Page 8 of Devious Roses
When I madethe decision to pursue a law career, I was doing so out of expectation. Out of my desire to please my father and make him happy.
When I made the decision to go into private practice, I was finally making a career move for myself and myself only.
Adams & Jean-Louis Group, Attorneys at Law and Public Relations Agency is still a small-time firm. I have a staff of about eight. That doesn’t include our summer interns.
I handle the legal side of the house with help from Carlos Quintino, a former ADA coworker of mine at city hall, and a couple of paralegals and secretaries.
Medjine manages the public relations element of our firm. I hadn’t planned on going into business with her, but when she heard I was starting my own law firm, she jumped at the chance. She had been unhappy for a while at her PR Agency, secretly hoping for another opportunity.
Almost a year into our business, I’ve never felt more fulfilled with my career.
I arrive at the office to a smile from Cirie, our legal secretary.
“This is a first,” she says. “You’re in after we are. Busy morning?”
I return her smile with thoughts of Salvatore. “You have no idea.”
“You have a new client that’s here to see you. She’s in the waiting area fussing with her phone. Should I send her in?”
“Sure, I love hitting the ground running.”
I’ve barely set my things down and gotten situated behind my desk before my new client shows up. She shuffles into my office clutching her phone to her chest and her purse tightly on her shoulder, with a shy smile pasted onto her mouth.
Her nerves become a feeling in the air.
I’m more distracted by the familiar face. It’s surreal enough that I question if it’s a prank of some sort.
Sasha Newton enters my office in a crop top and ripped jeans, her long box braids dangling far down her back.
“Hello, Ms. Adams.” Her shy smile spreads.
I stammer responding. “Sasha Newton? I… wasn’t expecting you.”
“No one would be. Can I?” At the stiff nod of my head, she sits down in the chair opposite my desk. Her hands and cell phone rest in her lap, though her fingers pick at the frayed string from the jeans she wears.
I take in her nervous body language with a stomach of my own nerves. Is Sasha here to confront me about the time I assumed her identity at a Neptune Society party?
Cirie had said she was anew client…
“What can I, uh, do for you, Ms. Newton? Would you like some coffee? Tea? Water?”
She shakes her head. “I appreciate you making the time for me. I wasn’t sure how to go about this. It’s taken a lot just to get here.”
“You mean from Lunsbury?”
A frown replaces the shy smile. “No… I mean from what happened to me. I… I thought you knew. The Neptune Society party you attended.”
So she does know.
I rein in any reaction that’s less than professional. My tone remains even, my expression too. “Ms. Newton, I’m going to need you to be very specific on why you’re here, and how I can help you. It seems you are aware that for an evening, I attended a Neptune Society event and used your name as my alias.”
“I’ve been missing for three years. Who do you think was behind it?”
Despite my efforts to remain neutral, my brows knit. “Are you saying the Neptune Society—”
“My grandfather never protected me,” she interrupts on a bitter note. “He… he allowed me to be taken by them.”
“You were at the Mill,” I whisper.