Page 59 of The Scent of Happiness

“My break has ten more minutes,” Brooke said over the sound of the copier.

“I know.” Melanie pointed at Brooke’s bag. “What’s really on that shirt? Did you douse it with some kind of subliminal pheromones? To make us all crazy or some such?”

“No. It only seems to work when the shirt is worn by its owner.” Brooke watched copies of the Halloween flyer shoot out of the machine. “And I’m pretty sure it only works on me.”

Chapter Eighteen

Theo had a shower and a healthy breakfast, packed his gym bag for later, and headed for work, stopping at a convenience store along the way for a pack of Camels and a lighter. He parked his Impala in the empty lot and waited for Stephen to show up.

Theo began his closing argument ritual. It was a way to order his thoughts so he would make his points in a logical way, moving smoothly from one to the next without forgetting anything or rushing. He held his right hand flat, palm down, at stomach height while making his opening statement. Then he held his left hand near his chest while he made the next point. Then chin level, then nose, stacking his hands up his body.

If he practiced enough, by the time he got in front of a judge, or in an arbitration room, or haggling at the car dealership, he could make his closing argument with his hands hanging loose at his sides, the very picture of control. Simply envisioning the ritual helped him remember his points and deliver them with ease.

He stacked his hands, rehearsing what he would say to Stephen. It was no use arguing right and wrong, because he knew which side he was on. But right and wrong rarely mattered. Anything could be justified with the correct framing. He needed to stress the fact that Brooke had a contract which would need to be upheld by Walker Blue, even if Theo didn’t handle the case himself.

His hand hovered near his chest. If he got out of the case now, he’d be on the right side of the ethical line. He needed his mentor’s help to yank him back into safer territory. Therefore, he’d be the young Padawan who needed guidance and let Stephen be the Jedi Master. He added his right hand to the stack, floating it near his chin. Lawyers loved to help people, so he’d appeal to Stephen’s protective instincts. Make him feel like the hero who saved the day.

At eight-thirty, Stephen’s SUV pulled into the lot and took a space near the door. Theo bolted from his car and bounded after him. “Hey, can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” Stephen said. “Get some coffee, we can talk in my office.”

“I was hoping we could talk out here.” Theo had already opened the pack of Camels in his car and had the first one pulled out partway for Stephen to take. “Smoke?”

Stephen looked at the cigarettes like a dieter looked at pie, but he shook his head. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No, I’m trying to make sure you don’t kill me.”

“Because you took off early yesterday? Forgiven.” Stephen clapped him on the back. “I trust you got your issues out of your system and you’re ready to get back to work.”

“I need to talk to you.” Theo tilted his head away from the door. He moved a few steps to the side, out of the path of people coming in, and Stephen followed. When he was sure they were out of earshot of anyone entering the building, he faced his mentor, his head bowed. “I messed up.”

“Is this about that thing from last week?” Stephen asked. “That case with the food workers at the college? I helped you with the wording on that. Why do you keep coming back to me with it?”

“Not that.” Theo put his right hand out, hovering it near his belly. “It’s about Brooke Nesbitt.”

“Who?”

“The woman who makes soap? She and I…” he trailed off, and looked toward the parking lot, gathering his thoughts.

But he was too slow. Stephen had already made the leap. He held his fists to his temples, his eyes shooting fire. “You didn’t. You idiot. Please tell me you did not do that.”

Theo tucked his shoulders inward and his knees came together as he deflated where he stood. “I did.”

Stephen made some garbled noises, as if trying to say several things at once. “When?”

“Last night?” Dammit, that was not supposed to sound like a question. This wasn’t going the way he’d planned it. He didn’t get a chance to slide in any of his carefully crafted statements or justifications. And now the truth was out with nothing to soften it. “I screwed up. And I need your help.”

Stephen lowered his hands, still in fists. “I told you not to take that case. You took it anyway. I told you not to sleep with your client. But you did. You did the exact opposite of what I told you to do, and now you come to me for advice. It’s a little late for that, buddy.”

“Now is the perfect time.” Theo maneuvered himself in front of Stephen to keep him from going into the office. “If I never made mistakes, I wouldn’t need your advice. That’s how it works.”

“No, that is not how it works.” Stephen took a step toward him and jabbed a finger at his chest. “You’re supposed to prep contracts based on my template. You’re supposed to depose witnesses the way I teach you. You’re supposed to remember the birthdays of the court clerks so they’ll rearrange dockets for you. And when I tell you not to do something—one thing, literally one single thing—you’re not supposed to do it. That’s how it works.”

Stephen moved around him and took a few steps toward the building. Theo raced to get in front of him again. “I know how bad this is. I need you to help me fix it. Who else can I go to?”

Stephen muttered something Theo didn’t catch. He looked out over the cars, his gaze seeming to extend into infinity. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to drop this, right now. Refer that soap girl to another firm. One that will help her negotiate a settlement.”

Theo restacked his hands, starting with the left one this time. He thought about Brooke, and how much he was letting her down. If he hadn’t—if they hadn’t—no, it was best not to go there. He couldn’t turn back time or undo his actions. He needed to go forward.