Bitter Business

the legal-talent Olympics. No doubt because Chelsea was a woman, he’d set it up so that she’d be entertained by every female partner at the firm—all three of us—in the hopes that she’d somehow manage to draw the erroneous conclusion that Callahan Ross was by some stretch of the imagination a nurturing environment for female legal talent.
    “You got two Federal Express envelopes,” Cheryl reported. “They’re by the phone on your desk.”
    I found them and opened the first one.
    “I fucking can’t believe it!” I exclaimed as I scanned the contents of the first envelope.
    “Why? What is it?” Cheryl demanded.
    “It’s a letter from some lawyer in Zion, Illinois, who claims to represent Cecilia Dobson’s estate. He wants me to call him to discuss a possible settlement so we can, as he so eloquently puts it, avoid the necessity of a wrongful-death suit against Superior Plating. Jesus, the world is full of shakedown artists.”
    “Funny how they all have the initials J.D. after their name, isn’t it?” Cheryl piped in.
    “That’s awfully cynical for a woman who’s only three semesters away from the bar exam.”
    “So do you want me to get this guy from Zion on the phone for you?”
    “No. I’ll dictate a buzz-off letter after I talk to Jack Cavanaugh—if I talk to Jack Cavanaugh. He hasn’t called, has he? I need to talk to him about his crazy family.”
    “He’s out of town today,” came a soft voice from the doorway. Cheryl and I both looked up, startled.
    It was Dagny’s daughter, Claire, looking pale but composed in the doorway.
    “Claire, come in,” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet while Cheryl swept the stack of files off of the visitor’s chair. “Can I offer you anything? Coffee, tea, a Coke?”
    “A glass of water would be good, thank you,” she said as Cheryl disappeared to get it.
    “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
    “I can only stay a minute. Aunt Vy’s waiting for me out front. I told her that I left my scarf and had to run back for it. I just had a meeting with Mr. Kurlander about my mom’s will and stuff.”
    “How did it go?”
    “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said, looking around my office uncertainly. “Wow,” she exclaimed in a kind of hushed awe, “this is even worse than my room.” Cheryl came back with the water and Claire took a sip before continuing. “It was pretty weird, I mean, hearing about the money and all. It is my money, isn’t it? I mean, I know I’ve got to have an adult in charge of it until I turn eighteen, but after that it’s mine no matter what, right?”
    “It’s yours no matter what right now,” I told her. “Only you have to have your aunt and uncle’s permission to spend it or invest it while you’re still a minor. It’s to keep you from blowing it all on motorcycles and trips to the Caribbean until you’re old enough to supposedly know better.”
    “And then I can blow it all on trips and motorcycles?” she demanded, with a faint smile.
    “When you’re eighteen you can do whatever you want with it,” I assured her. “Though I’m sure Mr. Kurlander will have all sorts of sensible advice about what you can do with your inheritance so that you’ll have enough money for the things you want for a long time.”
    “Mr. Kurlander has plenty of sensible advice,” she replied scornfully. “Whenever I asked him a question he basically told me not to worry my pretty little head about it. I might be young, but that doesn’t make me stupid. And I don’t understand how I’m going to learn enough to be ready to make decisions about my own money when I do turn eighteen if all he’s going to do is patronize me.”
    “I guess Mr. Kurlander rubbed you the wrong way?” I asked. I wasn’t surprised. Kurlander had the same effect on me. What I did find remarkable was Claire’s intelligence and poise in the face of what most sixteen-year-old girls would find an intimidating situation.
    “How can I even be sure he’ll be alive when I turn eighteen? He looks like he’s at least a hundred.”
    I laughed. “You don’t have to use him as your attorney. If you’d like, I can help you find someone at the firm who you’ll like who might be closer to your own age.”
    “Could you be my lawyer?”
    “I already am,” I replied, flattered by the question. “I’m the lawyer for Superior Plating and Specialty Chemicals, of which you are a significant shareholder. You need an attorney who’s