

HOBART L. BURROWS, III, A LAW CORPORATION

REDUX

A Tale In The Encircling Belts Of Tirano Saga

by Shawn B. Thompson

Copyright 2013 Shawn B. Thompson

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-1-

I boarded the plane in Paris relieved that I wouldn't spend the rest of my life in a French prison. But when I stepped off the plane in San Francisco, I found a worse punishment waiting: Never again when I emerge from the concourse would Keiko be standing on her tiptoes looking for me. Never again would I be able to embrace her and kiss her lips. Instead, I would spend the remainder of my life in one universe and she in another, and my son with her. A son I would never see.

By the time the car service dropped me off at my home in Mill Valley, the sun was setting behind the green pinnacle of Mt. Tamalpais. When I was a child the orange glow of the sunset over the mountains always made me happy; it meant Santa's elves were baking cookies. I no longer believed in Santa and his elves, nor could I believe I'd ever be happy again. In the last three weeks I had lost the two things that had defined my existence: my partnership in Lott & Pembroke and the only woman I'd ever loved, Keiko. It only deepened my misery that the night before she left, Keiko told me she was pregnant with our son.

Of those three weeks, I'd spent the last two locked up in a cold cubicle in a French jail. Except for a few catnaps, I couldn't sleep. Who could have in my place? The French cops had accused me of killing six people.

I didn't want to think about any of that misery. I wanted to go to bed and sleep without remembering the nightmare of the last few weeks, so I took two sleeping pills. The little pills worked. Within minutes after I trudged into my house, I collapsed onto my bed's soft duvet.

I slept like a baby until she appeared. Keiko's image hovered like a human-sized Tinker Bell against the background of the blackness of sleep. She wore the vermilion trumpet gown of Tirano's High Sibyl. She was as beautiful as ever with her almond-shaped hazel eyes, enchanting smile on glistening pink lips, and silky black hair with a loose strand curling around one ear. I could even smell the musky perfume she always wore.

"Hobie, do you remember the moment before the shuttle left for Tirano when I lifted my pendant to your implant," she said in her lilting accent that emphasized the last syllable of most words.

I remembered the pleasant tingle when she'd touched my implant. She'd promised that we'd be together again someday. My heart beat faster and chased away my three-week long gloom. My wish had somehow been granted. She'd returned.

Her fingers rubbed the fire opal pendant on her trine necklace. "I promised you some of Vision's Archives so you could understand why Caykondra the High Sibyl returned to Tirano when Keiko Nidara would never have."

A black void swallowed my joy. "You're not back, are you? You're only memories downloaded to my implant. It'll be just like it was with Quincy's implant of his Tarnlot memories. The only time I'll be able to see you is when I'm asleep. I'll only have virtual reality dreams of things from the past."

She gave me a tentative smile. "It will be better. My download is interactive. We can discuss anything we want. Like why it's taken you so long to return?"

"What do you mean?"

"I set my program to activate when you returned to Mill Valley, but my chronometer shows it's been more than two weeks since I left for Tirano. Where have you been? What happened?"

I took a deep breath. "It's so complicated I don't know where to start, or if I even want to talk about it right now."

She gave me that half smile that always melted my heart. "Please. For me."

"You know I can never refuse you when you look at me like that."

She held her smile.

"After you left, I turned myself in to the Avignon police."

Her smile faded. "Why?"

"Because of the report Brad and Morgado filed with the police that we'd assaulted them and killed Quant. I knew I'd never get out of France otherwise. And even if I did, the police would track me down in Mill Valley. Since Brad and Morgado weren't around to follow-up and Quant's body would never be found, I figured Zhun'Mar had been correct; that the police would think their report was a hoax and I'd be released in a few hours. I have never been more wrong."

"Oh, Hobie. What did they do?"

"I couldn't believe it at first. They locked me up and accused me not only of killing Quant, but also you, Brad, Morgado, Zhun'Mar, and Mirae. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life in a French jail."

"But you're here now. How did you get out?"

"I decided my only chance was to tell the truth about what had happened, and they-"

Keiko cut me off. "The whole truth?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes widened. "You told them that we were aliens?"

I nodded.

"Whatever possessed you to do that?" Keiko's finger wrapped a strand of her hair around her ear. "Surely, you had to realize they would never believe you."

"I couldn't think of anything else. One of the first things they asked me was what happened to you and _Monsieur_ and _Madame_ Courtois. I knew that if lied and made up a story that I'd have to pile falsehood on falsehood. Sooner or later I'd stumble and tell some inconsistency they'd exploit to show I wasn't telling the truth. It'd only make it look like I had in fact killed all of you."

I took a deep breath. "I've always told my clients to tell the absolute truth when they testify. I decided to follow my own advice and tell the truth no matter how outrageous it seemed."

Keiko shook her head. "Oh, Hobie. Sometimes it doesn't hurt to hide the truth. If I had told you a month ago that I was an alien, you wouldn't have believed me. How could you expect them to believe you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Somehow telling the truth worked. When the _gendarmes_ finished questioning me, they called in three shrinks to interview me. I thought the shrinks were trying to decide if I was insane or a cold-blooded murderer. Even they must have believed me because it turned out the third one, Dr. Michel Avril, was really a cosmologist in the French government. He believed my story that Tarnlot showed me star maps of the fissure's cycle and that you, Zhun'Mar, and Mirae returned to Tirano through the fissure."

Keiko wrinkled her forehead. "Why would they call in a cosmologist from the government, and why would he believe you?"

"According to Dr. Avril, the French tracked your shuttle until it disappeared. They didn't know what it was, and the American government accused them of developing a stealth missile. I drew a star map of that night and your ship disappeared exactly where I showed Avril the fissure opened. He thinks he can eventually convince me to reveal the fissure's periodic openings so that the French can travel to your universe."

Keiko's eyes widened. "Did you tell them? Is that why they let you go?"

"Nope. I told him to go to hell. I wasn't going to take a chance that the Radani could access my knowledge of the fissure's cycles and destroy both Earth and Tirano."

Keiko nodded. "But why didn't he keep you in custody until you agreed to cooperate?"

"He threatened to, but I guess he realized I couldn't be coerced and changed his tactics. He tried to bribe me by promising I could go through with the first ship so I could make contact with you. Of course, I still refused, but he thinks I'll eventually change my mind. As a show of his good intentions, he released me."

"Isn't he afraid that you'll contact NASA with the information?

"He thinks I'll go to the CIA. He said the French would know where I was at all times and would never permit me to contact anyone but them."

Keiko squeezed her pendant. "Are you scared."

"Not really. The French can follow me forever, but I have no intentions to go near a CIA or NASA facility or any other government intelligence agency."

"Good. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Keiko rubbed her pendant. "How are you going to explain everything to our friends? Won't they be suspicious about my disappearance?"

"Avril took care of that. He released a news story that Hale and Morgado abducted you and Mr. and Mrs. Courtois in order to blackmail me. Supposedly, all of you died in a plane that crashed into the Mediterranean and the plane was never located. The story may serve to deflect suspicion from me, but I still don't know if I can face all the questions about what happened. But I'll worry about that later. All I want now is for you to snuggle to me so I can hold you tight."

"I'd hoped for that too." A tear formed in the corner of her eye. "1But the neuro Quincy implanted in you isn't capable of processing my virtual holo program by itself. I can appear like this, but I can't take a physical form."

That damned implant. First Quincy's Tarnlot memories that I never wanted, now this new torture. "So I'll be tormented by seeing you, talking to you, but never being able to touch you. I should have known that Tiranoan technology would grant my wish to see you again and thereby increase my sorrow."

Her tear trickled down her cheek, followed by another. "I couldn't have left for Tirano if I didn't know that at least this small part of me would remain with you. But I can't stand to see you so forlorn. If my being here like this makes you feel worse, I can uninstall the program and leave you in peace."

I'm no computer techie, but I knew what uninstall meant. I had to choose which would be worse. The pain of never holding her or the bitter-sweetness of seeing her in this way. If she uninstalled, I'd lose everything. I couldn't bear that.

"No, stay. If I can't have all of you, I'll take what I can get. This small part of you is better than facing life with nothing of you. I never want to face that gaping maw of emptiness again."

We stared at each other for the remainder of the night, neither saying a word. We did the same for the next two nights. During the days, I'd sit around the house doing nothing. I ignored all phone calls and stared blankly at the television. I'd slip off to a fast food place when I was hungry. I didn't even drink any wine. It would only have brought memories of happier times with Keiko. As soon as the sun set, I'd take two sleeping pills and go to bed.

On the fourth night Keiko spoke. "Hobie, you can't go on moping around all day, every day, doing nothing. You've got to accept that I'll only be with you at night."

"The only thing that keeps me going is knowing that I'll see you when I'm asleep. Nothing else matters. I want you so much that I'm tempted to reveal the fissure's cycle to Dr. Avril so that I can be on the first ship to your universe. Then we can really be together every night."

"Oh, Hobie. Don't do this to yourself. Even before I left, we weren't together every night. We never lived together, and even if we had, you were often out of town on business trips anyway. On those nights we were happy merely to talk on the phone. Just pretend that I'm on a business trip and this is our way of keeping in touch. Isn't this much better than a telephone call?"

"I know you're right, but how can I ever live with my choice to stay?"

"By drawing on your willpower. It took a strong person to make the choice the pinhole in time revealed to you. A choice that will save two universes from devastation by the Radani, provided I can bring my projection to reality."

I wrinkled my forehead. On Tirano, Sibyls perform computer probability projections to predict the future. I had no idea what she was talking about. "What do you mean? What projection?"

Keiko took a deep breath. "A projection made long ago. I had forgotten about it until I found out I was pregnant. I was afraid to show it to you because of what it contained. I thought it meant you were going to die."

My face must have shown that I had no idea what she meant.

She cupped her fire opal pendant in her hand and lifted it in front of her face. She rotated it in her fingers. It flashed yellow, then a vivid red that matched her trumpet gown. My implant began to tingle. In a few moments the creeping haze of sleepiness was replaced by kaleidoscope of colors that swirled until forming a rich azure sky. I seemed to float in the sky with a panoramic view of a vast city of stone buildings with spire roofs. Thousands of people streamed through five broad red bricked boulevards. Each boulevard lead to a mile wide square surrounding a white stone building. A building I knew from my dreams: Arvor Castel.

People swarmed into the square until several hundred thousand had squeezed into every available space. Small children perched on the nooks and crannies in the statues and fountains in an effort to view Arvor Castel. Thousands more remained behind in the boulevards, standing shoulder to shoulder as far as the eye could see. Only a black wrought iron fence surrounding the palace and a double row of stone-faced Vhirko guards kept the multitude from surging forward to the Castel's walls.

The multitude radiated a mood as festive as their vibrant robes of emerald, crimson, saffron, or deep yellow. A horn sounded a long low note followed by a short higher-pitched note and then another long low note. All movement stopped and the multitude hushed to silence. The horn sounded the notes a second time and all heads raised toward a small balcony at the center of the bleached-ivory tile roof of Arvor Castel.

The black steel portcullis leading to the balcony slid open and a tall black-haired man with a close-clipped, gray-streaked black beard walked onto the balcony. When he came into full view I recognized Zhun'Mar. A teenager walked on each side of Zhun'Mar: one a tall blond-haired girl with eyes the color of the sky and the other a diminutive boy with close-cropped red hair. Zhun'Mar stood for an instant on the balcony and then spun slowly in a circle. His brocade robe with golden vines embroidered on its right front flowed as he turned. The girl wore a similar ivory gown and without hesitating, she spun also. The boy inhaled, his eyes wide. The fire opal medallion hanging from the chain around his neck rose and fell on the front of his azure robe before he also turned in a circle.

When the three had completed the spin, the man raised his right arm and clenched his right fist. His ring finger was severed and he wore the Golden Vine Ring on his index finger. In unison the crowd erupted into a deafening roar of approval: "Hakut. Hakut. Tirano." The girl smiled an easy smile and also raised a clenched fist to the crowd. The boy hesitated, tentatively raised his arm.

Zhun'Mar smiled at the boy. "An awesome sight," he shouted to him over the reverberating din. "The people have reason for joy. The accession of Siniastra as heir to the Golden Vine Ring and your investiture as the first male to graduate from the Sibyl Legist Academy. Siniastra and Kuinsi, new leaders that represent the future of the Tirano."

A gentle tickling sensation vibrated the back of my neck. I opened my eyes. Keiko stared back at me, a tear in her eye. "That was a projection Vision gave me when I was a small child. Something I thought was a child's bedtime story she created for me. It wasn't. The boy, Kuinsi, is my, our, son."

"Is the girl our daughter?"

"No, she is Zhun'Mar and Mirae's daughter. The projection was that she and Kuinsi would form a team destined for greatness. She as Queen and Kuinsi as Lord Chancellor. They would rid the galaxy of the Radani menace."

I smiled. "What a wonderful projection. But why were you afraid to show it to me?"

Another tear fell from her eye. "The projection placed only me and our son on Tirano. Not you. I was afraid it meant you were going to die, and I didn't want to tell you. Now I know it meant something else: you choose not to go so our son could attain his destiny."

I tried to collect the myriad of thoughts colliding in my head. I didn't know where to start. "How can you know Mirae is Siniastra's mother?"

"When I checked Mirae's life signs after her injuries, I discovered that I wasn't the only one who became pregnant in the past few weeks with a healthy child. I know that Zhun'Mar. I'm certain he'll marry Mirae when he learns she bears his daughter. I always expected they were more than King and bodyguard."

"From my memories, I know you're correct about them. But I can't piece all of this together. Mhikhel and Tarnlot believed the heir had to be full-blooded Archonan. If Mirae is Siniastra's mother, doesn't that rule out Siniastra?"

Keiko shook her head. "You've only seen Tarnlot's memories. He never accepted that he knocked down all of the old prejudices and dragged the Archonan into realizing that one need not be pure Archonan to be capable of sitting on the Golden Vine Throne."

I was stunned. "Tarnlot believed with all his being that only an Arvor of full Archonan blood could sit on the Golden Vine Throne. I know he did whatever was necessary to make sure that could occur. I refuse to believe that he could've been so wrong."

"The one who changes long-standing prejudices is never aware of what he accomplished. He lives in the past while others accept the future. I won't permit that to happen to you."

-2-

When I awoke the next morning, I better than I had in weeks. For the first time since I'd returned from France, I craved a good breakfast and some strong coffee. I didn't have any food at home, so I had to go out. If I went to my usual breakfast spot, The Depot in Mill Valley, I'd probably see someone I knew and have to talk about Keiko. By now, everyone in the Bay Area would have read the news accounts of how she died in the plane crash after Brad and Morgado had abducted her. Some would even be brazen enough to ask me why Brad and Morgado wanted to blackmail me. Hell if I knew what to say; Dr. Avril hadn't bothered to call me to tell me that part of his story.

I decided I'd drive to a Starbucks in Corte Madera. None of my friends would expect to see me at a Starbucks and I could probably sit in a corner reading a Chronicle newspaper without being noticed. Afterwards, I could find a grocery store and do some shopping so that I wouldn't have to go out to a fast food joint again.

Even though the Starbucks was mostly empty, I should have known it wouldn't work as I'd planned. I'd no sooner sat down and taken the first sip of my latté when one of my worst nightmares walked into Starbucks: Jane Miller, Brad Hale's secretary. I could see the black rings under her eyes from crying and lack of sleep, probably over the demise of her beloved boss. No way could I offer any condolences. Before I could pull the newspaper in front of my face, she saw me.

I lowered my face and hoped she'd realize I didn't want to speak to her. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and scrunched her hooknose in her "what the hell are you doing" look. With that sneer on her face she made a beeline towards me.

She leaned over me like I was a truant and shook her finger. "Mr. Burrows, I blame you. Your constant carping at Mr. Hale made him snap. He would never have done any of it otherwise. And the firm fired me because I should have known. That scarecrow Beresford even hinted that I might have been involved. You've ruined my life. I hope you can live with yourself."

Before I could respond, she spun around and stomped out. I wondered what the hell was she meant. What could I possibly have done that would have caused her to be fired? Not that I really cared. She'd been one of my least favorite people, ever, at Lott & Pembroke because she was a female version of Brad: pushy, abrasive, arrogant. I wasn't the only one who hadn't liked her. My guess was that she made too much money and none of the other members of the firm wanted the hag as a secretary. Brad's death gave them an excuse to fire her and reduce overhead. A bit of Schadenfreude lifted my spirits. If Jane thought I had enough pull at L&P to get her fired, it wouldn't bother me.

Even though I spent the remainder of the day shopping for groceries and running errands around Mill Valley, I didn't encounter anyone else I knew. I almost wished I had so that I could learn more about what had happened at L&P after they read that Brad and Morgado were kidnappers.

When I returned home, the orange glow of sunset streaked over Mt. Tam. I couldn't wait to tell Keiko about Jane. Unfortunately, it was too early to go to bed and I'd decided not to take any more sleeping pills because I didn't want to become addicted. So after dinner, I stared at the television until I felt sleepy. It didn't work. After tossing and turning for a couple of hours, I realized I was so anxious to talk to Keiko that adrenalin was surging through my system.

An idea popped into my mind. I hadn't had a glass of wine since I'd returned from France. A glass of port might help me relax enough to fall asleep. One sip of the rich, oaky flavors told me I'd been a fool to deprive myself of the pleasures of wine. The port brought memories of Keiko, happy memories of the nights we shared a glass of port before bed. For the first time in weeks I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

The welcome sight of Keiko in her red trumpet gown greeted me.

"You won't believe what happened today," I said.

"I hope it was something good," she replied.

I nodded. "It provided some sense of justice."

"I'm intrigued," she said with her sly grin.

"I went to Starbucks for breakfast and ran into Jane, Brad's secretary. Actually, when she saw me, she practically attacked me. She started babbling about how I'd caused her to be fired."

Keiko arched her eyebrows and tilted her head. She always did that when I said something that confused her. I wanted so bad to reach out and caress her face. "Why would she say that?"

"I have no idea how she could blame me. She said Beresford was in on her firing. She must think I somehow convinced him to can her." I chuckled. "Talk about a wacko imagination. I couldn't fire her when I was there, but she thinks I managed to do it after I was fired."

I stopped chuckling. "I guess I shouldn't take any pleasure in her being fired. My being fired devastated me, and it obviously did her too."

The depression I thought I'd fought off resurfaced. "She's in the same hopeless boat I am. A loser cast adrift by L&P with no hope for the future."

Keiko's eyes narrowed into that look of disapproval she'd give me when I said something she didn't like. Even if it had been possible, I knew better than to try to touch her when she gave me that look.

"Hobie, enough is enough. You can't spend the rest of your life sulking about what you've lost. You've got to get on with your life. Find something to do that makes you happy, even if it's not the practice of law. That's what I want most."

"I don't know if I can. I never want to have to meet anyone I know. They'll want to know why I left L&P and what happened to you. I don't think I have the strength to deal with any of it."

Keiko's eyes narrowed even further. "The Hobie I love isn't a quitter. He wouldn't admit defeat and hide from his problems like a hermit. He'd use his years of legal experience to analyze his problem and decide how to master it."

"That's easy for you to say. I made my choice to stay and it's killing me. I don't know how I can possibly go on alone. You can't understand what it's like."

Her face turned red. "I know exactly what it's like. I, too, made a choice that cost me the one I loved. Or do you think you're the only one capable of having a broken heart? I'd hoped my download would help you, but damn it, I won't let it be the cause of you wallowing in self-pity. If I can't share my download with the man I love, a man who lives a full and happy life, I won't stay. Get a life or I'll uninstall."

Her words stunned me the same as if her pendant had lasered me. She might only be a computer program downloaded to my implant, but even so she saw the truth better than I could. I would only prolong my misery by continuing the way I had since I returned. I'm not sure why I hadn't recalled it previously, but I remembered how great I'd felt in Paris when I decided to open my own law firm. I'd been so invigorated at the thought of showing L&P that law could still be practiced in accordance with Quincy's principles as a profession, not as a business solely interested in making money. I could still do that.

Keiko must have mistaken my silence for refusal to accept what she said. "If you're going to sulk, I'm shutting down for the night."

"No, don't. I was just reflecting on what you said. I never had a chance to tell you before you left for Tirano, but while I was in Paris I realized that I wouldn't be happy going into the wine business with you. I'm a lawyer, and despite what they think at L&P, a damn good one. I decided to start my own law firm. I made up my mind to go solo and form my own law corporation: Hobart L. Burrows, III, A Law Corporation. That way I could work only for clients I respect and wouldn't have to fight with partners about money."

The smile on her lips said everything. "I never really thought you'd be happy selling wine at my store. You need the intellectual challenge of solving legal problems. And I have your first set of problems."

I wondered what she was talking about. What kind of legal problems could a vision in my head have?

She must have sensed my uncertainty because she gave her little half-smile that told me she had a surprise up her sleeve. "Are you forgetting the obvious? Everyone thinks I'm dead. Therefore, everything I own passes to my trust, of which you're now the trustee. You have a fiduciary duty to take care of my estate. There's an apartment to sell and a business to wind up. And you have to do a good job because you insisted that I require that all of the trust proceeds be donated to charity."

She knew what would motivate me. "Why didn't you mention all of this days ago?" I asked.

"I had to wait until the proper moment. Your confrontation with Brad's secretary gave me the opportunity. It made you think about L&P and the practice of law. I just needed to provide a little nudge that would make you see the obvious."

Even though I knew it wouldn't be real, I puckered my lips and gave her a kiss. She did the same.

-3-

When I woke, I grabbed a post-it pad and sat down at the kitchen counter to list the things I needed to do for Keiko's trust. The first thing I wrote on the list was to talk to a real estate agent who could give me an idea of the value of Keiko's condo. That should be an easy item to complete. Georgia Pfals had helped several lawyers at L&P find condos in San Francisco. I'd never met her, but everyone spoke so highly of her that I decided to call her. She was free that afternoon and we agreed to meet at the condo at 1:30.

I arrived a few minutes early in case Keiko's apartment needed to be tidied up. It took all my effort to enter the building's elevator and push the button for Keiko's floor. That was the easy part. I stood in front of the door to her apartment for several minutes. The apartment had always been filled with Keiko's presence; now it would only contain memories of the happiness I'd lost. My hand shook as I inserted the key to unlock the door.

Before I could turn the key I heard the elevator door open. "Oh, you must be Mr. Burrows," a husky female voice said.

I jerked my head toward the voice and saw a buxom woman walking towards me.

"I didn't mean to startle you," she said. "I'm Georgia Pfals." She stuck out her hand. "I always like to arrive early and get a feel for the neighborhood and the building before I meet my client."

I shook her hand. She struck me as a once attractive brunette who over the years had added a few pounds. Her red lipstick, rouge, and painted eyebrows failed to hide the wrinkles from too many afternoons of sunbathing at the beach.

"Glad to meet you," I said. "I haven't been to the apartment since . . ." I bit my lip. I couldn't bring myself to say since Keiko died.

"It's okay, Mr. Burrows. I know what happened to Ms. Nidara and know how you must feel. I lost my husband two years ago." She took me in her arms and pulled me to her ample bosom and gave me a reassuring hug. "If you're like me, you'll muddle through the hurt somehow. The sharp edges eventually dull to a bearable pain."

I pulled back and wiped away a tear. "Keiko always kept the apartment immaculate, but I wanted to check it before you arrived."

"I'll come back at one-thirty," she said.

"No, let's go in." I unlocked the door and pushed it open. "I'm not sure I can face all of the memories alone."

I motioned for Georgia to enter. "If you don't mind, I'll look around so you can have a few moments to yourself," she said.

I nodded and entered after her. Out of habit I removed my shoes and set them on the tatami mat. I looked around the living room. Everything was the same as the last night Keiko and I spent together in it. The red ikat futon that served as a couch, the framed van Gogh and Cézanne prints hanging on the walls, the black-lacquered Japanese table in front of the futon, the antique tansu chest pushed against the wall opposite the futon, and the antique French-writing desk. Even Keiko's funky-looking gray notebook computer remained where I'd last seen it on her antique French-writing desk. I'd take it home with me so that Dr. Avril and the French won't be able to their hands on it.

Georgia came bustling out of the bedroom. "Oh, this is gorgeous. The view of the Bay Bridge from the balcony is lovely. I can imagine how romantic it would be sitting in the hot tub with that view. I've got several dot-com clients who cashed out their options. They've been searching for an apartment like this for ages. They'll happily get in a bidding war for this jewel and pay an out-of-this-world price."

I'd heard stories of how Silicon Valley types became engaged in a bidding war and would pay several times the asking price for an apartment, and in this case it truly was an out-of-this-world place. "That's great," I said. "Go ahead and list it. Do you think you can sell it furnished? I have no idea what to do with the furniture."

"I doubt it. These youngsters like to hire an interior designer to create some gawd-awful stainless steel mess. But I know a good estate agent who can help you auction off anything you don't want to keep."

Georgia impressed me. She seemed to know the San Francisco market and could help me find people who could help me. She could help carry some of the burden of dealing with Keiko's affairs.

"Do you know anyone who could help me sell Keiko's wine store?" I asked.

She puffed her lips for a moment. "I know a couple reliable commercial real estate people who might be able to help. Let me talk to them and see what they think."

This was going better than I'd hoped. On impulse, I decided to ask one more favor. "I'm looking for office space. I'd like a small suite for a one person law firm in the financial district. Any ideas?"

"Office space is always in tight supply in the financial district. But let me see what I can find. If some firm is downsizing, you might get a favorable sublease."

"Thanks," I said. My neck felt a little less tense. I'd taken the first step towards opening my own law firm. I couldn't wait to tell Keiko tonight.

*

I told Keiko about meeting Georgia Pfals and that I'd also asked Georgia to look for office space. "That's good news," Keiko said.

"It's a start. I do have one question, though," I said. "I brought your computer home. Is there anything on it that I need to worry about?"

Keiko wrinkled her nose. "What?"

"I told Dr. Avril about it. He seemed intrigued. He may have thought it was from your landing shuttle."

Keiko's eyebrows drew down. "And you think he'd try to get his hands on it?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "He might."

"Well, if he did," she said with a mischievous smile, "he'd be in for a surprise. Before I left San Francisco, I downloaded everything important to my pendant and encrypted all of Vision's programs. The only things it's good for now are word processing and e-mail. He'll never find anything to help him."

I laughed. "Well, if that's all it's good for, it's perfect for me."

Keiko bit her lip. "Do you think the French are actually following you?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. But I'm not worried. I've got nothing to hide."

"Well, be careful. I don't like the idea that someone's following you. Especially someone who knows the truth and thinks he could gain some information by stealing my computer."

I nodded in agreement. "At this point, there's nothing I can do about it. I guess it's the price I have to pay to keep Avril from locking me up for the rest of my life.

"Enough about Avril. I want to talk about starting my new office."

-4-

We talked for so long that I didn't remember falling asleep. When I woke the next morning, I started a list of things I needed for an my office. I knew what to write as the first thing on my list. I couldn't imagine an office without the desk and chairs that Quincy gave me. I was so upset when I signed the documents resigning from Lott & Pembroke, I didn't think to tell anyone where to send my personal belongings, including my desk and chairs. I hoped they hadn't thrown anything out. The only one way to find out for sure was to stop by the L&P offices to see what had happened to my things.

That afternoon for the first time since I'd been a law student I walked into the Lott & Pembroke offices as something other than a member of the firm. I had expected to feel an emotion of something lost, but after everything that had occurred during the last month, all I could summon up was surprise. Surprise that no clients were present in the normally bustling reception area. Surprise at the wilting bouquet of flowers on the reception desk. It had long been a tradition at L&P that the reception bouquet was replaced daily. This bouquet looked at least a week old.

A young lady I didn't recognize sat behind the mahogany reception desk filing her finger nails. I wondered if Joy, who'd been the receptionist for over a decade, was on vacation.

"Hi, I'm Hobie Burrows. I'm here to pick up my things."

The receptionist gave me a blank stare. "I'm sorry. I don't have anything out here for pick-up by a Mr. Burrows."

I guess she must have been hired in the last couple of weeks. "You must be new. I was a partner in the firm until a few weeks ago. I'm here to pick up the personal things I left behind."

She still had that blank look on her face. "No one told me anything about that."

I started to get irritated until I realized she had no reason to expect me. I hadn't bothered to call ahead to tell anyone I wanted to retrieve my belongings. "Why don't you call Robert Beresford? He'll be able to help me."

"I can't do that. He's in a meeting."

She might be new on the job, but she'd learned the lesson never to call a partner if someone unexpected showed up demanding to talk to them.

"I understand. Why don't you call his secretary Joan. She'll know me and will let Robert know I'm here."

She looked down at a list, then shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't see any secretary named Joan."

"What do you mean? Joan's worked for Robert ever since he became a partner. Just call her."

She rolled her eyes. "There've been some changes in secretarial staffing. There's no Joan on my list."

I let out a long breath and tried to decide what to do next. "How can I make an appointment to see Mr. Beresford?"

"You'll have to contact the firm's appointment clerk." She pointed to a phone on an end table in the reception lounge. "Just dial extension 555."

"Thanks."

As I headed for the phone I wondered what this appointment clerk business was. Clients had always been able to call a lawyer's secretary directly for an appointment. This smelled of Jack Fong's penny-pinching.

I sat in the leather chair next to the end table, surprised how dull the leather looked. Brad had insisted that the leather chairs be oiled to a sheen at least weekly. I dialed the number. "Lott & Pembroke appointments," a familiar voice answered.

"Joan, this is Hobie. The new receptionist just told me there was no secretary named Joan. What the heck is going on?"

"Things are so crazy here ever since, well, you know. I'm not a secretary anymore." Even I could hear the anger in her voice. "I either had to take this menial position at half my old salary or be out of a job. I'm too close to retirement to find a new job, so I swallowed my pride and stayed."

Joan had been an outstanding secretary. I wondered what she'd done to so upset Robert. "Why?" I asked.

There was a pause. "And who would you like to make an appointment to see?" she asked.

"Robert," I said.

"Sorry," she said. "My supervisor just walked by and I'm not supposed to take personal calls."

"Hobie, what a surprise," another familiar voice said behind me.

I hadn't heard Robert enter the reception lounge. "Bye, Joan. Robert's here. Thanks for your help," I said.

I stood and extended my hand to Robert. "Hi, Robert. I didn't think I was going to be able to see you."

He grabbed my hand and gripped so hard his class ring scratched my palm. I don't know if he was glad to see me or nervous about why I was in the office because "I came out the minute I heard you were here."

Robert had always been tall and thin, but he seemed to have aged years since in the last month. His face seemed craggier and his Adam's apple protruded more than ever. I imagine he'd been under a lot of strain from trying to deal with clients following Brad's death. I couldn't bring myself to feel any sympathy for Robert's plight, so I didn't say anything. He'd made his choice when he joined forces with Brad to force me out.

He released my hand. "We shouldn't talk out here. Come back to my office."

I followed him through the halls. My surprise continued because all of the secretarial desks outside partner offices were empty and none of the computers on their stalls were turned on.

We entered Robert's office and I sat in one of the client chairs facing his desk. Even though smoking was banned in the building, the stench of cigarette smoke filled the air and an ashtray on the desk overflowed with unfiltered cigarette butts. Robert had stopped smoking ten years ago after his father died of lung cancer. Stress must really be eating him.

He plopped in his black leather desk chair. "I can't tell you how tough the last few weeks have been," he said. "Trying to deal with Brad's death has drained me. By now the world knows what happened in France. It makes the whole firm look bad."

I didn't say a word. He wasn't going to get any sympathy from me. As far as I was concerned, the whole firm deserved to look bad.

"When I heard, I couldn't believe it. Do you know why?"

I shook my head. My mind raced on what to say. Sometimes it's better to respond with a question. "I thought you might know."

Robert swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. He looked down at his desk and picked up a pack of cigarettes. He tapped the package against his desk. "I've got some ideas, but nothing I can talk publicly about yet."

"Good, because I didn't come here to talk about that," I said. "I wanted to see about arranging for pickup of my desk and chairs."

His head jerked up as if startled. "Those are firm property. You can't take them."

How could he be so petty? I clenched my fists. "Surely you remember that Quincy's will left me all of his personal property at the office, which would have included that desk and those chairs."

Robert swallowed and I was tempted to reach across the desk and grab his Adam's apple to keep it from its annoying bob. "How do you know Quincy didn't use firm money to buy them? Over the years we've all been given an allowance to furnish our offices. And no one's ever claimed their purchases as personal property. Those purchases have always been regarded as firm property, not personal property."

I'd had enough. "You asshole. You know damn good and well that Quincy told everyone he bought that desk when he was solo. He didn't start the firm until years later. Are you going to sit there and deny that?"

Robert pulled a cigarette out of the pack. "Most of the members of the firm weren't even here when Quincy died. I'd have a revolt on my hands if I just gave away that desk and chair to you."

"That's your problem, not mine. Do you want me to have to sue the firm to get my desk and chairs?" After the news reports about France, I figured Robert wouldn't want the additional bad publicity of me suing to regain my personal property.

Robert rocked back and forth in his chair, which was always a sign he was trying to think of a response when someone had him stumped. "I don't want that, Hobie. Let's compromise. I'll sell them to you at a fair price. That way no one will say I gave away firm property and you can have your precious desk and chairs."

"Why should I pay for what's mine?

"Because it's only your word if I can't remember Quincy ever telling anyone when he bought them."

I counted to ten to keep from exploding. "You really are an asshole, Robert. How much?"

Robert lit his cigarette, inhaled deeply, and let out a long puff of smoke. "Two thousand dollars."

The smoke irritated my eyes. I started to counter. Two thousand dollars was an outrageous amount to pay for what was already mine, but I didn't want to bicker like a Turkish rug merchant. I wanted to get out of this smoke infested rat hole as soon as possible. "Fine, as long as it includes delivery."

"Okay. I guess delivery to Mill Valley can't be too expensive," Robert said in a reluctant drawl.

"Not Mill Valley," I said. "I'm looking for office space in the city. I'll have them delivered there."

The crags in Robert's forehead deepened. "Office space?"

"Yeah. I decided to go solo and open an office as soon as I can find space."

Robert ground his cigarette in the ashtray. "You can't do that. Remember, you signed an agreement retiring from the firm. You'll receive your pension payments only if you abide by the non-compete clause."

I didn't know how to respond. I'd been so upset when I left the firm that I never read the agreement before I signed it. I hadn't even bothered to take a copy with me. It never occurred to me that they'd insert a non-compete clause after getting rid of me because I didn't have any important clients. I'd go crazy if on top of everything else, I couldn't practice law. Perhaps, there was any easy solution. "That's no problem. I haven't been paid a cent of the money the firm owes me."

Robert's Adam's apple bobbed. "Uh, we're having some minor cash flow problems, but you'll be paid soon. You have my word."

So that's what was going on with all the changes: cash flow problems. The partners probably didn't have enough cash to take their full monthly allowances. That would cause a rebellion among the young partners who lived month to month on their allowances. If some had already left to join other firms and taken their clients with them, that would only create more cash flow problems.

"I won't make things more difficult for you," I said. "Keep the money. I don't need it, but it sounds like the firm does. We each benefit that way. My payments don't drain the firm's cash flow and I have an office to go to everyday."

Robert hunched forward and pointed a bony finger at me. "You'll get your money soon, and we will enforce the retirement non-compete."

I couldn't believe his belligerence. "Why would you want to do that? You forced me out of the firm because you and your good buddy Brad didn't think I had any significant clients. Why would you care now if I agree to give up my severance pay? I'm no threat to L&P."

Robert got up and opened the door to his office. "I think you'd better leave."

Robert's attitude was irrational. If the firm was having cash flow problems, why would it want to pay an unreduced pension so that it could enforce a non-compete with someone whom they thought had no clients? I stood and headed towards the door. As I walked by Robert, he grabbed my shoulder. "I'm not joking, Hobie. Don't expect any sympathy because of what happened in France. We'll see you in court if necessary."

I pushed his hand off my shoulder. "If that's the way you want it."

All the way back to Mill Valley I wondered what was eating at Robert. Did he honestly view me as a threat to Lott & Pembroke? How could the most prestigious firm in San Francisco be worried about an ex-partner with no significant clients? I guess the stress of Brad's demise had affected Robert, and probably the firm's reputation, more than I imagined. Robert evidently couldn't handle the pressure of as the firm's senior partner and was cracking up.

*

When I told Keiko that night, she didn't seem too surprised. "Robert may be a faithful second in command who will complete any task he's given, but he's never had the savvy to be a leader. With Brad gone, he'll have to make decisions on his own, and your experience today shows that his decisions only serve to make matters worse for the firm. At this point it sounds as if he's unstable enough to file suit if you open an office. He may think enforcing your agreement is a way to show the business community that despite what Brad did, the firm has maintained its sense of propriety. It made an agreement that it will abide by and you should too."

Keiko usually saw things clearer than I did; but not this time. "I don't think Robert would sue me. I'll have to do some research, but if I remember correctly, it's tough to enforce a non-compete affecting a lawyer who leaves a firm. Under legal ethics, a client should always be able to choose his or her lawyer. Courts are loathe to force a client to be represented by an attorney not of the client's choosing. My guess is Robert knows that too and is just talking tough so he can tell the partners how he threatened me. He thinks that's how he can show the other partners the value of his leadership."

Keiko rolled her eyes and shook her head.

-5-

The phone rang and pulled me out of my thoughts. I grabbed the receiver. "Hello."

"Mr. Burrows, this is Georgia Pfals."

"Please, call me Hobie." My stomach growled to remind me I hadn't eaten since last night.

"Sorry for calling so early, but I've found a couple of office suites going on the market today. With the tight market in the financial district, they'll probably be gone before the day's over. If you want to look at 'em, we better hop to it this morning."

Georgia was certainly a go-getter. I admired that. "Good work. When and where should I meet you?"

"How soon can you get to Montgomery Street?"

"Give me an hour. I'll meet you in the lobby of the Exchange Club." My stomach growled. "We can have a bite to eat and then look at the offices."

*

I don't know which chilled me more: the fog swirling off the Bay or the sight of the drab green entry awning with its faded gold letters - MONTGOMERY STREET EXCHANGE CLUB. I stopped in my tracks. The Club contained too many memories of Keiko. I should have thought of some other place to meet Georgia. A gust of wind rammed me in the back and thrust me forward. I wondered if it was a shove from Keiko telling me to get on with my life.

I opened the door to the Club and hesitantly stepped onto the dun-brown carpet of the entry parlor. The Club's long-time assistant manager, Ramon, sat at the desk in the reception parlor wearing his rumpled green jacket. He stood the minute he saw me and scampered to greet me.

"Mr. Burrows, I'm so sorry. She was such a nice lady. Is there anything I can do?" He blinked back a tear.

Moments like this were the reason I'd wanted to remain a hermit. Keiko had always gone out of her way to talk to Ramon and treat him as more than a glorified doorman. He appreciated that and always treated her as someone special. I had no idea how to deal with his concern. "Thanks, Ramon. Just knowing that you care is enough."

His lips quivered. "I'll never forget her."

I had to change the subject or both Ramon and I might break down. "I'm supposed to meet a real estate agent, Georgia Pfals."

He nodded. "Oh, I know Ms. Pfals. She meets a lot of her clients her. They say she's the best agent in the city."

I looked around the parlor, but didn't see her. "Is she in the lobby waiting?"

"No. But she's always punctual."

I looked at my watch. I was ten minutes early. "Would you send her up to the breakfast bar when she arrives."

"No need for that, Mr. Burrows. She's walking down the sidewalk now."

I turned to look out the entryway. Georgia waved when she saw me and bustled inside. She extended her white-gloved hand. "Good to see you, Hobie. Glad you're a few minutes early. I've got the listings in my briefcase. I find it always helps to review the lease terms and rates before viewing the property. Gives you a better idea of what you want to be sure to look at and what questions to ask."

"Let's find a seat in the lounge and see what you have to show me." I extended my arm.

A smattering of people, none of whom I knew, sat in the lounge drinking coffee. I pointed at two leather club chairs in the far corner next to the redwood grandfather clock. "How about over there where we'll have some privacy."

We sat down and she laid her Gucci briefcase on her lap. "The first listing is just a couple of blocks away." She unlatched the briefcase's snaps and pulled out a manila folder labeled "Burrows Law Office."

I heard footsteps approach but didn't look up. I figured a waiter was coming to ask if we wanted coffee.

"Hello, Georgia. Hello, Hobie."

"Why hello, Jack," Georgia said. "It's nice to see you. Last time I saw you was at the Black and White Ball."

I grimaced and looked up at the chubby face of Jack Fong. Brad, Robert, and Jack had been the members of the L&P management committee that had forced me out. Even though I'd billed more hours than any of them, Jack said I didn't pull my weight financially and that it didn't make sense for the firm to pay my draw. If Georgia hadn't been present, I might have told Jack exactly what I thought of him and where he could go.

"Hello, Jack," I said out of politeness.

Jack didn't bother to look at me. He was staring at the manila folder. "Robert told me you stopped by the office yesterday. You'd better think about what he said." He spun around and walked away.

That was so typical of Jack. He couldn't even look at me while he threatened me and he left before I could respond.

"What was that all about?" Georgia asked.

"Nothing really. Seems the firm doesn't want me to reclaim my old desk and client chairs unless I pay for them." I didn't think Georgia needed to know about the non-compete clause. If it became a problem, I'd have to deal with it at the appropriate time.

"I'm not surprised," she said. "The word on the street is that on top of all the bad publicity about Mr. Hale, the escalator clause in L&P's office lease kicked in at the first of the month. Their rent has more than doubled and most of Mr. Hale's clients have already taken their business to other firms. The remaining partners are really scrambling to retain clients, and not too successfully from what I hear."

"I'd forgotten about that escalator clause," I said. "I told Brad it was stupid to agree to an escalator in exchange for a lower initial rent. If the rental payments did double, that will definitely eat into profits. And I'm not surprised Brad's clients show no more loyalty than he did." No wonder there'd been some changes in secretarial staffing.

She leaned closer to me. "Plus, I heard a rumor about cash flow problems. Seems on top of everything else, someone made some hefty unauthorized withdrawals."

If Georgia's rumors were true, Robert's attitude made even less sense. "That's too bad, but it's not my firm any longer," I said a little more angrily than I should have.

She leaned back. "I understand. I promise not to mention them again."

"Let's see those papers before we eat," I said.

*

The first office space was located in a row of old brick buildings only a couple of blocks from the Club. I'd always liked this area with its mixture of professional offices, antique shops, bookstores, and restaurants. The only drawback was that Keiko's wine shop was just around the corner. I didn't know how I'd handle walking by the shop on my way to and from the office.

Georgia unlocked the door. The lease papers had said the space was unfinished, but that hadn't adequately prepared me. I walked into a five hundred square foot space with a concrete floor veined with cracks, brick walls gouged with nail holes, and exposed steel ceiling beams. A layer of construction dust covered the floor.

"It needs a bit more work than I'd anticipated," I said.

She pointed to the ceiling beams. "As you can see, the building was recently retrofitted for earthquake protection," she said cheerily. "You'd be the first tenant and would have a free hand at designing your space to your exact needs. With a little work, those brick walls would make a lovely office. And if you stain those concrete floors, they'd be perfect."

A real estate agent has to be optimistic but this wasn't what I had in mind. "I think I'd like something a bit more traditional. Something I don't have to spend a lot of money fixing up."

She put her papers back in her Gucci case. "I thought you might, so that's why we visited this space first. I just wanted you to know all your options."

The next space was on the fifth floor of an office tower on California Street. The moment I opened the door and saw the plush orange and purple checked-carpet and a maze black partitioned cubicles, I knew I'd have a headache every moment I spent in it.

"Who could possibly keep sane looking at this carpet all day?" I asked.

Georgia burst out in laughter. "A software company started by a bunch of twenty year olds that designed games." She tried to stop laughing but broke out with the giggles again.

"I'm sorry," she said in between her giggles. "I hadn't seen this space before. I guess the listing was correct when it said uniquely finished."

I closed the door. "I think we can cross this one off the list. Keep on searching. I'm sure something will turn up," I said half-heartedly.

She patted me on the shoulder. "Don't get discouraged. The market's tight, so be patient. I'll keep on searching. Something will eventually turn up."

"Thanks. Call me when you've found something."

*

That night when I described the second office space to Keiko, she laughed almost as hard as Georgia had. "I bet some other young software developer sees that space tomorrow and is so impressed she takes it immediately. Probably will offer a premium to make sure no one bids higher."

"You're probably right. Heaven knows, I'd pay almost any price to have my old office space transported out of L&P so I could rent it."

Keiko's lips drew down. "You're starting anew, remember. Do you really want an office that looks just like your L&P office? Wouldn't that serve as a constant reminder of the past?"

I thought for a moment. Was I trying to re-create the past by wanting my old desk and chairs and searching for office space that would look like L&P's? "I don't know. It might make the transition easier if I felt like I'd been in the office for a long time. Based upon what I saw today, though, I don't need to worry. I'll never find anything remotely similar to my old office."

-6-

The phone rang. I opened my eyes to blackness and turned my head to the alarm clock. The phone rang again and I wondered who would call at five-thirty in the morning.

"Hello." I hoped my tone sounded upset.

"I see you woke up in a pleasant mood, Hobart," a deep feminine voice said.

I was wide awake. "Mrs. Granden." I hopped out of bed and didn't even notice the cold floor. One didn't lounge in bed while talking to Eloise Granden. Eloise had been a client of Quincy's and she insisted that I continue to do her work after his death. Her great-grandfather had been a wealthy Hawaii banker who owned the largest bank in Hawaii and a large chunk of land on Oahu. He established a trust for heirs that entitled Eloise to a large share of the trust's annual income. The trust sprayed out so much income each year that not even the capital costs of the new winery building and caves she was building in Napa Valley required her to borrow any money to finance the construction.

"I know it's early, but I couldn't wait any longer to give you a piece of my mind. I called Lott & Pembroke yesterday afternoon. They told me you'd retired and didn't work there anymore. They're telling me I have to see some snot-nosed kid just out of law school. How in tarnation could you leave without bothering to tell me? You've been my lawyer for three decades and you desert me without as much as a goodbye. I expected better from you, Hobart."

Eloise never beat around the bush, and I'd always been as direct with her. "It all happened very suddenly three weeks ago. The firm's managing committee told me that I didn't have any significant clients and wasn't pulling my weight financially. They forced me to take early retirement. I was too ashamed to tell anyone, especially you, that I'd been forced out. So, I went to France to get away. Then," I paused and looked out the window. An oak leaf fluttered to the ground. How could I say it? "Then, Keiko died in a plane crash. I've just in the past few days tried to . . ."

"Oh, Hobie, I'm so sorry. I hadn't heard. I've been out of the country for a month and only returned yesterday. That little pixie was one of the sweetest people I ever met. Is there anything I can do? Do you need any help?"

I glanced at Keiko's picture on the dresser. "No. I'm learning to adjust. I know she wants me to get on with my life, and that's what I'm trying to do."

"That's the attitude, Hobie. Best thing you can do is to keep yourself busy. Don't retreat into a shell. And don't retire. L&P doesn't know what it's doing. You're too good a lawyer to waste all that skill. Quincy wouldn't have put his faith in a quitter."

That felt good to hear. "Well, I'm not really retiring. I'm planning on establishing my own office."

"Well, let me be your first client. If those s-o-b's at L&P don't think my fees are significant, then let them get along without them."

I could picture Eloise straightening her back and raising her nose at the thought of L&P regarding her as insignificant. No one crossed Eloise when she had her dander up.

"Hobie, can we meet today? I've got a problem that needs immediate attention. I'd like to discuss it with you in person."

"I'm sorry, Eloise. I don't have any office space."

"Don't be silly and let that stop us. You can drive up here to Calistoga today and we'll get started. I don't want my work to remain at that firm one day longer than necessary."

I knew she meant it. "Sounds good to me. How's one o'clock."

"Fine. See you then."

I plopped back in bed. It was early and I could use a few more hours of sleep before meeting Eloise. I wanted to be alert when I met with my first client.

-7-

The drive through Napa Valley on Highway 29 couldn't have been more spectacular. Harvest had been completed and the leaves on the vines had turned scarlet and golden. When I reached Oakville, the fog melted and the sun shone overhead. I rolled down my window to enjoy the fresh air. It may have been my imagination, but the valley smelled like the interior of a winery redolent with the scent of juice aging in a large oak cask.

Eloise owned almost two hundred acres north of Calistoga. One hundred acres on the valley floor were planted in vines and a few years ago she'd planted 25 hillside acres with olive trees. Once outside Calistoga's city limits, I spotted her bright yellow Tuscan-style house on a foothill below Mount St. Helena's round peak.

Olive trees laden with ripening green fruit lined the driveway to Eloise's house. I parked under the swooping branches of ancient coastal oak next to her garage. She stood waiting for me on the front porch. Her physique didn't match her deep voice. Instead of a big woman like Georgia Pfals, Eloise was petite and gray haired. The winery had been her husband's idea. Unfortunately, he had died in his fifties, and not one to shrink from a challenge, Eloise had taken charge of the winery ever since. She'd succeeded beyond anyone's expectations. Year after year, Granden cabernet sauvignon ranked at the forefront of Napa wine.

I crossed the flagstone pathway to the porch. "Welcome, Hobie," she said. She hugged me tight. "I've read about what happened. I disliked Brad Hale from the moment I laid eyes on him, but I never suspected he was so depraved."

I stared down the valley. I needed to change the subject. "The olive trees look great. They were just a year-old last time I was here. Now they're bearing a full harvest."

She released me from her hug. "I understand. We can talk about it when your ready."

She pointed a sitting area on the patio with to two wicker lounge chairs and a table. "Have a seat and I'll tell you why I asked you to come here."

"First," she said. "I want to place you on retainer. I want you available to help whenever I need you. After all of these years, I don't want to have to teach a new lawyer all of my idiosyncrasies."

The thought of a retainer was tempting. Big law firms love retainers because under a retainer they were paid even if no services were performed. "I'm flattered. But I'll always be available to help you. No need for a retainer. We didn't have a retainer when I was at L&P and I don't think it's necessary now." I winked at her. "I know you'll always pay me. After all, I know how much money the trust distributes to you each year."

She laid her hand on my arm. "I can't tell you how much you sound like Quincy Lott. He would have reacted exactly the same. He'd be proud of you."

"Thanks," I replied. "But I assume you wanted to talk to me about more than a retainer."

"You're damn right. My Uncle Micah has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and isn't expected to live more than a few months. You know what that means."

I nodded. Her great-grandfather's trust document had been drafted in 1914 by a lawyer in Hawaii. To say the lawyer's drafting style was unique would be polite. The ten-page document had no punctuation, including no periods to end sentences. The document's poor draftsmanship had led to numerous interpretational differences between the beneficiaries.

Most importantly, most of the trust's beneficiaries had always assumed that the trust was intended to comply with the rule against perpetuities, which meant in this case that the trust would terminate 21 years after the last death of a grandchild alive at Eloise's great-grandfather's death. However, one of Eloise's cousins didn't want to wait the extra 21 years and brought suit alleging that because the trust document did not include explicit language stating the trust would end 21 years after the last grandchild's death, the trust should end at such death. The Hawaii Supreme Court agreed and held that the trust would terminate at the end of the death of last grandchild alive at her grandfather's death. Eloise's Uncle Micah Mason was the last of those three grandchildren.

"The trust will terminate and the trust corpus trust corpus distributed." I didn't say that Eloise's share of the corpus would be close to $100,000,000.

"And that's why I need your help."

I wrinkled my forehead. "Why do you need my help? I'm a lawyer not an investment adviser."

She let out a long sigh and grabbed some papers off the table. "My dear cousin Samuel Mason has filed another case in the Hawaii courts, this time asking for instructions on how the corpus should be distributed on termination. It uses all kinds of legal mumble jumble that I don't understand. But knowing Samuel, I'm sure he asking for something that benefits him and hurts me. I need you to review and tell me what I should do."

She handed the papers to me and I began reading. The more I read, the more my jaw dropped at the audacity. If Samuel won, the implications to Eloise were enormous. When I finished, I looked at Eloise. "This is so bad, I don't know where to start."

"I figured as much," she replied. "Give me the bad news."

"It's rather complex, and my take some time to explain," I said.

"Take as much time as you need. I'm not going anywhere."

I took a deep breath. "We've always assumed that at termination the trust's corpus would be distributed the same as the trust's income has always distributed, _per stirpes_ with the stirps beginning at your grandfather's generational level." By the look in her eyes, I knew I'd already lost her. "Let me start over."

"Your great-grandfather was survived by two sons, your grandfather George and his brother Abner. The will provided that the income was to be distributed on _per stirpes_ basis _._ Accordingly, 50% of the income was distributed to George and 50% to Abner." George had two children, your mother and your uncle. Abner on the other hand five children.

"When your grandfather died, his 50% of the income was then divided equally between your mother and your uncle. In other words each received 25% of the trust's income. When Abner died, his 50% was divided equally among his five children so that each received 10% of the trust's income. Thus, your mother and uncle each received 25% of the trust's income while their five cousins of the same generation only received 10% each."

I paused to see if Eloise was following me. She nodded, so I continued. "When your mother died, you and your sister split her 25% of the trust's income equally, so that you each receive 12.5% of the income while you uncle Micah continues to receive 25%. On the other hand, when each of your mother's and Micah's five cousins died, the 10% the cousin received was divided equally among that cousin's children. Thus, because your cousin Samuel is one of five children he receives only 2% of the income. As a result, even though you and Samuel are of the same generation, you receive 12.5% of the income while he receives only 2%."

Eloise laughed. "That's always been a sore point with him and his siblings. He hasn't talked to me since I told him it wasn't my fault that his side of the family bred like rabbits."

"Well, he's trying to get the last laugh. He's asked the court to rule that upon distribution of trust's corpus, the stirps should be determined at the great-grandchildren's generation. Accordingly, the twenty great-grandchildren should each receive 5% of the corpus."

Eloise's face reddened. "How in tarnation does he justify that?"

"As you know, your great-grandfather's trust document was, shall we say, a one of a kind document with its lack of punctuation. In part, Samuel makes a big point out of the two capitalized words and slightly different language as creating a whole new distribution method for corpus distribution as opposed to the income distribution. He also throws in an assertion that your great-grandfather could not have intended to have such a disparity in the amounts received by the great-grandchildren as you all have the same grandmother."

Eloise rolled her eyes. "I've got tired of hearing that canard too. How Samuel's grandfather magnanimously married my grandmother after my grandfather died. How Mom and Uncle Micah were raised as one family with his father and the others. Such bullcrap. As far as I'm concerned. Samuel can go to hell, and I need the best lawyer possible to represent me and discredit his cockamamie ideas." She pointed her finger at me. "Now, go get to work."

We talked a few more minutes before Eloise walked me to my car and we said goodbye and I drove down the hillside. When I stopped at the end of the driveway, a white Lexus was parked on the other side of the lane. I turned onto the lane and drove the mile to the highway. I stopped and looked in my rearview mirror. The Lexus was behind me. I decided to keep an eye open on the drive home to see if the Lexus was indeed following me. Dr. Avril had said the French would know where I was all the time. This was my first trip outside San Francisco and Mill Valley. They probably thought I was sneaking off to contact the CIA and reveal the fissure's cycles. They'd be shocked to know that instead I'd been hired to work on a real life version of the move _The Descendants._

*

"Even though the Lexus tried to keep some distance from me, it followed me to Mill Valley," I told Keiko when she appeared that night. "I guess I'm going to have to get used to being followed. Hopefully, after a while Avril will realize I'm not going to tell anyone what happened in France and he'll decide he doesn't need to tail me."

Keiko wrinkled her nose. "It's unlike the French to be so obvious."

Keiko had lived in France before she moved to San Francisco, so I always trusted her judgment. "Then why this time?" I asked.

"All I can think of is they wanted you to know they were following you. Perhaps, they don't plan on following you all the time and want you to think they're following you even when they're not."

"They can play their little games all they want. I'm not going to let worrying about them affect me."

"Good." Keiko smiled.

When I saw that smile I wanted to pull her in my arms and kiss those soft lips. I had to do something to take my mind off my desire or I'd fall apart in front of her again.

-8-

The next morning, I traipsed to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. Georgia had left a message yesterday that she'd found a couple places to view. While I waited for the coffee to brew, I dialed her office. I hoped that she'd located some space more to my liking: A well-maintained suite with white walls, muted carpeting, and a window overlooking San Francisco Bay.

Her telephone rang three times and then her answering machine picked up. "You have reached the office of Georgia Pfals. Today is Thursday and I will be unavailable all day. Please leave a message and I will return your call as soon as possible."

That seemed strange. Her message had said she'd be free all day. "Georgia, this is Hobie Burrows. I can view the offices any time today. If today's not good, let's arrange another time. Hope to hear from you soon. Bye."

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen. I poured myself a cup and enjoyed the gorgeous morning sun rising over the East Bay hills. By the time I finished my second cup, Georgia still hadn't called. Instead of waiting any longer for her call, I decided to begin my law practice's first project. I'd start researching issues relating to Eloise's case.

I poured another cup of coffee and headed to my study and logged on to Westlaw. After reading several cases and commentaries on will interpretation and various meanings of _per stirpes_ , I remembered how much I enjoyed researching legal issues. I was having so much fun that I didn't realize how much time had passed until the doorbell ring. I glanced at my watch; it was almost five p.m.

I thought it might be Georgia. Perhaps, she had some business in Marin County and stopped by on her way back to the city. I looked through the peep hole. A man in a dark business suit was holding a blue package bound with a white ribbon. I hadn't ordered anything and wondered who'd be sending me a package. I opened the door thinking that he probably had the wrong address.

"Are you Mr. Hobart L. Burrows, three?" he said.

His spice-scented cologne almost knocked me over. "Yes."

He reached into a pocket, pulled out an envelope, and stuck it in my hand. "Consider yourself served."

"What? Why are you serving me?"

"Because I was paid to." He turned and walked away.

I tore open the envelope. I couldn't believe what I read. Lott & Pembroke was suing me for violating a non-compete agreement. Worse, a hearing to decide whether to issue temporary restraining order was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.

The more I read, the more my blood pressure rose. The complaint was based on two allegations. First, that I'd retained a real estate agent, Georgia Pfals, to locate office space. No wonder Jack had stared at Georgia's files. She'd probably been served with a subpoena to appear at the hearing and had spent today consulting her lawyer. That's why she hadn't called, and I understood. I hadn't told her about the non-compete, and as a result, she'd been subpoenaed as a witness. She probably regarded me as a jerk, which was exactly how I'd acted.

I'm surprised my veins didn't burst when I read the second allegation. According to it, I initiated contact with a long-time L&P client, Eloise Granden, in an effort to solicit her legal business away from Lott & Pembroke, including litigation regarding her interest in the Mills Estate. Even I could connect the dots. The French hadn't followed me to Eloise's. Lott & Pembroke had someone tail me. I couldn't believe that L&P had sunk so low. I scanned the street for a white Lexus.

A cold gust of wind made me realize I was standing with the door wide open. I slammed it shut. How could L&P force me out for not having any significant clients and then turn around and sue me for stealing business? How could they be so desperate that they'd follow me around to see who I talked to? Quincy always said desperate men do desperate things, but this was beyond the pale.

I expected that a check for my severance pay would be included. I peered inside the envelope. It was empty. Perhaps, it had fallen out. I looked on the floor and under the end table. I didn't see anything.

I was incredulous. I plopped in a chair. L&P wanted me to abide by the agreement even though they hadn't paid me a cent. A copy of my agreement was attached to the complaint. I supposed it would be a good time to read it. I scanned it and found the pertinent sections. The firm would pay me a lump sum retirement bonus of one year's draw. The bonus was due ten days after the date I signed the agreement. The agreement also provided that as a retiree I would receive an unreduced partner's pension. Monthly pension payments were to be made on the first day of each month. I hadn't received either the bonus or the pension payments. Surely, a judge wouldn't grant a temporary restraining order if I hadn't been paid.

If I remembered my case law correctly, I had another argument. Courts are reluctant to enforce non-compete agreements, especially against lawyers. To do so would impinges on a client's choice of counsel; something legal ethics cherish.

The hearing wasn't until tomorrow afternoon. The Hastings College of Law was near the courthouse. I'd use its library tomorrow morning. It shouldn't be difficult to find some cases to cite to the judge that would buttress my case.

*

That night when I told Keiko that L&P was suing me, she shook her head in disgust. "I never did respect Robert Beresford's judgment. But I didn't think penny-pinching Jack Fong would go along. I thought he'd jump at the opportunity to drop the non-compete if L&P could avoid paying you. As Jack is so fond of saying, it would be a win-win solution. Plus, a lawsuit invites more publicity concerning Hale and Morgado. Why would they take the chance?"

I thought for a moment. "Perhaps, Robert's not such an idiot. He may be afraid I'd sue L&P. So, L&P sues me first. That way they forestall my use of Brad's supposed kidnapping to gain sympathy. If they succeed, fine. If not, they at least obtain a court order that releases their payment obligation."

Keiko shook her head. "If it was that simple, why didn't Robert take you up on your offer to release them from payment when you talked to him?"

"Maybe he's had second thoughts," I replied.

"Why do I doubt it?" she asked rhetorically.

I shared her doubts. Was I missing something obvious

-9-

I'm not sure why, but at that moment I bolted up in bed wide awake. Had I overlooked the obvious?

I looked at my clock. It was two in the morning. The Hastings law library wouldn't open until eight. But I didn't need to go to a library to learn if I had overlooked the obvious.

I turned on the lights and bustled to my study. I yanked a pamphlet off a shelf and flipped through the pages. To my dread, I confirmed my apprehension. Both the California Rules of Professional Conduct and the American Bar Association rules prohibit non-compete agreements. Unfortunately, each contains a significant exemption. A non-compete agreement is valid if it requires payments upon retirement from the active practice of law.

The non-compete I signed did just that. L&P had a solid basis for enforcement. My only hope was to argue failure of consideration. L&P hadn't kept its part of the agreement. It hadn't paid me a cent. Such a failure generally voids an agreement.

Of course, L&P could easily counter by arguing that the payments were only slightly past due. It could ask for additional time to cure the default. The court probably would grant the additional time. In the interim, I'd be subject to a temporary restraining order.

I plodded back to the bedroom, turned off the lights, and brooded. How could I be so stupid? I always told clients, not to sign anything without reading it and understanding the implications. It sure would've been nice if I'd followed my own advice. Instead, I signed an agreement that I didn't read and then charged off half-cocked. As a result, after tomorrow I might not be able to practice law. I truly was an idiot.

Aren't you being a little hard on yourself?" Keiko asked.

I didn't realize that I'd dozed off. I was thankful I had. To spend the rest of the night tossing and turning wouldn't help.

"I deserve all the scorn I can heap on myself. My carelessness may cost me the case." I sighed. "But there's nothing I can do about it now. I'll just have to present the best case I can tomorrow afternoon. I wish the hearing notice had specified the presiding judge."

Keiko wrinkled her forehead. "Why's that important?

"If I know the judge, I can tailor my arguments to his tendencies. Some judges care most about legal precedent; others trying are concerned about doing what they think is fair. But I don't, so I'll just have to follow Quincy's advice. Concentrate on presenting my best arguments and let the chips fall where they may."

"I'm sure your arguments will convince any judge on the planet," she said.

I didn't have the same confidence. "I need to take my mind off the hearing. Let my thoughts percolate in the background."

-10-

Overnight I hadn't dreamed up any clever arguments. Unless something came to me soon, by the end of the day L&P might have a court order thwarting my plans.

After I dressed, I hopped in my BMW. When I merged into Highway 101, the sunlight angled through the windshield and created a glare that made it difficult to see the road ahead. I remembered the last time I'd driven to San Francisco in such glare. It had been the day I'd been forced out at L&P and signed the frigging agreement. Not an omen I liked.

I stopped long enough at the Hastings library to find some failure-of-consideration cases I could cite. When I reached the courthouse steps, a line of attorneys and clients waited patiently to pass through building security. When I stepped into the building, the orderly line outside the courtroom transformed into bedlam. Lawyers, clients, and jurors raced across the rotunda, sprinted up the staircase two steps at a time, or milled around the elevator doors.

You can always spot the big-firm lawyers. The senior partner and the junior partner gravely whisper in each other's ear while in their wake flutter a horde of young associates carrying black litigation briefcases. The youngest associate always races ahead to pound the elevator button so that senior partner won't have to wait. No wonder clients complain about exorbitant litigation costs. The push of the elevator button alone probably costs over $100. I knew the scam because until four weeks ago I'd been a big-firm lawyer.

I spotted a bulletin board where the day's docket was posted. I searched for Lott & Pembroke v. Hobart L. Burrows, III. When I found it, I didn't know whether to be happy or sad. Because of the court's heavy caseload, L&P motion would be heard by Judge Martin Rykoff. Quincy had said that in Judge Rykoff's prime, Rykoff had been the finest trial judge in the city, if not the state. But had to be at least 80 years old. I'd heard that even though at times he remained brilliant, he was going senile. In the middle of an argument he frequently lapsed into never-never land.

To make it worse, Judge Rykoff's calendar was jammed. L&P v. Burrows was the last of fifteen motions the judge would hear. There would be hours of tedious waiting while those motions were argued. Even if Judge Rykoff wasn't senile, at his age he'd be exhausted long before L&P v. Burrows could be heard. He'd want to get the last case over with as quickly as possible. As quickly as possible meant granting the temporary restraining order and passing to another the judge the responsibility for a permanent injunction hearing.

The assigned courtroom was on the third floor. A crowd of briefcase carrying lawyers waited at the elevators, including Robert Beresford and Jack Fong. I had no desire to talk to them, so I headed for the stairs. I didn't look where I turned and bumped into someone.

"Sorry," I said without looking up.

"Hobie, stop," a familiar voice said. "You have one hell of a lot of explaining to do.

I looked up. A face red with rage glared at me. "Hello, Georgia." I hoped there wouldn't be a public scene.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said in a whisper that cut through me more than if she'd yelled. "Do you think I enjoy showing office space to someone who's violating a non-compete? This could ruin my reputation. People will think I knew and didn't care. That all I was interested in was a commission."

"I'm sorry. Since they never paid me, I didn't think they'd carry it this far."

Her arm twitched and thought she was going hit me with her Gucci handbag. "Well, you were wrong and my reputation will suffer because of it."

"We'll find out in court who was wrong," I said a little more bitter than I should have. "There's two sides to this case, and mine hasn't been heard."

She stomped off. Even though I didn't think I'd done anything wrong, she had every right to be mad. I should have told her of the non-compete so she could decide if she wanted to represent me. I could understand how she thought I'd acted like a self-centered jerk who didn't care if my actions hurt others.

I trudged up the stairs. When I reached the courtroom the three rows of benches behind the counsel tables were packed with attorneys waiting for their motions to be called. I had to stand against the back wall. Robert and Jack were in the front row with Georgia and a man I didn't know sitting next to them. He could be the person who'd been following me and would testify about my driving to Eloise's.

The clerk called the room to order and the Judge entered. Judge Rykoff hadn't changed much physically in the twenty years since I'd last appeared before him. He still reminded me of a tall scarecrow. The only noticeable change was that his shock of brown hair had turned silver. He also continued his habit of sitting straight backed in his chair so that he towered over everyone in the courtroom.

Rykoff's mental capacities also remained intact, most of the time. He listened to the arguments, asked a few insightful questions, and then ruled decisively, and in my opinion, correctly. All of which bode well for my arguments. A few times, though, he stopped in mid-sentence as though he forgot what he was going to say and then asked a question unrelated to the question he'd started to ask. I couldn't decide, though, if that was his technique to ask unexpected questions or if he was in fact senile.

As the motions were heard and decided, the courtroom became less and less crowded. Finally, only the last case remained.

"Next case," Judge Rykoff said in his smooth baritone.

My heart beat faster. "Lott & Pembroke versus Hobart L. Burrows, III," the clerk stated crisply.

I stepped to the defendant's counsel table and faced the Judge. Robert and the stranger walked to the other counsel table.

"And who represents whom in this case?" the Judge asked.

The stranger rose. "George Bresh of Cannady & Bresh, LLP, representing Lott & Pembroke."

I took a shallow breath. Cannady & Bresh were the pit bulls of the litigation bar, and the crew-cut and squat George Bresh resembled a pit bull.

"Hobart Burrows for himself," I said in voice that sounded shaky even to me.

Judge Rykoff peered down at the file. "I see that you were only served yesterday, Mr. Burrows. Would you like a two-day continuance until you can find counsel to represent you?"

"I object, your Honor," Bresh said. "Mr. Burrows is a long-time member of the San Francisco bar. He could easily have contacted any of dozens of lawyers that he knows to represent him. He chose not to and my clients shouldn't suffer any delay because of such an obvious ploy by Mr. Burrows."

I hadn't even thought of hiring someone to represent me or of using the lack of representation to ask for a delay. If L&P had counsel, should I do the same since I apparently had missed something obvious? I took a deep breath. I couldn't become rattled. "No, your honor. I can do so later if this matter moves to a hearing for a permanent injunction."

Judge Rykoff lowered his head and peered down his nose at me. "Surely you're aware, Mr. Burrows, of the legal standard regarding the issuance of a temporary restraining order. A temporary restraining order can be issued only if I find at this hearing that a permanent injunction will likely be issued."

"Yes, your Honor. I'm aware of that."

The corner of Judge Rykoff's mouth twitched. "And you still wish to proceed."

"Yes, your honor."

The judge nodded. "Mr. Bresh, you may present your case."

"I call Mr. Robert Beresford to the stand."

After the clerk swore in Robert, Bresh handed Robert some sheets of paper. "Is this a copy of the complaint filed in this case?"

Robert made a show of flipping through the papers. "Yes."

"Please refer to Exhibit 1 of the complaint and tell me if you are familiar with it."

Robert folded back several pages. "Yes."

"Can you tell me what Exhibit 1 is?"

"It is an agreement between my firm, Lott & Pembroke, and Mr. Burrows pursuant to which he retired from the firm."

"Would you please review Section 3(a) of this agreement?"

Robert turned over a page. His eyes moved back and forth as he read. I wanted to object and yell that he didn't need to read the section, he wrote it himself.

"Mr. Beresford, please tell the court what this section provides."

"Section 3(a) provides that Hobie, I mean, Mr. Burrows, will not engage in the practice of law in San Francisco County or any contiguous county subsequent to his retirement from Lott & Pembroke."

Bresh nodded. "Now, please review Section 3(b) and tell me what it provides."

Robert went through the same charade of reading the section. "Section 3(b) states that in exchange for Mr. Burrows promise not to practice law, the firm would pay him a lump sum equal to his draw for the prior year and -"

"If I may interrupt, Mr. Beresford, what does the term draw mean?" Bresh asked.

I rolled my eyes. Like every other lawyer on the planet, Judge Rykoff knew what "draw" meant.

"Oh yes, I should have mentioned that. Under the Lott & Pembroke partnership agreement, a partner's draw is the partner's percentage interest in the partnership's profits."

"Thank you, Mr. Beresford. Please continue."

"Section 3(b) also provides that Mr. Burrows would be paid an unreduced lifetime pension from the firm's retirement plan."

"Do all partners who leave Lott & Pembroke sign a non-compete agreement?"

Robert shook his head. "No. In accordance with legal ethics, only those who retire from the practice of law can be bound by a non-compete."

Bresh nodded. "How does a partner become eligible for an unreduced pension?"

"Normally, someone must have been a partner for at least 20 years and be at least age 65."

"How old was Mr. Burrows when he retired?

"Fifty-five."

Bresh rubbed his chin. "If Mr. Burrows was only 55, why did his retirement agreement provide for an unreduced pension?"

"Hobie had-" Robert took a deep breath. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Hobie had alienated the firm's most important client. The client threatened to take his business to another firm if Hobie remained with the firm. To induce Hobie to leave without creating an ugly scene, the firm's management committee decided to give him the year's draw and an unreduced pension if he'd agree to retire."

Bresh puckered his lips. "Who was the client that Mr. Burrows alienated?"

"Jack Morgado."

Bresh stepped closer to Robert. "Since Mr. Burrows has retired, has Mr. Morgado retained his relationship with Lott & Pembroke?"

Robert lowered his head for a moment before answering. "Mr. Morgado died in a plane crash the week after Hobie retired. Brad Hale, the chairman of the firm's management committee, also died in that crash. Their deaths and the circumstances thereof have devastated the firm."

I thought Bresh might ask about Keiko and try to sling some mud at her and imply that she was having an affair with the good-looking Brad Hale. Instead, he merely nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. I know this isn't easy, but I'm afraid I have to ask a few more questions."

"Okay," Robert replied softly.

"My understanding is that ERISA, the Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974, prohibits what are commonly referred to as bad-boy clauses in retirement plans. One such bad-boy clause is a non-compete requirement. Does the non-compete requirement in Mr. Burrows retirement agreement violate ERISA?"

I hadn't even considered ERISA, and Bresh wouldn't bring it up if it would hurt his case. I had no doubt that Robert's response would validate the non-compete.

"No. ERISA's bad-boy prohibition does not apply to the L&P partners' pension plan."

"Why is that?"

"ERISA exempts a plan that covers only partners provided plan benefits are paid from the firm's general assets rather than a trust fund."

Bresh paused. The man was a pro. He'd brought out legal ethics and then covered the highly technical area of pension law. He'd forgotten one point though. I hadn't been paid a cent.

Bresh stepped back. "If I may summarize then, in accordance with legal ethics and ERISA, Lott & Pembroke and Mr. Burrows entered into an agreement under which Mr. Burrows would receive generous retirement payments in exchange for his retirement from the practice of law."

Robert nodded.

"When were these generous payments to be made?"

I thought about objecting to Bresh's use of the word "generous," but didn't. Even I had to admit the payments were generous.

"The lump sum amount was to be paid within ten days of the date of the agreement and the pension was to commence as of the first day of the month following the date of the agreement."

"Have these payments been made."

What was Bresh up to? This was the one thing I'd counted on bring out in cross-examination. My breath became light because I knew Bresh had something planned that would devastate the basis I hoped to use to void the agreement.

Robert swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed. "No."

Bresh gave Robert a stern look as though he was surprised by the answer. "Why not?"

"Mr. Burrows traveled to France the day after he signed the agreement. I was unable to contact him to ask where to deposit his checks before the ten days passed. While Hobie was in France, the plane crash occurred." Robert closed his eyes.

Bresh stepped closer to the witness stand. "I know this is difficult, Mr. Beresford. Would you like to take a break?"

Robert blinked his eyes. "No. I'll be okay."

Grudgingly, I had to admire Bresh's tactics. He coached Robert on how to come up with an excuse and to gain sympathy at the same time. Thankfully, Judge Rykoff had been around long enough to see through a well-coached witness. I hoped.

"Please continue, Mr. Beresford."

"In addition to Brad Hale and Jack Morgado, Hobie's fiancée died in the plane crash. So, quite frankly, I had more important things to worry about, and I assumed Hobie did too."

"Yes, I imagine you all did," Bresh replied solemnly. "Has Mr. Burrows requested payment?"

"No."

Bresh nodded and rubbed his chin. "I see. Has Mr. Burrows contacted you at all?"

"He arrived unannounced at my office four days ago and demanded to see me."

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yes."

"And what did he say?"

Robert took a deep breath. I figured he was trying to remember the lines that Bresh had coached. "I thought he'd come to ask for payment. Instead, he wanted to take the desk and chair that he'd used at the firm. He told me he wanted them for the office he was opening. I reminded him of his agreement. He told me to keep the money. When I told him the firm abides by its agreements, he called me an asshole."

I'd heard about Bresh's theatrics during a trial and expected him to play on my calling Robert an asshole. Instead, he continued. "Did anything else take place."

"No. Mr. Burrows left the office in a huff."

"That's all. Thank you, Mr. Beresford." Bresh turned towards me. "Your witness, Mr. Burrows."

I started to rise when Judge Rykoff spoke. "This is a good point at which to adjourn for the day. This hearing is continued until nine a.m. tomorrow morning."

"Your Honor," Bresh said. "To continue this hearing permits Mr. Burrows to continue to violate the non-compete. He may use this time to contact more Lott & Pembroke clients."

Judge Rykoff eyebrows twitched. He turned his gaze to me. That look was more threatening than any words. If I tried to contact anyone, he'd have my scalp. I shook my head. "I think Mr. Burrows knows better than to do that before I have reached a decision. I will see all of you tomorrow morning." He rose and left the courtroom.

*

"It doesn't look good," I told Keiko that night. "Bresh knew my only hope was to argue that I hadn't been paid, so he beat me to the punch. Made it look like I avoided being paid."

Keiko wrinkled her nose. "So what? That doesn't change the fact that you haven't been paid. I wouldn't give up hope. If L&P wanted to pay you, don't you think they would have done so? There's a reason why they haven't. If you can show the judge that, then shouldn't you win?"

Her words changed my mood one hundred and eighty degrees. I smiled. "You make me wonder who's the lawyer around here. I've been too busy moping about how good Bresh was to see that the basic fact remains: I haven't been paid. I'll pound that home tomorrow. You know, I might still win this case."

-11-

I woke with my thoughts roiled by knowing that in a couple of hours I'd be back in front of Judge Rykoff. I'd stand alone facing the very real possibility that he'd issue the TRO.

Because Bresh had preempted my main line of questioning, I spent the drive to hearing deciding how I could show that L&P could have paid me if they'd wanted. I thought I knew an easy way.

After the hearing began and Robert had taken the witness stand, I began my cross-examination. "Hello, Robert," I said.

"Hobie," Robert said slinking back in the witness chair.

"How long have we known each other?"

"I object," Bresh said in a combative tone. "How long Mr. Beresford has known Mr. Burrows is irrelevant."

"Overruled this time." Judge Rykoff leaned forward to tower over me. "Mr. Burrows, we all assume you have known your partners a long time. You'd best get to your point quickly."

I didn't litigate enough to be able to establish a foundation to draw out testimony, and Bresh wouldn't make it easy for me. I thought for a moment. There might be another way I could make Robert support the point I needed to make. "Does the firm have the home address of each of its lawyers?"

Robert's eyes darted at Bresh. "I object," Bresh shouted. "The records of Lott & Pembroke are not at issue."

"Overruled," Judge Rykoff said.

Robert didn't say anything and I looked up at Rykoff. His eyes were closed. I hoped he wasn't asleep. "The witness will answer," he said without opening his eyes.

"Yes, your Honor," Robert squeaked. "Lott & Pembroke has the home address of its lawyers."

"Then, why didn't you simply mail the checks to my home address?"

I waited for Bresh to object. He didn't.

"You know the firm's policy, Hobie. We never mail a compensation check to a home address. We only make direct deposits."

Bresh had anticipated me again and coached Robert with a plausible answer. I tried to remain calm. Perhaps, another approach would work. "Okay. How is a partner's draw paid?"

"It is transferred directly from the firm's account at Imperial Bank into the partner's checking account at Imperial Bank."

"Then, why didn't you deposit the payments into my checking account?"

I didn't like the twinkle in Robert's eyes. "Under the partnership agreement, the authority to make deposits to your account was automatically revoked when you resigned as a partner. The bank would not have accepted the deposit. Surely, you remember that every retired partner signs a new authorization form at the bank of his choice."

I'd been outmaneuvered. Bresh had anticipated my every question. No wonder the firm had retained him.

I started to sit down, then remembered something Robert had said that day at the office. He'd said I hadn't been paid because the firm was having cash flow problems. I didn't know if that was true or if Robert had just made that up as an excuse. Georgia had alluded to it also. Even though I thought it must be true, from my first day at the firm, Quincy had cautioned me that at trial a lawyer should never ask a witness a question that the lawyer doesn't know for certain how the witness would answer. I decided to take a risk and ask a question that I didn't know for certain how Robert would answer. No matter what the answer, it couldn't make things any worse.

"Is it true that Lott & Pembroke is having cash flow problems?"

The lines around Robert's eyes deepened. I heard Bresh's chair scrape across the floor. "This line of questioning involves confidential matters relating to Lott & Pembroke finances. Knowledge of the firm's finances could give other law firms competitive information. Disclosure would play into Mr. Burrows' intent to irreparably harm Lott & Pembroke."

Judge Rykoff rocked back and forth in his chair. His face looked haggard as if he was exhausted. "I'd like to see counsel in chambers," Judge Rykoff said. "And Mr. Bresh bring your client with you."

Judge Rykoff stood and his shoulders stooped as if he was exhausted. We traipsed after him through a door behind the judge's bench and into a redwood-paneled judge's chamber. He took a seat behind the desk and pulled up the sleeves of his robe. "Sit down, all of you," he said gruffly.

"I'll start with you, Mr. Bresh."

"Yes, you Honor," Bresh said politely. He must have known better than to try to present any arguments until the Judge had spoken his piece.

"You've been around long enough to know that your last objection would be overruled. First, the financial condition of Lott & Pembroke is highly relevant. If it can't pay what it agreed to, even a first year law student knows there's failure of consideration for the contract. Second, the reason we're here is to decide if Mr. Burrows violated a valid agreement not to compete. Your conclusory statement that he did might influence a jury, but it only irritates me. Don't do it again in my courtroom."

The Judge turned to me and peered down his nose. I felt like a truant being taken out to the wood pile for a good paddling. "And you, Mr. Burrows. Quincy Lott detested greed. I expected better from his protégée. If you wanted to start your own firm, you should have done so openly. Not by using L&P to provide seed money and then hoping I would create new law and declare a retirement non-compete unenforceable."

The pit of my stomach dropped. Judge Rykoff was convinced I tried to pull a fast one on the firm. That I'd planned to deceive the firm into paying me for a non-compete that I believed was unenforceable. Blood rushed so fast to my face that my cheeks burned. I was so humiliated I couldn't speak.

The judge looked at each of us in turn. "I've asked you in here so we can stop this farce. I don't know why all of you are so intent on airing Lott & Pembroke's dirty laundry in public: A partner who alienates important clients, a firm that uses flimsy excuses to avoid paying its obligations under an agreement it forced on one of its partners. I knew Quincy Lott, and I damn well know he would never have countenanced such folly. He would never have signed an agreement he didn't intend to abide by, either as a law firm or as an individual. Something none of you seem to be the least bit bothered by."

The judge cleared his throat. "If I understand what's going on here, apparently, neither Lott & Pembroke nor Mr. Burrows intend to abide by their agreement. Lott & Pembroke could easily have paid Mr. Burrows in the ten day period if it wanted to or was capable of doing so. And Mr. Burrows either had second thoughts about what he was doing since he never bothered to inquire about payment or was waiting to see if he'd need the money."

I looked down at the floor. I didn't think it was the moment to admit that I'd been so devastated from being forced out of the firm that I didn't read the agreement before I signed it. The Judge would laugh me out of his office.

"I'm going to continue this matter for one week. In the interim, I want the parties to come to a resolution that avoids a public spectacle. I hope you can reach an agreement that would be one Quincy Lott would have expected of his partners."

"May I speak, your Honor," Bresh said without raising his voice.

The judge nodded. "I'd be shocked if you didn't. But, please, Mr. Bresh, be brief."

"This delay harms my client. To continue this hearing for a week is the same as to deny the TRO."

Bresh pointed a finger at me. "Mr. Burrows has already contacted at least one client. In a week's time who knows how many more clients he may contact and attempt to steal. It would also permit him to contact other lawyers in the firm and try to convince them to join him. This court should not condone such behavior."

I'd kept quiet when the Judge intimated that I'd signed a non-compete I didn't think was enforceable just so I could get some money from L&P. Bresh had picked up on that and was going to use it to further discredit me. I bolted out of my chair. "Your honor, I'd like to respond."

The judge pulled a pipe out of his pocket and tapped it on the desk. "Go ahead, Mr. Burrows."

"I too oppose any delay. My integrity has been impugned. I demand the right to establish the truth about why I, quote, retired and what has happened since. I cannot permit all of the unsupported allegations about me to stand."

The judge pointed the tip of his pipe at me. "You are living proof that a lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client. Emotion clouds reason. If you truly wish to establish the truth, I strongly suggest that you retain counsel before you appear in front of me again."

He slipped the pipe back into the pocket of his robe. "This hearing is continued until the same time and same courtroom next week." He paused to look at each of us. I was last and I could see the fury in the squint of his eye. "I hope it will not be necessary to see any of you then."

*

"I was so humiliated," I told Keiko that night. "Judge Rykoff thinks I tried to trick L&P. I have no idea what to do now. If I settle with L&P, it'll only confirm to the Judge that I'm a crook. If I go back to court, he made it clear that he'll hand me my head on a platter."

Keiko's fingers rubbed her pendant. I wondered if she was attempting to run some projections to help me decide what to do. After a moment of silence she spoke. "Hobie, you've worked your whole life to earn your reputation. Don't let Judge Rykoff intimidate you. Talk with L&P as he requested, but don't hesitate to go back to court if that's what's necessary to maintain your reputation. Don't be afraid to let the truth come out in the courtroom, including your failure to read the agreement before signing. You had the courage to tell the truth to the police in France. Do the same in Judge Rykoff's courtroom."

She saw the situation clearer than I could. "Judge Rykoff is correct about one thing. I'm too emotionally involved to think and act rationally. I'm going to have to come up with someone to represent me."

"What about Robert Lichtman. You've always spoken highly of him."

"He's probably the litigator I respect the most. He's so busy though that he might not be available to take a case on a week's notice. I'll have to get hold of him first thing tomorrow to check his availability."

-12-

The telephone rang. I didn't need to look at the clock to know that it was the middle of the night. Out of habit I grabbed the handset.

"Hobie, this is Robert."

I should have thought before I answered. Even if it wasn't the middle of the night, Robert Beresford was the last person in this or any other universe that I wanted to talk to. Before I could tell him to buzz off, he spoke.

"Hobie, please don't hang up. I know it's late, but we just ended a long partnership meeting. We need to talk. Just you and me and Jack. No outside lawyers. We've figured out a way to resolve this misunderstanding. I think it'll please you. Can you meet us at eight-thirty this morning at the Club?"

Robert's voice trembled the whole time. Was he nervous that I tell him to go to hell? And why no outside lawyers? I thought for a moment and it became obvious. He and Jack had probably figured out I'd retain either Bob Lichtman or Han Wo. They were afraid either would shred L&P's case.

I debated what to do. I had nothing to lose if I listened. Perhaps, they'd offer something palatable. If not and Judge Rykoff wanted to know if I'd made an effort to settle, I could testify I had. I needed to be careful though. This could be a ruse to try to make me do something that would hurt my case. I'd keep my mouth shut. I wouldn't be tricked into saying something that could be twisted and used against me.

"Hobie, are you there?" Robert squeaked.

"Fine. I'll see you then," I said. "Now goodnight."

I hung up and rolled back over. In a few seconds, I fell asleep. The vid-archive picked up immediately.

-13-

I'd promised Keiko that I'd get on with my life, and I intended to keep that promise. But Judge Rykoff was a massive obstacle to overcome. In essence, he had ordered me to settle with Lott & Pembroke. How could I without it appearing to the world that I'd broken my word? Plus, I couldn't agree to the non-compete. The practice of law was the one thing left that gave my life purpose.

Then I remembered Robert's call. Perhaps, L&P would offer a palatable compromise.

When I arrived at the Club, Ramon, his green jacket even more rumpled than usual, opened the door. "Good morning, Mr. Burrows. I'm glad you finally arrived. Mr. Beresford has come out of the lounge three times in the last ten minutes to ask if you'd arrived. I told him I'd send you in the moment you did."

"Sorry he's bothered you, Ramon."

"No bother." He winked at me. "It's my job."

Despite the temptation to take a seat in the reception parlor and see how long it took until Robert pestered Ramon again, I entered the lounge. Robert was sitting in the same leather chair next to the redwood grandfather clock as Georgia had when Jack Fong spotted the office lease folder. Robert and Jack must have thought it'd be clever to meet in the exact same place. I could just picture the two of them telling each other what a brilliant move they'd concocted, and I had to admit it succeeded in making me feel uncomfortable.

Robert spotted me and stretched his neck like a crane. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come," he said. He pointed to the chair I'd sat in when I'd met Georgia.

I didn't appreciate his presumptuous attitude, but took the seat anyway. I wouldn't give him the pleasure of saying I'd like to talk somewhere else. He'd think his choice of seats had flustered me.

I sat and as if on cue, a white-jacketed waiter appeared. "Coffee, Mr. Burrows?"

"Yes, thank you."

Before I could even pour some cream, Robert spoke. "Hobie, I'm not going to beat around the bush. The past month has been tough on all of us. I didn't think it could get any worse. Then, yesterday's nightmare. Afterwards, Jack and I realized what a mistake we'd made. We called a partnership meeting to find a way to resolve this."

I was amazed. He said all of that without his Adam's apple bobbing once. I wondered how long he practiced what he was going to say. I took a sip of coffee to keep from responding.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke. He probably expected me to say something, like I understood. I wouldn't. This was his show; I'd only come to watch. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Jack and I realize now that we shouldn't have permitted Brad to bully us into asking you to leave. We resisted, but Brad said it was you or him." His Adam's apple bobbed. "I'm sure you can appreciate what a tough position that put us in. You know how much Jack and I have always respected you. But, please, put yourself in our shoes. I know that for the good of the firm you would've made the same decision. We had no idea what Brad and Jack Morgado were up to."

The veins in my neck pulsed. What unmitigated gall to expect me to agree with what he did in booting me out of the firm. I knew I'd decided to say no more than I had to, but this was too much. "That's pure bullshit and you know it. If Brad had told me that he'd leave if I didn't agree to can you and Jack, I'd have told him to go to hell. And to take Jack Morgado with him."

Robert lowered his head. "I know you would have. That's why Jack and I feel so rotten. Why we want so desperately to set things right. As do the rest of the partners."

This was some performance. He even managed to shed a crocodile tear. Enough was enough; it was time to end this farce. "If you felt so rotten, then why'd you sue me?"

I stood. Robert grabbed my forearm. "Wait."

I looked down at him. His face had never looked craggier. "The vote at last night's partnership meeting was unanimous. We want you back as a partner. It'll be as if you never left."

To say I was stunned would be an understatement. Of all the scenarios I could have dreamed up, this never entered my mind. The whole partnership voting to have me return. Hell, most of the time they couldn't even agree on what day of the week it was. "Are you trying to toy with me?"

"No, Hobie. I meant every word. The whole firm wants you back."

He reached into his suit pocket. "Here's the original of your agreement. You can tear it up right now and walk back to the office with me. Everyone's waiting."

It took every shred of self control I possessed not to grab that piece of paper, tear into shreds, throw it on the floor, and stomp on it. But something about this didn't pass the smell test. I needed to talk to Keiko before I agreed.

"I need to think about this," I said. "What you're offering is something I never imagined could happen. I don't know what to think. It cut me so deep when I left the firm that . . ." I couldn't finish.

Robert squeezed my arm in reassurance. "I understand. I'll explain to the others how overwhelmed you are. Meet me here again tomorrow morning. I'll have Jack with me. We'll work out any concerns you may have then so that your return is as smooth as possible."

"Okay, tomorrow," I said.

*

"I was so numb that the next few hours are a big blur. I started walking and ended up on Nob Hill staring at Quincy's old house," I told Keiko that night. "I took enough psychology courses in college to realize why I went there. My subconscious was telling me this is an opportunity to restore the firm to Quincy's principles. Robert and Jack realize the errors of following Brad's leadership. I've been given the opportunity to make L&P great again."

Keiko never said a word in response, but if a look could kill, I'd have been disintegrated. Her face melted into darkness.

-15-

I jolted upright. My bedroom was black. I looked at my alarm. It was only 2:12 a.m. Too early to get up; plenty of time to toss and turn.

With all of the acid I'd exuded, the lining of my stomach wouldn't last until tomorrow night. I had to talk with Keiko. I needed to knock myself out, so I plodded into the bathroom and grabbed the sleeping pills bottle. I opened the cap. I counted out four pills to make sure I'd fall asleep fast. I stopped. A handful of sleeping pills wouldn't resolve anything, and it could make matters worse. I didn't need to confront Keiko while I was this upset.

I traipsed into the bedroom and stretched out on my bed. I forced all thoughts away and stared at the ceiling. I must have closed my eyes and dozed off without realizing it because hazel eyes greeted me. "Are you talking to me now?" I asked.

"Only if you've come to your senses."

I shook my head. "What are you talking about? Why were you so upset that you wouldn't talk to me earlier?"

"Oh, Hobie. Face the truth. Do you really think that you can go back to Lott & Pembroke as if nothing happened?"

"I think Robert and Jack finally realize the mistake they made in going along with Brad."

I must have been an errant child again. "Hobie, Hobie. Why did Robert wait until after he sued you to come this epiphany?"

"It's hard for a layman to understand, but lawyers do their best thinking when pressured by events. Robert must have realized after the court hearing that the firm would be stronger with me than without me. Jack came to the same conclusion."

Keiko sighed and shook her head. "I can't tell you what to do, but in my opinion, Robert has always looked out solely for Robert. You trained him and made sure he became a partner. Then when he thought Brad could lead him to greater riches, he forced you out. Now he wants you back. I don't believe he's sincere Something's going on because Robert doesn't have a sincere bone in his body. And Jack Fong is such a worm he doesn't have a bone in his body."

"I don't know, Keiko. Deep in their hearts, they both want to do the right thing."

"The right thing for whom: them or you?" She bit her lip. "Robert may not be as violent, but he's as devious. It's dangerous to lower your guard."

-16-

First thing the next morning, I headed into the bathroom to find an antacid. I didn't want my stomach churning when I met Robert and Jack. It would make some impression if I threw up while we negotiated my return to L&P.

The antacid didn't survive the drive into San Francisco. Heavy rain pelted my windshield. I had to slow in order to see the road's lane markings. Twice cars swerved in front of me and I had to slam on the brakes to avoid an accident. By the time I arrived at the Club the acid in my stomach was rocking back and forth faster than the windshield wipers.

Because of the rain, I arrived a few minutes late. I waved to Ramon as I scurried up the redwood stairs. Normally at this time of day, the dining room would be packed. Evidently, the inclement weather had delayed everyone down because only a few tables were occupied. Jack and Robert were waiting in an isolated corner. Jack rose and stuck out his hand. "Hobie, glad you could make it."

Evidently, pudgy Jack couldn't wait to eat until I arrived. One glance at the half-cooked egg with its runny yolk oozing over his plate caused my stomach to lurch. I raised my hand to my mouth and swallowed back the rising bile.

Jack's eyebrows formed question marks.

"Sorry," I said. "Upset stomach. Must be something I ate last night."

Jack sat down. "My stomach's been upset all night too. I have an important meeting with the Imperial Bank in thirty minutes. I find food helps to calm me. Would you like some eggs?"

Jack must have been upset a lot in the past month because his double chin had grown. "No food. I'll just stick with juice this morning," I said.

"I have to leave in a few minutes to make sure I get to the meeting on time, so I'll be brief," Jack said. "Since Brad's death, I've been reviewing the firm's finances."

I nodded. Jack was the firm's senior tax partner and he'd always had his finger on the pulse of the firm's finances.

"This lawsuit is a needless drain on our resources. Bresh doesn't come cheap and he demanded an advance retainer. He's used that up already and wants another advance. At this rate, a trial will run into, well a lot. You'll find out how expensive it is if we don't settle and you have to hire counsel."

He paused and scooped a piece of toast through the running yolk. He took a big bite. My stomach lurched again.

Jack must have thought my discomfort was from his mentioning litigation expense. "The perfect solution for all of us is for you to rejoin the firm. We all avoid the cost of litigation and all of the clients remain at L&P where they belong. So, welcome back to Lott & Pembroke. And as a token of our thanks for rejoining us, we'll increase your draw by ten percent. Your draw will be the same as Robert's and mine."

Robert's head was bobbing on his long neck like a toy and Jack grinned like a cat who'd just eaten a canary. What a difference a month made. My mind flashed back to the meeting where these two had forced me to resign. Jack had told me it didn't make financial sense for the firm to pay my large draw because I didn't attract enough business. He claimed it made more sense for the firm to hire new associates to do the work I did. The firm could hire three associates for less than my draw and the partners could share the resulting profits. Everyone, but me of course, would benefit.

How could I suddenly be worth more money? The only explanation was that in the past month they'd realized my importance as the firm's legal technician. Evidently, they'd learned the hard way that no associate could research the difficult issues or draft documents for complex deals as skillfully as I could. "That's a generous offer. I'm flattered," I said.

"We thought you would be," Robert said with a broad grin.

Jack pulled a piece of paper out of his briefcase. "I'm seeing Imperial Bank about the firm's finances. They'll be happy to know you're back on board. I hate to ask on such short notice, but would you sign this loan and collateral agreement? It'll increase our credit line significantly and help us avoid a cash crunch until we can get the firm back on sound financial footing."

Jack handed me the agreement and Robert pulled out a pen out of his shirt pocket. I could see the anticipation in both their eyes, and what they were up to was so obvious that even I could figure it out. They needed my assets to bolster the financial balance sheet of partners guarantying the line of credit. With Brad gone, the Bank would demand that someone replace his guaranty. I would do nicely. Plus, because the bank required annual financial assets statements from partners, it even had on file my most recent financial statement. I'm not independently wealthy, but unlike Robert, I haven't spent every penny I ever made. I've got assets the bank could claim if the firm defaulted.

I threw my napkin on the table. "You slimy bastards! Do you think I'm so desperate to regain my partnership that I don't know why you're doing this? You can take that guaranty and shove it up your asses."

Jack's mouth dropped. Robert's head shook back and forth. "No, Hobie. It's not what it looks like."

"Then what the hell is it, Robert?"

"It's not just the guaranty. We need you, Hobie. Don't do this to the firm. Not after all these years."

I couldn't be bought that easily. "You should have thought of that a month ago." I turned and didn't look back as my anger propelled me out the dining room.

It didn't occur to me until I'd reached California Street that I might have acted hastily. If I didn't reach an agreement with L&P, I'd be back in Judge Rykoff's courtroom. My concern lasted less that a second. I didn't care because there was no way I'd agree to go back to L&P as long as Robert and Jack were in charge. My anger surfaced again and I sprinted into a cross walk.

I heard tires squeal. I turned my head and a taxi skidded to a stop three feet from me. "You dumb shit!" the driver yelled.

I couldn't contain the rage that had been building. I turned to shout at the jerk. "Fuh," was as far as I got before I grasped what I was doing. "Sorry," I said and stepped back onto the curb.

*

"I turned around and walked back to the garage after that," I told Keiko. "I've never felt like such a jackass. I almost caused a taxi to run me over and then I'm ready to rant at the cabbie. He saved my life by being alert. How could I be such an idiot? I've always prided myself on controlling my emotions and handling everything with a reasoned approach."

-17-

The phone rang and the Keiko's image faded. Early morning sun slanting through the bedroom window. "Hello," in a cross tone.

"I'm the one who should be grumpy," Eloise Granden said in her mocking tone.

"I'm sorry, Eloise. Lately, I always seem to be grumpy when I wake up."

"I love you, sweetie, but sometimes you're so wrapped up in the trees that you can't see the forest."

I glanced at my alarm clock. Seven o'clock was too early in the morning to appreciate Eloise's pithy critiques. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Well, sweetie, for one thing, you're lucky that I decided to slip off to Hawaii after we talked. I would have boxed your ears off if I'd received this damn subpoena to appear in court two days ago. What in the dickens are you involved in?"

I wasn't sure where to start. "You were served with a subpoena?"

"Earth to Hobie. Yes, I was served. Fortunately, I wasn't served by some bozo until I returned home. After the date of the court hearing. Now fess up. What's going on?"

I slipped to the side of the bed and plopped my feet on the cold floor. Why didn't I tell her, and Georgia? I'd managed to bring both of them into my problem. "I signed an agreement when I left Lott & Pembroke."

"I can read the copy of the complaint they gave me, sweetie. It's your turn to tell me something that I don't know. Like are you still my attorney?"

Eloise always did have a way of getting to the point before I did. "The judge continued the hearing for a week so that the firm and I could work out a settlement. I don't think there will be a settlement since I told the firm to, ah." I paused to consider how to phrase it.

This was Eloise, why beat - as she would say \- "arooooound" the bush. "I told them to stick it up their asses."

"Good for you, Hobie. Except for you and Quincy, I always thought they were a bunch of pompous snots. So, now that you've crossed that bridge, when are you moving up to Napa Valley?"

Not only was Eloise direct, she was persistent. I stood and glanced at the ceiling. "I don't think that'd solve anything. Judge Rykoff may still rule in the firm's favor."

"I'm no lawyer, but the way I see it, they got no case if your office is in Napa County."

Non-lawyers sometimes don't understand. "The agreement says that I can't work for any L&P clients."

Eloise harrumphed, which made me stop and think. The non-compete says I can't work for any client who maintains its principal place of business in San Francisco County or any contiguous county. "So? Napa's not contiguous to San Francisco, but I still can't open an office in San Francisco without violating the non-compete."

"Quincy always told me you were the best technician he ever trained, but that I'd need to keep you focused on the real world." I could visualize her shaking her head and smirking. "I didn't know it would involve so much effort."

"Eloise, I'm not that dense. I love you dearly, but I can't move to Napa. My life is here."

There was a sigh, full of what Eloise would call poignancy. "I hate to be so crass, but what life? Your law firm is suing you." She took a deep breathe and I realized what was coming. "And Keiko's dead. Everything there can only serve to remind you of what you've lost. For your own good, you've got to start anew."

I let out a deep breath. "I can't go on if I can't practice law. Without Keiko, it's all I have left to make me want to get out of bed in the morning. And it'd take more than one client to make it in Napa. It won't work."

I could only imagine how pathetic I sounded to Eloise. Who would want to be represented by a lawyer who couldn't control his emotions.

"One thing you have in common with Quincy Lott is that you always spend too much time analyzing if you did the right thing. I'll tell you the same thing I told him: It's a mistake only if you let it stop you from moving on in a positive fashion."

"What's positive about losing the profession I've spent my whole life honing?"

"Do you have any idea how much I paid to Lott & Pembroke over the last ten years in fees?" she asked in that indignant tone that said I should know.

I never bothered with billing. I figured wonks like Jack could handle the firm finances. "No. I left that to the billing department."

"If you can't pay overhead and make a nice living off more than a million dollars a year from one client, you are one greedy s-o-b. But then, I wouldn't be talking to you if you were."

*

"More than as a client, you're a lucky person to have Eloise as a friend," Keiko said that night.

"I know. But would my moving to Napa Valley be ridiculous?"

-18-

I plodded out to the kitchen table to fix some coffee. I would accept the pain of the real Keiko being gone forever. I couldn't, however, bear not being able to practice law. I needed it to keep me going.

Even though the non-compete clause shouldn't be enforced, I couldn't be certain what Judge Rykoff would do if we traipsed back into his courtroom. Besides, Eloise had me thinking that moving to Napa Valley would be the best solution. L&P couldn't complain because my office wouldn't be in San Francisco. Judge Rykoff would be off the hook of having to make a decision that he obviously wanted to avoid. Most importantly, I'd be able to practice law without a cloud hanging over my head, and according to Eloise, quite prosperously. Another plus would be that, except for Eloise, probably no one in Napa had heard or cared about what happened to me in France. I wouldn't have to face a constant litany of questions.

I decided that after breakfast I'd write a letter to Robert and Jack to tell them I'd decided to observe the non-compete and release L&P from any obligation to pay me. Hopefully, they'd agree to take the case off Judge Rykoff's calendar. If not, I'd bet Judge Rykoff would close the case when I told him my decision and order L&P to pay.

I was in the middle of drafting my letter when the phone rang. "Hello," I said.

"Hobie," said a voice I didn't want to hear.

"Robert, I don't want to talk to you. There's nothing more to say. Goodbye."

"Wait, please don't hang up." I could picture Robert's Adam's apple was bobbing like a yo-yo. "I'm calling to apologize about yesterday. Jack and I handled the whole situation poorly."

"No shit. Now, goodbye. I'm busy."

"No, no. Wait. There's something else."

Robert could be whiny, but I'd never heard such a pleading tone. "You've got ten seconds."

"Hobie, Jack and I want you to join us on the Managing Committee. The firm needs your leadership more than ever."

Some people never give up. "Robert, don't you get it? I'm tired of your continuing ploys to get me to sign that guaranty."

"No. This is the truth. The firm needs you." He paused and I could hear his famous swallow down that long neck. "Jack would shoot me if he knew I was telling you this before you agreed. After Brad's death, we discovered that Brad had been embezzling money. Somehow, he'd managed to purloin the entire line of credit and several months' billings. All of the money has disappeared. Imperial Bank refuses to increase our line and is demanding repayment of all outstanding credit lines. Their lawyer is threatening to throw us into Chapter 7 liquidation proceedings."

So that was the reason for all of the staff changes. They couldn't afford the overhead. Perhaps, they did need a Quincy-type leader to guide them back to sound financial footing. If I could do that, then I could convince them to return to Quincy's principles. A golden opportunity to lead L&P back to its roots and undo all of the damage Brad's greed inflicted.

First, though Jack Fong had to resign from the Managing Committee. His ideas would never match mine. He didn't care about principles. All he could do was count pennies spent. "I'll consider your offer, but only if Jack's off the Committee. His concepts for the firm don't fly with me."

I thought Robert would hesitate. He didn't. "You get Eloise Granden to pay a $1,000,000 retainer, and Jack's history."

I needed to set the tone now, make sure Quincy's ideals governed the new L&P. "Quincy didn't believe in retainers. The firm's paid after it performs the work."

"Times change, Hobie. No firm can survive without the cash flow advantages of a retainer. Get the money. Then worry about billing hours to use it up. That's easy enough to do with a bunch of associates out researching esoteric problems. And the Mills litigation is going to a gold mine in legal fees."

I felt as though I'd been sucker punched. No matter how much I want the rot at L&P to end, it kept growing. The time had arrived to end the rot once and for ever. "I won't, Robert. That type of thinking is over. Under my leadership, the firm earns its fees. It doesn't expect a free ride."

"Hobie, this is no time for idealism. If we don't get a million dollars, the bank's going to start bankruptcy proceedings. That happens and the firm ends?"

I didn't hesitate. "We can beat them to the punch. We can file for Chapter 11 reorganization first. With some hard work and negotiations, we can emerge stronger than ever. It won't be an ending, it'll be the beginning of the return to Quincy's principles."

"Goddamn you, Hobie. We need the one million. Not some convoluted Chapter 11 proceeding."

"You want me, you go along with what I say."

During the pause I could hear Robert swallow and his Adam's apple bob. "You don't leave me any choice. The bank's frigging lawyer wrote the cross defaults so tightly that if we don't pay you the non-compete amounts, we'll be in immediate default. I don't have any choice. You walk and the firm's history. Imperial will take me for every penny I have."

*

"Keiko, I almost dropped the phone. Robert didn't care about a return to Quincy's principles. All he cared about was saving his personal assets from a Chapter 7 bankruptcy.

"When I told him to forget it, he went berserk. He even told me that he's convinced you weren't abducted. He thinks you ran away with Brad and knew where the money went. He threatened that if he's ever able to connect you or me with Brad's embezzlement, he'll personally make sure he destroys me. I told him to go diddle himself. It's a good thing he wasn't talking to me in person because I would have punched his lights out."

Keiko's tilted her head. "I've told you repeatedly that Robert's only interest is his own. I don't know why that's such a surprise to you. But what's the difference is there between Chapter 11 and a Chapter 7? They're bankrupt in any case, right?"

"Yeah. But in a Chapter 11 the purpose is to restructure the firm's debt so it remains in existence. In a Chapter 7 the firm goes out of existence. The court appoints a trustee to collect what assets the firm has and to pay its creditors. Unfortunately, with a partnership and Imperial Bank's refusal to waive liability in the credit agreements, all general partners are liable for all of the firm's debts. Robert's assets could be grabbed by the firm's creditors."

Keiko raised her eyebrows. "Aren't you afraid they could reach your assets? You were a partner until a few weeks ago."

"Yeah, they probably could take my assets in a worse case scenario. But, you know, I don't care. I lost you. I'll never see my son. What's the loss of money after that?"

A tear trickled out of the corner of Keiko's eye. "That's why I love you. You know what's important."

"I hope you still love me after I tell you what I've decided to do."

"You know I will."

"The firm's creditors can have everything I own. I'm moving to Honolulu, starting anew. I'll tell Judge Rykoff that won't violate the non-compete. I'm going to be an island lawyer."

Keiko's eyes widened. "Hawaii?"

"Yeah. When I was an associate, Quincy had me take the Hawaii bar exam and get admitted to the Hawaii bar. Even back then Eloise's relatives were constantly bringing suits in Hawaii courts. Quincy figured that if I was admitted, then we didn't have the expense and inconvenience of needing to hire local counsel in Hawaii. I'm still a member of the Hawaii bar and with Eloise's case I'd have to spend a lot of time there anyway. I decided it would be a perfect place to start afresh."

Keiko smiled widely. "I assume I'm invited."

"I wouldn't, couldn't, do it without you."

###

If you have not read **A Dream Is A Pinhole In Time,** it tells Hobie's and Keiko's backstory. It and the other stories in the series **The Tales of The Encircling Belts of Tirano Saga** are available at Smashwords, Amazon Kindle, etc.
