Page 83 of By Rude Strength

“So…” LA’s stomach tightened. “There’s nothing you can do to help me.”

“Now I wouldn’t say that. There’s still the projected future medical expenses, which can be a pretty big chunk of change. Your employer has a solid workman’s comp carrier with deep pockets. Trust me. That’s a good thing.”

“But I can’t get my job back.”

“That would be at the discretion of your employer. Have they said anything about you not being eligible for rehiring?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

“There’s nothing that says that on paper, okay?” LA grumbled. “The HR chump made sure to mention though that I’d been written up for a few bogus things.” He cleared his throat. “But nobody ever said I wasn’t eligible for being hired back. They just dangled that stupid lifting requirement over my head.”

“Right.” Hughie paused again, but there wasn’t any typing. “Between me, you, and the gatepost, it sounds like they might have been looking for a reason to let you go. If there were some, let’s say, interpersonal issues? I know plenty of places who have made accommodations for their employees.”

LA didn’t want to mention that the funeral home had once done that for him too. That was before said write-ups, the arguments, and all the other bullshit. He sagged into the couch, his heart thumping miserably.

“Assuming that’s the case, you are certainly welcome to reach out to them yourself. Can’t say that me as your representation would do you much good.”

“Wait, why?”

“Once they smell a lawyer, especially one who deals with workman’s comp, they may shut down pretty hard. Also, it’sworth mentioning that when and if you want us to represent you and we settle, they will all but definitely request that you are denied eligibility for rehire.”

“So. I can’t actually sue them. I can’t make them hire me back. And if I try to get this medical whatever, I lose any chance of them hiring me ever again. Which it sounds like they don’t want to do anyway.”

“That’s about it, yeah.”

“Fuck.” LA winced. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Hughie soothed. “I know this probably isn’t what you wanted to hear or what you wanted, but we can definitely move forward with pursuing the settlement that I told you about.”

“And that’s just what? Money?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And how much do you guys charge?”

“We only get paid when you do, Mr. Holmes. We take twenty-five percent of your final settlement. I know it sounds like a lot, but we have one of the lowest—”

“Right. Great. Thank you.” LA grimaced.

“So, should I set up another time for us to discuss the details of your case?”

“I thought that’s what we just did.”

“Well, we’d need to get your permission to get access to your medical records, dates of treatment, things like that.”

LA’s head hurt. “Look, I’ll think about it, okay? I appreciate your help and answering all my questions.”

“So, about that appointment—”

“This is me hanging up now,” LA said firmly, biting back the flurry of curse words waiting on his tongue. “You have a good day now.” He hung up before he could hear another peep out of Hughie. He gritted his teeth and growled angrily, and he tossed his phone onto the coffee table.

Cass hovered nearby, but he seemed afraid to approach. “Elly?”

“What?”

“I…” Cass fidgeted. “What happened?”