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"What does the e-mail say?"
"A bunch of legal blah blah, but she basically wants the money we got from the Alice Bennett job and Julian Humphrey."
Julian Humphrey was the client who first went to Natasha's office, then contacted me. But Christopher's lawyer assured me the guy was fair game. And how in the world did Natasha find out?
"We can't afford to pay her anything. I'll call the lawyer I talked to about Julian and ask him to see us today."
"Good." Isabelle falls silent but doesn't click off. "I'm scared," she says eventually. "We work so hard. What if we lose everything?"
The secret ingredient to our friendship has always been that when one of us is down, the other encourages her. This is excellent advice for times when problems are one-sided, but harder to follow through when we're potentially both in trouble up to our necks. Still, I find it in myself to sound strong and positive.
"We didn't do anything wrong, Isabelle. We'll go to the lawyer, and he'll set us straight. It's too soon to throw a pity party."
"You're right," she says at once, her no-nonsense tone back. "Let me know when the lawyer can see us."
I click the phone off but keep clutching it tightly.
First things first, I call the lawyer, asking if there's any chance we have to pay Natasha what Alice and Julian paid us, because there's no way in hell we can do that. He is ninety-nine percent certain we won't have to pay anything, and once he looks over the e-mail from Natasha, he’ll be able to tell us more. Thankfully, he offers to squeeze us in his schedule in half an hour. If I leave the coffee shop right now, I should make it in time. I'll just have to find a good excuse for Hervis.
"We can reschedule for another time if you're busy," Hervis Jackson's voice booms from behind me the second I drop my phone in my bag. My insides clench instantly as I swirl on my heels to face him. Clearly, he'd been eavesdropping on my conversation with the lawyer.
"Yes. It's an urgent meeting—"
"Legal troubles, I heard."
Even though I'm dying on the inside, doubt and fear suffocating me, I pull myself straighter, rolling my shoulders. "My previous employer is completely out of line. I just talked to the lawyer, and he assured me I have nothing to worry about."
"You sounded very worried."
"It's unpleasant, but nothing I can't weather."
"Please keep me informed," Hervis says. "I sincerely hope it won't have any adverse effects on your business."
"It won't. Have a good day."
Once in my car, I call Isabelle and th
en drive to the lawyer's office. Isabelle's words roll back and forth in my mind. What if we lose everything?
She meant the business, the clients, but a deep fear takes roots in my mind, spreading like poison. What if I lose the kids? Minutes pass and everything around me blurs as scenario after scenario run through my head. Loud honking snaps me back to my senses. I didn't see the light turn green.
Isabelle is pacing around the lawyer's office when I arrive. Alan Smith is in his late fifties, but his hair is completely gray, which I find has a calming effect on me.
"Why don't you take a seat?" Sitting behind his large desk, he points to the two seats across him.
"I'm too nervous," Isabelle says.
"Same here."
"Very well. I've looked over the papers you were served, and I cannot find any grounds for a successful lawsuit. You didn't have a non-compete clause in your former employment contract, and even if you had, those are notoriously hard to enforce."
I let out a breath of relief. Isabelle stops pacing.
"That's good, right? It means we have nothing to worry about?" I ask.
"Natasha could try to prove you purposely undermined her company and turn this into suing for defamation—"
"Oh God!" I slump into one of the seats in front of his desk.
