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While part of me was grateful to my dad, nepotism had never really been my thing. Maybe that was one of the reasons I’d balked at law school. Not just because I’d been expected to come home and work with my father.
“That’s a generous offer.”
John David placed his hand on the table and gave me a direct look. “We like to take care of our own, Harper, and your family is our family.”
“I’ve heard that rumors are being spread about me in Jackson Creek,” I said carefully. “Ugly things. Are you sure you want to be associated with that?”
Mitch laughed. “We’re attorneys, Harper. People already think badly of us, but you can bet your ass—” he gave my mother an apologetic look “—excuse my language, Sarah Jane.” He turned back to me. “You can be assured that when those judgmental people have problems, we’re the first people they’ll seek out, and the more of a reputation we have, the more they want us.”
“In certain matters,” my mother added, her lips pressed thin. “Criminal cases. Not real estate like my Paul.” She gave my father a tight smile.
“Yes and no,” Mitch said. “True, the meaner we appear, the more they want me for a criminal case, but Paul has a reputation for getting his clients what they want, so while he may not have his character questioned, his expertise at winning cases keeps gaining him clients.”
“Paul rarely goes to court,” my mother said dryly.
“Because he knows how to settle disputes without going to court,” John David said.
Mitch nodded in agreement.
“Are you suggesting my reputation might actually be an asset to the firm?” I asked in disbelief.
“We’re not exactly planning on making an announcement you’re there,” Mitch conceded, “but we don’t see it as a detriment.”
“This is not what I agreed to,” my mother snapped, her eyes dancing with anger as she stared at my father.
“We both agreed she needs a job,” my father said firmly.
“Yes, but not to parade her misdeeds around like they’re something to be celebrated.”
“That’s not our intent, Sarah Jane,” Mitch said. “Our intent is to take care of our own. Just like you took care of my sweet Trina when she was ill.”
“That’s different,” my mother shot back, her cheeks flushed. “I held her hand during chemo.”
“And we’re metaphorically holding your daughter’s hand while she gets back on her feet.”
“She was supposed to stay in the background,” my mother spat.
“She will,” John David said. “She’ll be filing.”
“What would you have me do, Mom?” I asked quietly as I turned to face her. “Would you rather I work at the Gas and Go in Wolford?”
“Of course not!”
“That’s because you’d rather not have me here at all, right? You’d rather I be anywhere but here.”
“I never once said that,” she countered.
She became blurry through my unshed tears. “I think you just did.” I turned to face my father’s partners. “Thank you for your generous offer, but I think I should pass.”
“Now, don’t be hasty,” Mitch said, patting his hands toward me. “Emotions are high right now, so why don’t you take some time to think it over?”
I placed my napkin on the table. “While it’s been a lovely evening, I have another appointment I need to get to. It was wonderful seeing you both.” Pushing my chair back, I got to my feet.
“Where do you think you’re going?” my mother demanded.
“I’m not seventeen anymore,” I said in a firm tone. “I’m a grown woman, capable of making my own decisions.”
“Obviously not wise ones.”
