I TAP MY PEN ON my desk as I wait for Mary O’Conner, attorney-at-law, to pick up my call. Her office is in New York, so thankfully we’re in the same time zone. I have my notes in front of me, including a giant stack of printed-out caselaw to back up my arguments. If she thinks she’s going to get off this call without coming over to my way of thinking, she’s dead wrong. I’ve practiced my speech for hours.

The elevator music playing over the line cuts off and a woman’s voice comes through the phone. “Mary O’Conner.” She sounds pretty tough, but I’m the biggest badass this side of the Mississippi, so I’m not impressed.

“Hello, Mary, this is Ridlee Taylor from Tanner-Scott in Boston.”

“Hello again, Ridlee, how are you?”

“Excellent. Listen, do you have a few minutes to discuss the Flanagan-O’Neill matter?”

“Sure do. I’m free for the next ten minutes.”

“Perfect. I’m putting you on speaker, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’m going to do the same.”

“Great. So…” I press the speaker phone button and put the handset down in the cradle. “I did some research into the caselaw…”

“Yes, and let me just stop you right there.” She sounds tired. “I don’t want you to waste your time with this. The last time we talked, I’d just been handed the file and had only had a brief conversation with my client, Mr. Flanagan.”

“Uh-huh…” I have no idea where she’s going with this, but I’m familiar with that tone of voice. She’s about to apologize. I’m afraid to get too excited about it, though, because she might just be sorry that she hasn’t had time to do anything on the case.

She continues. “Since then, I’ve done some research.”

My heart starts to race a little. “And…?”

“And I found what you probably already had in your files. He doesn’t have a case for misrepresentation, fraud, or negligence.”

I want to drop to my knees and kiss the carpet, but I restrain myself, somehow managing to still sound professional. “Thank you. That’s exactly the legal conclusion that I’ve come to.”

She sighs. “I guess I’m not exactly clear why you’re calling, then.”

I have to think about that for a few seconds because I have no idea what she’s saying. “Ummm… to discuss the case? See what we need to do to wrap things up?”

“No, I mean, I talked to my client over a week ago and he told me … well, obviously, I can’t tell you what he told me, but suffice to say we’re not filing suit.”

“Was that on your advice? Can you tell me that?”

“No, not really.” I can sense that she wants to tell me, but the rules of the Bar forbid it.

I chew my lip, trying to figure out how to get her to tell me what I want to know. When the line goes mostly dead, save for the sounds of shuffling paper on her end, I start talking, worried she’s going to end the call before I can do any more recon. “Can I be honest with you? Off the record, so to speak?”

“You can do whatever you want. I’m not going to report you for any Bar violations if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean … you and I both know Michaél never had a case. He’s apparently known this for quite some time. So why is he still at the bar, still working there and living with Erin under the guise of evaluating the business?”

“You’d have to ask him that.”

“I don’t know whether he’ll be truthful with me. I’ve met him a few times, and although he came here and gave my friend a huge headache, I’ve always gotten the impression that he’s basically a good guy.”

“I really don’t know him that well.” Her voice goes a little softer, losing some of its hard edge. “I’ve only talked to him on the phone, and I would agree with your assessment. I don’t think he ever came at this with bad intentions. And to be honest, I’m not even sure that he ever wanted more of the business than he already received.”

I’m fascinated. “Really…” Now things are getting interesting. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know. You know I can’t share our conversations, but I will tell you that it’s my first instinct with business cases to go in hard and fast, knock the opposition on its derriere. He didn’t want that. He was always … very conscious of Erin’s feelings, I’ll put it that way. I think he cares for her, outside of a business context.”

“Uhhhh-huh. Well. That’s very informative. Listen, thanks for everything. I appreciate your candor and your understanding.”

“No problem. Maybe if I’m ever in Boston I could meet you for a coffee? We’re always looking to make connections in other big cities where our clients do business.”

“Where exactly are you in New York?” Now that I know Erin’s in the clear, I’m curious about what Mary O’Conner does that doesn’t include Michaél, the love-scammer, Flanagan.

“Manhattan. Fifth Avenue.”

“Oh, boy. Swag. I love that area.”

“It has its ups and downs like anywhere else.” Someone comes into her office and talks in the background, interrupting her. Then she comes back sounding harried. “Shoot, I have to go. Let me know if you need anything else; otherwise, I’m considering this matter closed.”

I can’t keep the smile from my voice. “Excellent. Take care. Call me if you’re ever in Boston.”

“Likewise.” She cuts the call off and I jump to my feet, doing a happy dance. I’m busy doing the cha-cha-cha, using the reflection of my window as a mirror to admire my moves when a voice interrupts me from my doorway.

“A-hem, excuse me, Ridlee?”

I turn around to smile at my assistant. “Hey, Hilary. What’s up?”

“Did we win a case that I didn’t hear about yet?” She’s smiling, already accustomed to my particular brand of celebrations for awesomeness.

“Kind of.” I stop shucking and jiving and take my seat.

“Okay, well, line two is for you. It’s Erin.” Hilary grimaces. “She’s kind of freaking out.”

“No worries, I’ve got this.” I pick up the line and wait for my door to close before I start talking.

“Hello? Is this Ridlee?” Erin is most definitely freaking. I can tell from her tone and a strange echo around her that she’s calling me from a bathroom stall.

“Yes, it’s Ridlee. What’s up? By the way, I have some good news for you.”

She sighs out her exasperation. “Okay, shit. Now I don’t know whether to talk first or ask you what the good news is.”

“Let me save you the dilemma. I just talked to Michaél’s attorney. They’re not going to file suit against you. It’s over.”

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” She’s whisper-squealing, so yeah, she’s hiding somewhere, probably from Michaél himself.

“And that’s not the best part,” I add.

“It’s not? Okay, I’m about to pee myself. Don’t keep me in suspense any longer. Tell me now.”

“Apparently, he’s known this for quite some time. Maybe even from the beginning.”

“What?!”

“Uh-huh. And while his attorney couldn’t share their conversations with me, she did let me know that she got the impression that he never really wanted to file suit in the first place. He was always very worried about you.”

“Holy shit, what does that even mean?” she whines. “I’m so confused right now.” She’s breathing heavily right into the phone, like some kind of pervert. “Tell me what to do, Rid. Just tell me. I’ll do whatever you tell me to, no questions asked.”

I laugh. “And blame me when things go south? No thanks.”

“Ridlee! Don’t you dare hang up!”

“I’m not hanging up. What did you call me for?”

She immediately calms down. “Oh. Right. I called because I wanted your advice. Michaél’s asked me to show him the town. We’ve called for a tentative peace accord. He didn’t sleep with Marnie.”

“Who in the hell is Marnie?”

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Tell me what to do.”

“Since when did you become so helpless?” I’m trying not to laugh. She’s so freaking out right now.

“I’m not helpless! It’s just that my brain has decided to ride in the back seat while my libido takes the wheel. I can’t trust my decision-making skills at the moment.”