Page 72

You’d think they’d be smiling as they sign, but Jessica Calloway keeps leering at Ruby while John Calloway won’t look her in the eye.
I steal another glance at Ruby, but she’s focused on the contracts, checking for anything missing before assembling the stacks and returning them to Harlow.
After twenty minutes, we’re done and standing to shake hands again. But this time, Jessica Calloway hisses at her husband, reaching for Ruby’s hand, “Don’t you daretouchher again.”
“Excuse me.” My rage is instant. “Do we have a problem?”
“Ask your trashy paralegal,” she hisses.
“I don’tneedto ask her.” My pulse skyrockets, looming over my clients. “You will not speak to her that way; I don’t care what petty reason you have.”
Ms. Calloway twists her face. “We’re your clients. You can’t speak to usthisway.”
“Let me be clear.” My tone drops to deadly. “I represent you, but you will not disrespect my staff. Apologize to her.Now.”
“I will not!”
“Mr. Cummings,” Ruby touches my arm, “it’s fine.”
“Yeah,” John Calloway fidgets, “we’re fine. It was high school, a million years ago.”
“It was like yesterday that you fucked her!” His wife fumes. “You and your best friend. The fucking whore!”
“I didn’t know you two were dating,” Ruby defends herself, “and you and your friends didn’t have to jump me on the bus and cut my hair off and?—”
Oh.
Fuck.
No.
My hand itches to pull my gun, but not here and not on a woman, even one who deserves it.
“Apologize to Ms. Jones,” I seethe, “or we’ll sue you for defamation.”
“I’m your client,” Jessica scoffs. “You can’t sue me.”
“No, but she can.” I point to Harlow. “And we go way back, too, and Ms. Suttonwillwin on Ms. Jones’s behalf. So apologize now, or you have a lawsuit on our hands.”
Her husband begs, “Jessica, please, just…”
“Fine.” Venom drips from her lips, smiling at Ruby. “Sorry for calling you a whore for having sex with my husband and his friend. And for then beating you up and cutting your hair and giving you a seizure. But you seem fine now. It seems you’ve seduced your boss into fighting your battles for you.”
I snarl, “You fucking?—”
“Alright,” Harlow interjects calmly. “That’s enough. I won’t tolerate slander of anyone in my office. We’re done here. Mister and Missus Calloway, you may leave.”
“I’ll return my fee.” I glare at them. “You’re no longer my clients.”
“That’s five hundred thousand dollars!” John Calloway gulps, “And you don’t want it?”
“Not a fucking dime from either of you.” I shouldn’t swear, but it’s either that or I start firing bullets.
Harlow escorts them out, closing the door behind her, and I turn to Ruby, taking her hand. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“She did all that to you?”