Page 11 of The Scent of Happiness

The tightness in Brooke’s chest loosened a bit. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as she thought. Theo had immediately grasped the situation and he’d help her stop Dixie.

“This letter is merely an opening gambit,” Theo explained. “They expect you to refuse the initial offer. We’ll do a little dance around the numbers, play the high-low game, and meet in the middle. Her next offer will be five thousand, you’ll say two, and we’ll settle on three.”

Brooke gasped. “Wait, what? No. That’s not—maybe I didn’t explain it right.” That happened a lot. She tended to go on tangents when she explained things, losing the main point. But she’d practiced all the way here, because she wanted to tell her story succinctly. Maybe in this case, more details were needed. She scooted closer to the desk. She inhaled the familiar fragrances she worked with every day, trying to gather her thoughts. “I use sodium hydroxide. You know, lye? You can’t make cold process soap without it. That’s what turns the oils into soap. By the time it’s complete, the lye is inert, and you get a gentle bar of solidified oils that can clean you.”

Theo reached into the basket and held up her Citrus Ginger bar, a skeptical look on his face.

“That’s the soap I used today.” Brooke shoved back her sweater’s sleeve. “See? Look. No rash.” She stood and leaned over the desk, putting her wrist right under his nose. “This one has an olive oil base. It makes your skin so soft. Lemon is the primary scent.”

“Olive oil? You want to smell like a salad?”

His words were a weight on her, pulling her arm downward. She sat in her chair and pulled down her sleeve.

Theo dropped the Citrus Ginger bar into the basket. “I can’t be sure this is the same soap that Dixie used. She could literally bring me any soap, show me a rash, and claim that one caused the other.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Brooke told him. “No one else complained about my soap. In fact, I got fan mail.”

Theo’s eyes widened. “You get fan mail?”

“Sure.” Instagram likes. Pinterest saves. Same thing. “Dixie doesn’t have a case.”

“So?”

“So she’s wrong,” Brooke tried. What wasn’t he getting here?

“And you think that matters?” Theo’s expression softened. “Look, I’m trying to help you. The law is complicated, and an attorney can help you negotiate a settlement.”

“Oh, no. You really don’t understand. I’m not going to settle.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What?” Brooke yelped. “No. It’s not about the money. It’s the principle of the thing.”

“The first thing you learn in law school is that it’s never the principle of the thing.” A gust of cold air blew through the window. Theo stood and closed it down to a crack. “It’s the money.”

“Why are we even discussing this?” Brooke asked. “I thought it was my decision. I thought I was hiring you to work for me.”

“You can hire me to work with you,” Theo said, his voice maddeningly reasonable. “I wouldn’t be representing you fairly if I didn’t tell you the truth. A suit is unlikely to go in your favor, so we need to discuss some options.”

“I don’t want options.” Brooke said. “I want it to go away.”

“Then settle,” Theo said.

“I’m supposed to pay someone three thousand dollars for harassing me? Ugh. She doesn’t even care about the money. She has money. Lots of it. Her husband is some mucky-muck at the college and she stays home and does charity things.”

“Did you just say ‘mucky-muck?’”

“What I’m saying is that this is personal. Dixie has always hated me.”

Brooke waited for him to ask her why, but he just sat there. This whole conversation felt like oil and lye refusing to emulsify, no matter how long she stirred it. “Don’t you think, as my lawyer, that you should know why?”

“Her feelings toward you are not relevant,” Theo said.

Brooke stood. “Thank you for your time, but I think I’ve chosen the wrong person to represent me.”

Theo remained seated, completely unruffled. “You don’t have to hire me. But any honest attorney will tell you the same thing.”

“Tell me to pay off Dixie,” Brooke spat.