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I felt another flush rising up my neck. “I suppose so. I mean, I’d be happy to make some coin, but that’s not why I’m in law school. I already went down that road once before, and it wasn’t really for me.”
“What road was that?”
“The ‘making money for money’s sake’ road. Before law school, I spent some time working for Goldman Sachs. It was just before they took the big bailout. Seeing all those executives take that money after stealing so much more from their investors and clients…it just made me sick. I’d rather be someone who could help people like that get some of it back. Or at least make sure they get what’s theirs in the end.”
Sterling raised a dusky eyebrow. “Almost sounds like you’re interested in advocacy. But I’ve seen your transcripts; your grades are too good for that. You should be clerking for the Supreme Court, not mucking around at a litigation firm.”
I sighed. “I’m...having a hard time choosing what I want to do.” It was hard to admit to someone who would be a potential reference, but it was the truth. “Family law is interesting, but I don’t want to do divorce work. I might also like to help some of the families who normally fall through the cracks get representation. Orphans, or kids whose parents are incarcerated, for instance.”
He tensed visibly. “Foster kids?”
I nodded. “Or abused women. People like that.”
“And why is that?”
I paused. I didn’t want to tell him that I came close to being one of those orphaned kids myself—he wouldn’t be interested in that sob story, not that I told it much anyway. “I’ve seen enough of those types who need help,” was all I said. “I’d like to be one of the people who can help them.”
Sterling didn’t answer, just gazed thoughtfully and chewed for a moment on his lower lip. I dug my toes into the rug and took another long drink of tea. When he stood up, Sterling looked pointedly at my cup, now empty.
“So?” he asked. “It’s late. What’s it going to be, Skylar? Have a nice long sleep in one of my guest rooms? Or do you need some more tea to help you decide?”
His tone dared me to say no, but his eyes twinkled in a way that told me he was enjoying the give and take. I set my cup down on the tray.
“All right,” I said. “You win.”
“I always do,” he replied with a grin. “Up one flight, second door down the hall on your right.”
“Aren’t you going to sleep too?” I asked, already standing up. I tried to stifle a yawn, but the thought of a warm bed was turning out to be more of a siren’s call than expected.
“I’ve got some more work to do tonight,” he said as he walked to the tea tray to fix himself a cup. “You have a good night, Skylar. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you, um, Mr. Sterling,” I said, already on my way up the stairs. It felt strange to address him by his last name after he had removed my shoes, but he hadn’t instructed me otherwise. “Good night.”
* * *
