.

They reached the corner with the business crowd, suspended their conversation because everyone was in earshot, then crossed the street into Rittenhouse Square, a gloriously green block ringed with privet hedges, and they crossed the street into the park, walked along the pathways, and grabbed the first park bench that was available, because they filled up fast.

Mary flopped down, suddenly exhausted. “We forgot lunch.”

“I can’t eat anyway.” Judy’s face fell into crestfallen lines, and Mary’s heart went out to her.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I feel horrible putting you through this.”

“I know, and I feel horrible making you feel guilty when you’re trying to figure this out. I know you’re in a really hard spot. I get it. I really do.” Judy sighed heavily, turning to her, her head inclined. “Is it horrible if I say that I wish this case never came in in the first place?”

“No, that is definitely not horrible. That is what I thought about a million times. I wish they never fired him in the first place, just for my sake. It’s all about me, right? Not my friend who lost his job and his wife. Not his daughter who has cancer.”

“Right.” Judy smiled wryly. “We’re lawyers, so it’s always about us.”

“Exactly.” Mary felt a wave of love for her friend, who understood everything about her, even her weird sense of humor. “We will always be friends.”

Judy swallowed hard. “I know, but it’s different when you don’t work together.”

“No it isn’t,” Mary said gently.

“Yes it is, you don’t see each other as often. You don’t go out for lunch together. You say you’ll see each other but you don’t.”

“We will, we would.”

“You say that.”

“But it’s true.”

Judy sighed heavily. “So you’re really considering leaving.”

“I don’t know, I guess I am. I guess I have to.” Mary hurt inside, and the wrench in her chest was becoming familiar.

“What does Anthony think?”

Mary cringed. “I didn’t talk to him about it yet. I only thought about it in the middle of the night, and he was asleep. I just thought to myself, ‘what if the settlement doesn’t work out,’ ‘what if push comes to shove,’ and here we are.”

Judy pushed her. “You would go out on your own then?”

Mary blinked, getting an idea. “Well, I wouldn’t have to be completely on my own, now would I?”

“What do you mean?”

“Girl. Come with me.”

“Ha!” Judy burst into laughter. “Are you serious?”

“Why not?” Mary said, trying to wrap her mind around the idea. “I have tons of work, Judy. I have a very solid client base. If I have to go, you could come with me. It would be great.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Judy said, putting up a restraining hand. “Mare, are you forgetting? We have been in business together, way back when. Remember when we tried to start a practice after we left Stalling & Webb?”

“Oh, right.” Mary had forgotten, or more likely, blocked it out. “You mean, how our impulsive decision to flee our big firm led us to hang out our own shingle—”

“—and set up shop and wait for a phone to ring? Which it didn’t?”

“Well, look at the bright side, we did a lot of pro bono work.”

Judy grinned. “We could have saved the world. And also starved.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.” Judy laughed.

Mary got serious. “But that was then and this is now. Times are different. I have business. I don’t have to wait for a phone to ring anymore. In fact, there are days when I don’t answer the phone because I don’t want another case.”

“Really?” Judy’s eyes narrowed, a skeptical Delft blue.

“Honestly. You know how many cases I have, ongoing, right now? Take a guess.”

“Well, twelve active cases is a lot,” Judy began, thinking aloud. “And you need a base of about fifty ongoing cases, whether they are superactive or not.”

“Agreed.” Mary folded her arms, self-satisfied. “So guess.”

“Sixty?”

“Try a hundred and twenty.”

“What?” Judy’s eyes rounded with amazement. “Are you serious? What are the billings?”

“About $1 million a year.”

“That’s as much as Bennie!”

“Tell me about it. It was more than her, last fiscal year.” Mary had been astounded herself, when she realized how much her practice had grown. “And I’m already paying overhead because we split it, so that’s payroll, rent, fixtures of about four hundred grand a year, so I take home three hundred grand after taxes.”

“Wow, I make one hundred fifty.”

“I’ll give you a raise,” Mary said, meaning it.