Sleepwalker by Rachel Ember

Author:Rachel Ember [Ember, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Chestnut Press, LLC

Ten

OLIVER

Monday

At eleven a.m. on the dot, Oliver rolled back his chair and paused the software that was timing his work for one of their biggest, oldest clients, a cotton manufacturer who was now being sued for patent infringement on a dyeing process. It was a straightforward case to defend, but tedious.

The file on the corner of his tidy desk caught Oliver’s eye. He slid it closer and opened the cover. Blake’s name—which he hadn’t seen or heard in its entirety before that day in court—was written on the inside flap.

Oliver needed to get out of the case.

But instead of typing up a notice of appointment of a special judiciary, like he’d decided to do, he found himself thumbing through to the last page.Oliver’s phone rang. Not his cell, but the unit on his desk.

Oliver used his cell almost exclusively, even—especially—with clients. But just as there were still legal assistants in the building who printed out the email and typed up all of the dictated documents for the elder statesmen in the firm, there were still landline telephones.

“Oliver Grayson speaking,” Oliver said in the bright and focused tone of voice best employed with the people responsible for his generous salary.

“Grayson! If you have a minute, could you come by my office?”

Oliver was almost certain he knew to whom he was speaking, but he leaned over to read the phone display just to be sure. “Of course, Chuck. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Chuck had one of the corner offices, but it wasn’t all that much larger than Oliver’s. The main difference was its extra window and a street view. Chuck’s desk was mostly clear, except for his variety of little figurines, puzzle toys, and collections of branded pens. Now, the man was rocking himself back and forth in his large, Walland-orange office chair that struck such a horribly stark contrast to all of the golden tones of the woodwork surrounding him. A big, balding man with beetling white eyebrows and perpetually crooked, square-framed black glasses, he reminded Oliver of a less romantic Walter from UP.

Oliver sat down across the desk from Chuck and crossed his legs, his smile carefully pleasant, and braced himself for whatever was about to happen. One could never predict Chuck.

“So, we’ve got some good news and some bad news,” Chuck said, looking down his nose and over the rims of his glasses at Oliver, putting his wayward eyebrows on excellent display.

“Well,” Oliver murmured, “I think I’d prefer to begin with the good news.”

“Oh.” Chuck looked stricken. “I don’t think it can really be relayed in that order.”

Oliver snorted before he could stop himself. “Well then, fire away.”

“Right.” Chuck cleared his throat. “Ted’s been on my ass. He wants you back in Denver.”

Somehow, though Oliver considered himself generally prepared for anything, this shocked him—the idea of returning to Colorado, something he’d been anticipating since he’d come to Canton eight years ago.

“So, that’s bad news,” Oliver said slowly.

“That’s neutral news,” Chuck clarified. “And it goes hand-in-hand with the bad news, which is that Bill Decker has been let go.

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