by Alexa Davis
Alma answered our ad in the Times and was the only candidate all three of us could agree upon. She was in her early sixties and had run the front office of a small law firm in San Diego for thirty years before the lawyer (her husband) had dropped dead of a heart attack while meeting with a client about a murder charge. She'd moved to Los Angeles to be closer to her grandchildren and wasn't ready to retire quite yet. She ran our office with an iron fist and idiosyncrasies that ranged from having everything on her desk placed at a ninety-degree angle to calling the three of us by our surnames, and while we'd tried to get her to call us by our first names, Alma was old school and refused to budge.
"Alma, have you seen Roger or Jordie this morning?" I asked as I walked toward my office.
"Not yet, Ms. Raines, but I'm anticipating their arrival in just a few minutes."
"Very well. When they get here, will you please have them stop by my office?"
"Indeed, I will," she replied, making a note on the pad she kept sitting on the far right edge of her desk. Alma was nothing if not extremely organized, and she kept a running list of every single thing that needed to be done on the notepad, which she tucked into a locked drawer every night before she left work.
I walked into my office and stood in the middle of the room contemplating the situation. Jordie, Roger, and I had gone to law school together and then spent two years working as public defenders. By the time we'd hit the two-year mark, we were all burned out and ready for something that would give us a chance to actually practice law rather than play games with the justice system. We were naive, but we had the best of intentions as we set out on our own.
As a young law firm, we dealt with a variety of clients, mostly people looking to beat DWIs and petty crime, and occasionally taking on some contract and tax law cases. We weren't experienced enough to pick and choose, so we took everything that came our way and hoped that at some point we'd attract a case that would bring us a lot of attention – and clients. But we were going on two years in business and things were still depressingly slow.
We were barely scraping by, and now we were facing a crisis of funds that would threaten to shutter the practice if we didn't do something to turn the ship around.
"Morning Brooke," Jordie said as he stuck his head in the door and waved at me.
"Hey, Jordie!" I called as I got up from my desk and walked out into the hallway. "Where's Rog?"
"He's on his way in," he said as he started to go through his mail. "Texted me something about getting caught on the 101."
"He was with a new girl again?" I laughed.
"Yeah, I don't know what that's about," he said shaking his head. "But then again, I never have."
"Jordie, we need to talk about the firm and how we're going to make this work past the summer," I said, changing the trajectory of the conversation.
"I know," he said. "I've been thinking about it a lot and I think I might have a solution, but we need to talk about the positives and negatives."
"Hey guys," Roger called as he walked past my open door on his way to the coffee pot. "How's it hanging?"
"Late night, Rog?" I asked in a knowing tone.
"Hell yeah," he said. "She was super hot, and I think I'm in love!"
Jordie and I exchanged a grin and a pair of eye rolls. Roger was in love, on average, about three times a month. He'd meet a new girl, fall head over heels, and then before he knew it, she'd dump him and move on to greener pastures. Roger didn't blame them, but he couldn't see that their initial interest in him was always as a lawyer with great earning potential. Once they found out the reality of his situation, they were less enamored.
"We need to have a sit down," I called after him.
"Okay, but let me make this quick call," he said as he disappeared into his office.
"We've lost him again," Jordie sighed.
"Nah, he's just on the upswing of the female roller coaster," I said. "He'll be on his way back down in no time."
CHAPTER FIVE
Dax
"Welcome to the monthly meeting, everyone," I said as I walked into the room and stood at the head of the table. Around the table sat fifteen members of the Southern California Sales Alliance. We'd agreed upon the name several years ago when the Feds started cracking down on dealers. The name added legitimacy to our organization and, more importantly, kept us somewhat under the radar.
"How's everyone doing?" I asked as I looked around the table and noted who was there and who was missing. I made a mental note to tell Riza to check out the missing members and their connection to Lydia.
"The first order of business is the issue of respecting boundaries," I said and the room erupted in a cacophony of voices all trying to get the first word. I held up my hand to silence the group and then continued, "Look, I don't care who is doing what to whom, what I want is for everyone to respect the boundaries we've drawn and stop trying to sneak over the lines. I know business is rough, but if we start fighting each other, we're all gonna go down hard."
"I'm not gonna lie, Dax," said Southside Rudy. "We're hustling to make a stack and sometimes my people cross over the line, but that's customer service, man. If we respect the customers, we're all gonna win."
"Bullshit, Rudy," said Reverend. "You're crossing the lines knowing full well that it starts a skirmish with my people every damn time!"
"Gentlemen," I said quietly. "I don't care what the reason is for the crossing of boundaries, no one is going to do it again. Am I understood?"
"Yeah," they all grumbled as they eyed each other suspiciously.
"If I hear of anyone failing to stay within their own boundaries, I'm gonna come down hard," I warned. "I'm not fucking with you. Stay in your own territory or pay the price."
The room went silent as the message sunk in. They knew I wasn't kidding, and they also knew that my definition of consequences was swift and merciless. I'd learned the hard way from Papi to keep a lid on the business or pay the ultimate price.
We quickly covered our new business and wrapped up the meeting. I had been watching Riza out of the corner of my eye and knew that she had something to report. I shook hands with everyone and told them they were welcome to stay and enjoy a night at the club, but we all knew it was just a courtesy. None of the members of SoCSA wanted to be caught in my club after dark. Still, manners are what separate us from the animals.
"What's up?" I asked as I gestured for Riza to follow me.
"I think I've got a line on what happened to Lydia," she said checking her phone for the hundredth time. "I got a tip from one of the corner boys over on the west side. I'm gonna go check it out."
"You want to take Dozer with you?" I asked.
"Nah, better if I just go in casual and not act like we're ready to start a war," she grinned.
"You sure you can handle it?"
"Don't be an asshole, Dax," she said seriously. "Of course I can handle it. You should know that by now."
"I do, but I don't like sending you in blind, that's all," I said, studying her carefully. Something was bothering Riza, but until she decided to tell me what it was, I wasn't going to know a thing. She'd also grown up with Papi, so at times, we were like two brick walls facing one another.
"I know, I know," she waved me off with no hard feelings and then turned to head out to the meet.
"Riza," I called. "Be careful."
"I always am, boss." She smiled. "I always am."
CHAPTER SIX
Brooke
"We have to do something to generate a positive cash flow, guys," I said. We were sitting around the big oval table in the conference room that we'd outfitted to impress clients. The room was a testament to Jordie's impressive design skills and the functionality of modular furniture bought at one of the office furniture outlet stores near Skid Row. It was impressive, but that wasn't helping us attract clients, only impress them once we got them in the door.
"Chill out, Brooke," Roger said as he sipped coffee from a cup that said “Hang Ten” and �
��Chillaxe” on the side in red letters. His surfer dude attitude irritated me.
"Chill out? You want me to chill out, do you?" I said, fighting to hide my irritation. "We're months behind in everything except our insurance payments, and we have exactly three clients on our roster. I'm not sure why you're advocating the 'chill out' approach when what we really need is a 'step it up and get some business' approach."
"Look, don't stress out on me," Roger began.
"Stress out on you? Stress out on you?" I shouted. "I'm stressed out in general, and it might help if you were a little less chilled!"
"Guys, guys, guys," Jordie intervened. "It's not going to help if we start attacking one another. We need a game plan, so let's focus our considerable brain power on formulating one, shall we?"
I shot Roger a dirty look as he gave Jordie a thumbs up and a lopsided smile. Jordie's look pleaded with me to relax, so I sank back in my chair and waited to hear what he had to say.
"We need to expand the practice and attract new clients, that's for sure," he said. "But what we really need is a just one really high profile case that will get our firm on the front pages."
"Oh, so we need to find someone who's a murderer or something," I said dully.
"Well, that would be ideal," Jordie replied. "But it's probably not very likely, so we need to look at some of the sketchier elements in town and see if there's anything we can do to get them to use our services."
"Oh, cool," Roger said. "So, we need to get in bed with the mafia? All Godfather and shit?"
"Roger," I warned. The other reason Roger infuriated me was that his cool surfer dude persona was totally an act. He talked like a lunkhead while the three of us were together, but when he got in a room with a client or in a courtroom in front of a judge, he was as sharp as a tack and didn't miss a beat.
"What?"
"Guys, I'm serious," Jordie said. "We need a high profile case – just one – then we win it and everyone will flock to us for help."
"But what about the illegal activities of the folks you are talking about attracting?" I asked.
"Brooke, seriously," Jordie said. "Everyone deserves legal representation."
"Even the bad guys?" I asked.
"Dude, the bad guys need it most of all," Roger interjected. "They always get the short end of the stick and never the benefit of doubt. They have to work ten times harder to prove they're innocent, whether or not they are. I think these are the kinds of cases we could really win."
"So, what do we do when we're defending drug dealers and thugs?" I asked.
"We represent them," Jordie said. "We don't lie; we simply represent them to the best of our ability."
"Jesus, Brooke," Roger said in an exasperated tone. "You need to come down off your high horse and join the real world where things aren’t all good or evil and black or white!"
"Wait a minute, that's not fair!" I shouted. "You're the one who is always bouncing between extremes, not me!"
"What the hell are you talking about?" he shouted.
"I mean, you're in love with a new woman every other week, but you can't see the forest for the trees!" I yelled. I had a vague sense in the back of my mind that I was now being unreasonable, but Roger had a tendency to push me over the edge – kind of like my brother, Teddy, did.
"What the hell does my love life have to with this firm's clients?" he yelled.
"It's an indication of your inability to make sound judgments when it comes to clients and business!" I knew I was treading on thin ice, but my frustration overruled my brain and I headed perilously close to the edge.
"Oh really?" Roger said with a raised eyebrow. "If we're going to start judging each other based on our romantic relationships, then I'd say that you're at the base of our problem, Brooke."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"You take perfectly good men and crush them under the weight of your expectations about how much they can take when it comes to your devotion to your job," he said calmly. "I'd say that about defines the problem, wouldn't you?"
Dumbfounded, I stared at Roger. He'd hit a nerve and I could feel the blow reverberating through my body. I took a deep breath and said, "Fuck you, Roger."
"Truth hurts, doesn't it, baby girl?"
"Dammit, you two!" Jordie shouted. "I'm so sick and tired of your constant attempts to top each other and prove you're each the alpha dog. Fuck you both! This is my firm, too, and I want to do something to save it, not tear it apart and leave the pieces in the gutter!"
No one said a word for a couple of minutes and then Roger muttered, "I'm sorry."
"Me too," I replied.
"Back to work?" Jordie said hopefully.
"Back to work." I nodded and we sat down and started to map out a plan for saving our law firm.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dax
Hundreds of well-dressed young people came to Apex looking to dance, drink, and hopefully hook up. I aimed to give them everything they were looking for – and then some. A good portion of the club-goers had already been screened and checked and would be allowed into the roped-off portion of the club, where they could discreetly buy drugs from a number of waitresses who silently circulated carrying old-fashioned cigar trays on their voluptuous chests.
I watched the club fill up from my vantage point in the office above the dance floor and tried to figure out how I would manage to keep things running smoothly until Lydia returned. This had happened before, and I knew she wouldn't be gone long. It's just that this was the first time anyone except me knew that she was missing. All the other times, she'd called me from a sleazy motel somewhere outside of town and begged me to come pick her up, and every time I would.
At one point, I'd thought Lydia was the one. A leggy redhead whose personal and professional attitudes were the exact same, I admired her strength and was aroused by the challenge she constantly presented. The problem was that Lydia and I were so completely combustible and once her match lit my gasoline, we had problems. We spent a couple of years going back to each other again and again with disastrous results until we agreed that we could work together and, eventually, be friends, but we couldn't keep trying to make a relationship work – no matter how hot the sex was.
Lydia lived life on the edge. She hated being bored and lived for the thrill of new experiences, which was probably why she loved working with me. Once we'd set the boundaries of our professional relationship – and stuck to them – she went out looking for something to fill the space. I was often tempted to get back together with her just to stop the downward spiral of self-destruction, but she wouldn't allow it. So, I watched from the sidelines and cleaned up the messes.
Meanwhile, Lydia kept my organization out of trouble with the courts. She bailed my corner boys out and prevented the police from raiding the club or my hotel over on Grand Ave. No matter how messed up her personal life was, she kept her professional life in tiptop shape. I knew she’d been working on a new deal that would have put the firm on solid ground in the legitimate legal world. I knew she had worked incredibly hard to establish herself as a lawyer that people could trust. I was worried about this disappearance – it wasn't like her.
I looked back down at the floor and saw Beck walking toward the bar, closely followed by Riza. He seemed oblivious to her presence as he had a small curvy brunette tucked under his arm. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. Riza looked up at the two-way mirror and raised an eyebrow, then looked back at Beck and his date.
I quickly tapped out a message on the screen of my phone and hit send. I looked back down at the floor and saw Riza glance at her phone, then look up and nod. She turned and walked toward the back of the club, leaving Beck and his girl at the bar.
"He picked her up on Flower and then went to dinner before heading over here," Riza said as she walked into the office. "Seems legit, but I don't recognize her."
"I do," I said. "But I don't know why."
"You think she's a plant?"
"I don't know, but I do know that Beck is dumb enough not to recognize her if she is," I said as I looked out over the club and watched him falling for the petite girl. The feeling that I knew her was nagging at me, but we had bigger fish to fry. "Did you find out anything about Lydia?"
"Nah, no one's talking," she replied. "But I get the feeling that someone knows something. I just don't know who that someone is."
"Ri, do you think she's okay?" I asked.
"No idea, boss," she said. Her answer unnerved me because I knew that it meant that she was worried, too. If Riza had been sure that Lydia was just on another bender, she would have already tracked her down.
"Something feels very wrong, but I don't know what it is," I said. "We need to get a handle on this situation and lock it down, Ri. Otherwise, we're going to be hemorrhaging before we know it."
"What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to find Lydia and then figure out who this girl is that Beck's hooked up with," I said as I looked back out over the dance floor and watched Beck slow dancing to fast music with the little brunette. His hands were cupping her ass and the two of them were kissing. "And get them the fuck off the dance floor before they wind up getting arrested for indecent exposure, would you?"
"Sure thing, boss." Riza grinned as she saluted and headed for the door. Before she exited, she turned and said softly, "Dax, it's going to be okay. I'll find Lydia and make sure that Beck doesn't make an ass of himself."
"I hope so," I said as I massaged my temples and watched the floor. "I sure as hell hope you can work your magic to keep us out of trouble."
"I got your back, boss," she said and then she was gone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Brooke
Once we'd all calmed down, Roger, Jordie, and I spent the rest of the day mapping out a plan of attack. We decided to launch an Internet campaign that would be directed at those who ran with a faster and looser crowd than we'd been used to representing and see what it brought in.