Bruce replied easily, his demeanor relaxed, as if his working straight through the morning and lunch without a break was commonplace.
“I hope turkey sandwiches are okay,” Angela said as she handed Bruce the deli bag.
“Perfect,” Bruce said.
“They’re fine,” Christina agreed with a nod. Ever since she’d been pregnant with Bella, sliced turkey had held little appeal, mostly she ate vegan. But today she’d force herself to eat whatever sandwiches were in the bag. Her stomach growled. After all, it was after one.
Angela passed Christina the sack. “I bought two kinds of potato chips. Bruce likes sour cream and onion, but I got you plain, Ms. Jones.”
“Christina,” she corrected. “Plain chips are fine. Thank you for getting lunch.”
Angela smiled. “Oh, it’s no problem. I know how driven Bruce is. He wouldn’t eat at all if I didn’t force-feed him. Besides, I had an excuse to get a chicken salad sandwich from Kim’s Deli. Ever since I’ve been pregnant, I’ve craved her chicken salad.”
Angela paused. “So, do you require anything else? The small fridge on the floor over there is stocked with water and pop.”
Christina wished she’d known that earlier. Her throat was parched, and some soda would do her good. Having been raised in Houston, where everyone called the fizzy beverage “soda,” Christina still hadn’t gotten used to calling it “pop” the way these Indiana Midwesterners did.
“I think we’re fine,” Bruce said. His expression dared Christina to contradict him.
“I’m good,” she said. She pushed her chair back a little. “If you’d excuse me for a moment, though.”
“The women’s washroom is this way,” Angela offered, as if reading Christina’s mind. She held open the door, and Christina followed her out. Time to find more common ground and make some connection with Angela. If not, it would be long case.
“My feet are already tired. Is there a masseuse in there?”
“I wish,” Angela said, taking the bait and talking. “I’ve gained two shoe sizes. My husband has the nightly chore of rubbing my feet. He hates it, but it’s heaven for me.”
“You’re lucky to have a husband like that.” Kyle hadn’t done a thing except complain that when pregnant, she’d appeared as if she had a basketball wedged under her clothes.
“Oh, my Bryan is such a sweetheart,” Angela confirmed. “We got married two years ago and it still seems like a honeymoon.” Angela paused at the bathroom door. “You seem really nice, Christina. Don’t let Bruce get you down. He’s a slave driver, but that’s only because he’s so good at his job. He can’t do anything less than one hundred and ten percent. It’s not in his nature.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m fine,” Christina insisted.
Angela bought the white lie, for she said, “Perfect. He’s a great boss. He really knows his stuff. Scored the highest on the bar, as I’m sure you’ve heard. And whatever you do, don’t believe any of his so-called Casanova reputation. All made up by angry Morrisville women who can’t land him. He’s too married to his work. Anyway, call me if you have any more questions.”
“I will,” Christina said as she pushed the door open and stepped inside the women’s washroom. After finishing her business and washing her hands, she took a long moment to study herself in the mirror. Tendrils of wheat-colored hair had come loose, and she pinned them back up. Her brown eyes were puffy, the result of her thinking she’d get an extra hour of sleep during “fall back.” Thank goodness for Angela bringing food. When Christina had fled the house that morning, she hadn’t given a thought to lunch. Tomorrow she’d pack one.
She headed back to the small conference room. Bruce was on the phone, the remains of his sandwich lying on the restaurant wrapper. Next to it sat a twenty-ounce bottle of cola, half-full.
“Go research the dissenting opinion on Martin v. Blatt. The judges locked two-one on it, and the uproar was so strong that the legislature went and voted in a law claiming that justice wasn’t served. I think you’ll find what you’re wanting for your closing arguments there. The minute I hang up, I’ll put Jessica on it and have her fax you the documents.”
Bruce gestured toward Christina’s unopened food as he listened to the caller. Eat, he mouthed before speaking into the phone again. “No, I wouldn’t even open that can of worms. You don’t want the jury off track from the main case. Always hammer your point, and reiterate that justice should be served.” He paused. “Yeah. See you at five.”
He hung up the phone and stared for a moment at Christina. “Get some pop.”
He then pressed a button on the phone. “Jessica, Bruce. Dig up the dissenting opinion on Martin v. Blatt and get it over to Colin at Ripley, ASAP. Yeah. It’s that important. No, I’m not going over there myself today. Just put a move on it. As if the deadline was yesterday. Colin is counting on you.”
He ended the speakerphone call and raised his eyes to observe that Christina was still standing. “What? Do I have food on my face?”
“No.”
“I work through lunch,” Bruce offered as explanation. “Always have. It’s more efficient than taking five minutes to go outside and stare at the birds. Too cold for that, anyway, now that the front moved through last night.”
Christina walked over to the refrigerator and withdrew a 7-Up. Although she could use the caffeine, there was no Mountain Dew and she didn’t like colas.
“That was Colin Morris,” Bruce said, unexpectedly explaining the phone call. “You’ll meet him at some point, I’m sure. He’s a junior partner like me. He’s also Reginald’s son.”
“He needed help on a case?”
“Surprises are never desired in closing arguments, and the opposing counsel just landed a whopper. But Colin will rebound. He always does.”
“And you just popped the answer right off the top of your head.”
“Yeah.” Bruce let the words, “I’m that good a lawyer” remain unspoken, but Christina heard them and was begrudgingly impressed. “I have a photographic memory and I’m good at trivia. One of these days I’d like to go on Jeopardy”
“I don’t watch much television.” She didn’t. Bella had discovered the cartoon channels. When she was married, Kyle had had a VHS-DVD-CD player and a plasma TV in every room. Christina had little use for more than one TV and a DVD player.
“So, where were we?” Bruce asked as she unscrewed the cap and put the soda bottle to her lips.
“I’d like a few minutes to eat in peace,” Christina said. “Unlike you, I deliberately avoid working through lunch. That way I can have some time to clear my mind. I’d go find my office, but that would take too much time.”
“They really did just throw you into the job feet first, didn’t they? Fine. Eat.” Bruce tapped his fingers on the table.
“Stop that,” Christina
