That’s you.
Louisa
Okay, now you’ve got me crying.
Connor
I may have the hint of a tear too. ??
Love looks good on you.
The jury was still out on that one, so she left it alone.
Her client bustled into the room in his usual flurry of nerves. He wore a suit that didn’t quite fit right and worn tennis shoes. She’d been his attorney for long enough to know this was dressed up for the tech geek.
“I thought I was late,” he said, shaking her hand. “As if I wasn’t nervous enough.”
She felt the tremor in his grip. She watched as he pulled out a chair next to her and dropped into it. “There’s nothing to be nervous about here,” she said, hoping she was right. “We’ve gone over this. We have documentation laying out what the terms of your employment were and what you were to be compensated for the software you created. There’s no getting around that. They’ll make an offer to settle the case out of court. It’ll be laughable, we’ll counter, and they’ll posture. They don’t want to take this case before the judge, because everything is in your favor, but they’ll try to bully you.” Julian Holland was excellent at that, but she kept that to herself. The last thing she needed was to make her client intimidated by her father.
“God, I hope this ends today,” he said in an undertone.
She patted his arm. “The chances are they’ll draw this out until the last moment before the trial, hoping you’ll cave. Just stay tough and let me do the talking.”
“You remember how much I’m willing to accept?” he asked worriedly.
“Yes. I’ve got your back.” She knew that the money wouldn’t appease him—she’d had clients who’d been paid out incredible sums but it still left them feeling like they’d lost. She tried to manage their expectations, but when it was about validation rather than pure compensation, there wasn’t much she could do.
It was about what you wanted in the end, just like Didier and Jamie had said to her. Thinking back, of course her clients weren’t going to be happy with money—they wanted validation or to be told they were right or revenge.
She studied her client fidgeting next to her. He wanted the money, yes, because it’d been promised to him. But he wanted to know that the software he’d created was valued. No matter what she managed to get awarded to him, she knew that he wouldn’t feel like he’d won.
Maybe that insight would aid her in helping her clients in the future.
The mediator bustled in. He was a retired judge, fair and no-nonsense. She’d worked with him before to good results.
“Ms. Emory, good to see you.” He nodded at her as he took the seat at the head of the table. “We’ll get started as soon as Mr. Holland and his client arrive.”
“Thank you.” She glanced at her watch. She knew a powerplay when she saw it, and she knew that was what her father was doing, waiting until the last possible minute to walk in.
Like she expected, right on the hour, Julian Holland entered the building—Jules could hear him down the hall. She felt herself stiffen, so she visibly relaxed, turning to face the door to meet him head-on.
He strode in, his client trailing right behind him. He looked like power, from the top of his precision haircut to the tips of his Italian shoes. It was all understated—the first thing she’d learned as an attorney was to downplay your success so you didn’t put anyone off—but if you knew what to look for, you could see that the shoes were probably custom made and that his watch cost as much as her first home had.
He shook the mediator’s hand, making small talk, his smile blinding and confident. Then he turned to Jules.
She kept her expression neutral. “Mr. Holland.”
“Good morning, counselor,” he said, smiling as if he had no knowledge of her or her parentage. He pointed his client to a seat and took one for himself.
She watched him, trying to calm down the little bit of anxiety that flared up. She saw remnants of what must have attracted her mother to him, a dissipated handsomeness that was cynical at the edges. She thought of how she felt about Danny, and for the first time had some compassion for her mother.
“Now then,” the mediator started, laying out the agenda for the meeting. She forced herself to push aside her own feelings and focus on what was at hand. For the next couple hours, it was going to be about her client, not about her or Danny or her fucked-up parentage.
The opposing counsel and his client left the room, closing the door behind them. Jules faced the mediator and ran down the situation for him as clearly and concisely as she could. He listened, taking notes, and then asked them to leave and call in the other side. Thanking the mediator, she guided her client out into the hall.
Her father and his client were lounging across the hall.
She nodded to them. “He’s waiting for you.”