Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Marnie shakes her head dolefully, brown curls bouncing.
“No, I don’t think so. I can see he’s active on Insta, although he hasn’t posted anything. He’s just hearting other girls’ posts.”
I stare at her.
“Are you serious? Have you tried to contact him?”
“About a million times,” Marnie replies in a droll tone. “After twenty minutes of waiting at the restaurant, I must have texted at least five times. The messages went on “read” but he never texted a response, and then when I called, his phone went straight to voicemail.”
“What an asshole!” I say indignantly, my cheeks flushing with anger. “What the hell is up with these men? How can they treat us like this? It’s enough to turn a girl into a psychopath.”
“I know, or a lesbian, right? Or a nun, or some kind of aromantic person because I swear, guys these days are sooo low quality. I’m not going out with these dusty losers anymore.”
“Me neither,” I say with another sniffle. “Man, it’s rough out there!”
“You’re telling me,” Marnie agrees in a low tone. “But in other news, I got a new job!” she says, perking up. “Did I mention that?”
“No, but congrats, girlfriend! I thought you liked being a paralegal though?”
“No, I’m still a paralegal,” Marnie says with a smile. “I just switched firms. I’m now working for a smaller, boutique firm called Gibson Grant.”
I narrow my eyes in confusion.
“Wait, I’ve heard the name before. Isn’t that the firm that handled your dad’s … well, his … you know?”
“His execution?” Marnie asks.
“Yes,” I respond tentatively. “I mean, I’m so sorry about what happened. But your dad was their client, right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” my friend says in a straight tone.
I peer at my buddy through the phone.
“So why are you working there?” I ask in a confused tone. “Weren’t you really happy where you currently are? I thought they even awarded you “Paralegal of the Month” recently.”
Marnie smiles easily.
“They did, and I love my current employer to pieces. But there’s still a lot about my dad’s death that’s a mystery, and I want to find out more. So I applied for a paralegal position at Gibson, Grant, and wa-la! I’ve been hired.”
I stare at Marnie through the screen because I’m getting some weird vibes here.
“Marns, they do know that Stanley’s your dad, right?” I ask cautiously.
She shrugs.
“Probably not, because our last name is so common. Plus, there’s no reason to think that I’d be Stanley’s daughter when we live in Minnesota and he was executed in California. But anyways, I want to talk to his attorneys. There were two leads, and I need to talk to them to figure out what happened.”
I shake my head.
“But why? And for what? I thought you had access to them when this all went down, so why now?”
“No, I didn’t,” Marnie says. “When Stanley was in the throes of his clemency appeal, his attorneys were busy. I mean, they were trying to save a man from being executed, and I didn’t want to get in the way, or burden then with more questions when they were already overburdened.”
“Okay, so you didn’t have much contact with them then. But still, why now? And for what purpose? Your dad’s gone, girlfriend, and I know it’s sad, but is it a good idea to excavate what’s dead and buried? Sorry for the gruesome metaphors, Marns. You know I don’t mean it that way.”
My friend nods determinedly.
“No, it’s fine, and I definitely think it’s worth it to talk with his attorneys again. Gibson and Grant were the legal brainiacs behind the clemency petition, and I just want to re-evaluate this stuff for myself.”
I shake my head.
“I hope you’re not going all Erin Brockovich on me.”
“No, of course not!” Marnie proclaims. “This is my dad we’re talking about!”
I shake my head.
“But still, I remember seeing those two attorneys on TV with your dad. They looked like sharks.”
It’s true too because Stanley Williams’ two lawyers were gorgeous onscreen. They were older but insanely handsome with silver-streaked hair, square jaws, and penetrating blue eyes. And boy, but those men could fill out a suit! They definitely didn’t look like dudes who pored over legal treatises for hours every day. They looked like modern day Adonises who hit the gym regularly, and ate a strict diet.
Still, I don’t know if this is a good idea. My friend has now been hired by Gibson and Grant, but they don’t know who she really is, and they definitely don’t know that she has a connection to their most infamous client.
Mind your business first, Avalon, the voice in my head whispers. You have massive problems of your own, seeing that you’re about to be a single mom dealing with a ruthless trillionaire.
My conscience is right, and yet I care about my friend and smile tremulously at her through the camera.