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“I did. It’s one of the first things I always say when going to court. I normally dealt with lower income clients and they might come in jeans, but they were clean and not looking like they just rolled out of bed from an all-weekend bender.”
“Not any better,” he said.
“Nope. Then Penelope kept interrupting him and the judge snapped at me to get control of my client.”
She’d been trying to do that, but Penelope kept shushing her and whining. That her father was paying for this and she couldn’t lose her license or she might get fired and she couldn’t lose another job.
She wanted to say Penelope should have thought of all that before she was driving fifty in a thirty zone a month ago.
The fact that there were so many points on Penelope’s license made it hard for her to argue that she should keep her license, but she was going to try.
That behavior hadn’t helped at all.
“That had to hurt,” he said.
“Stung like a bitch,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to raise my voice, but I leaned over and very angrily whispered to cut the shit that she was going to lose her license if she didn’t stop it.”
“Did she stop?”
“She did at that point, but it was too late. The judge read Penelope the riot act. Told her she was an ungrateful entitled child. No twenty-five-year-old wants to hear that. Then suspended her license for six months and mandated her to several driving courses.”
“Is there anything you can do?” he asked.
“Appeal. I’ll start that tomorrow. I told Brian what happened. He’d said this judge is harsh on anyone that shows no remorse or isn’t humble in his courtroom. If I’d known that before I would have stressed it to Penelope.”
“Do you think it would have made a difference?” he asked.
“Probably not. I’m sure Brian regrets hiring me.”
He started to laugh. “I doubt that. And maybe Penelope will learn from this. Do you think you have a chance for an appeal or whatever you need to do?”
“Oh, there is no getting her an unrestricted license back for those six months. That’s a done deal. What I’m going to do is request a work license. If she decides she wants to drive outside of working hours and gets caught, she’s on her own. I feel like there will be a lot of groveling involved, but I’ll do it for the client.”
“I wouldn’t want your job, but sometimes we have to do those things in the end. You shouldn’t let it bother you. I’m not sure what you could have done differently. Think of it this way. If you went back in time and stressed her behavior and attire and she still did those things, then what?”
“She would have still lost, and I’d still feel like an idiot, but not a failure.”
“You shouldn’t feel like any of those things,” he said. “You can’t control other people’s behavior or the outcome of their behavior.”
“I know,” she said. “But lawyers are paid to help control that outcome.”
“To a point,” he said. “You know that. Come on, you have to. More so with your other clients from your past job.”
“You’re right,” she said, putting her head back. “I guess I’m just getting down on myself and hate that. I had all these dreams in my head about moving here and my new job.”
“What isn’t working out?” he asked. “I thought for sure I’d be a highlight.”
Mia turned her head and squinted an eye at him. “Totally the highlight,” she said. “I think I’m just bummed that I thought I’d be riding higher than I am. I know I’ll get there. I have to stop being so hard on myself. I spent so much of my career feeling like I let people down and was hoping for some...redemption in my self-esteem here. Does that make me sound childish?”
“Not at all,” he said. “You’re entitled to feel that way and you’re not being childish. I don’t think you’ve got low self-esteem at all.”
“I never used to,” she said. “I actually thought I was doing great here. Maybe I went into court cocky today. I believe that was it. I was thinking it was just traffic court. Most times when someone hires a lawyer, fines are delivered, fees are paid and everyone moves on.”
“Then there you go. Learn and move on. Be confident,” he said.
“And not cocky,” she said. “Thanks. I think your grandfather is here. I heard the door.”
“I’ll go help,” he said, standing up. “He likes scotch if you want to pour him a glass.”
