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“You look like shit,” I say, sitting down in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. “What’s going on?”
Damien sighs. “We might be in trouble.”
“Are you using the royal we here?” I ask, but he doesn’t smile.
“No, I mean you, and me, and Luc.”
“What, are we getting sued or something? Are Luc’s unpaid parking tickets finally catching up with him?”
“We’re struggling to find new clients,” Damien says.
I sit up straight, surprised. “What do you mean? We’ve been just as busy as ever.”
“Yes, with existing clients and cases,” Damien replies. “But in terms of bringing in new business, nothing’s happening.”
“Why not?” I ask, insulted on behalf of the firm. “We’re great at what we do! Our firm’s one of the best-known in Chicago!”
“Yeah, one of the best-known for representing crime bosses and drug lords,” Damien says grimly. “Now that we’re trying to mend our ways, we’re facing some really stiff headwinds.”
I nod, understanding sinking in. Until fairly recently, the majority of Devil’s Advocate’s clients weren’t exactly model citizens. They weren’t all, as Damien put it, drug lords and crime bosses, but they were all guilty of questionable moral choices, at the very least.
We defended them zealously, because that’s one of the tenets that Damien founded the firm on: everyone deserves good representation when charged with a crime. No matter how personally repugnant I might have found a client, I would still defend him or her to the very best of my abilities.
We all did, and we were all good at it. Devil’s Advocate quickly became not just a firm to watch, but one to fear. And then Damien defended one of the city’s most notorious crime bosses, a malignant asshole who decided to threaten Sophia. After that, Damien decided that it was time for us to pivot away from the shadier element and start representing less morally compromised clients.
Which sounded good in theory. And honestly, up until now I thought that we were pulling it off. But now it sounds like Damien’s been keeping the bad news to himself.
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” I ask.
Damien shrugs. “I kept hoping that things would turn around, I guess. All we need are one or two big clients, and we’re on steadier ground. But every time I got close to signing someone like that, they’d change their mind.”
“Because of our old reputation,” I say, and Damien nods. “Didn’t you make it clear that we’re going in a different direction now?”
“Of course I did!” he says, his voice full of frustration. “Over and over, I practically swore it in blood. But it’s not working. That’s why I had you and Luc in here the other week to brainstorm ways to recruit new clients. I don’t know what to do.”
I’m not used to hearing my older brother sound so hopeless, or look so despondent. Damien’s always so steady and confident, so certain that he’s right. Which can get fucking annoying at times, to be honest, but seeing him like this is unsettling.
“There must be a way to convince people to trust us,” I say. “Some way to show that we really are different now.”
“Except that the best way to prove that would be to score a big win for a high-profile, legit client,” Damien points out. “Which we can’t do if we don’t have a legit client at all, much less one with a high profile.”
“We can increase our recruitment efforts,” I suggest. “Luc is good with the wining and dining. We’ll send him out for client development. That could work.”
“Luc is good with all that,” Damien agrees. “But he was also the one that was most reluctant to go in a different direction. I know he’s a great attorney, Finn, but I’m not convinced that he’d be the most effective representative for the firm for this.”
“I’ll do more,” I offer. “I want this to work, Damien.”
“I know, and I appreciate that. But the reality is that there isn’t much for you to do. There isn’t much for any of us to do that we haven’t already tried. I didn’t think it would be this difficult to get new clients in. I didn’t realize how deep their mistrust of us ran.”
“How much time do we have?” I ask.
“That depends on what we’re willing to sacrifice,” he says.
“That sounds grim.”
“It is. If we don’t want to start putting our own money in the firm to plug the gaps, we’re going to have to downsize. Lay people off, put a freeze on hiring, maybe even move to a smaller building.”
I shake my head in disbelief. This building is Damien’s pride and joy. I remember how thrilled he was when Devil’s Advocate moved in. At first we could only afford to rent half of one floor, but over time, as the firm got bigger and more successful, we grew to an entire floor, and then a second one. Now our name is on the building.
