“It’s not just about a relationship,” she said softly. “It’s about love.”
“I don’t need love.”
“Everyone needs love.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Especially you.”
• 5 •
Compared to Zara’s previous law firms, Cruz & Lovitt was barely a blip on the Bay Area legal scene. With only two partners, three associates, and a handful of staff, the boutique personal injury firm couldn’t afford financial district rents. Instead, the partners had converted the loft of a historical residence in Lower Potrero into a unique modern office space. Zara loved the exposed brick walls and wide-plank wood floors that ran through the reception and kitchen area. Bright, airy meeting rooms had been converted from former bedrooms, and her spacious office had once been a dining room. Furnished with a large black leather couch, reclaimed-wood shelving, and a wide live-edge desk beside a huge casement window, her office would have been the envy of the city associates she’d left behind. Except for her unexpected visitor.
“Why are you sleeping on my couch?” She nudged Faroz Jalal awake. The firm’s private investigator had made himself cozy with the yellow throw and pillows she’d bought to match the Lion King musical print on her wall.
“It’s more comfortable than a cardboard box.” He yawned and rubbed a hand through hair cut military short. A former CIA operative—or so he claimed—Faroz wore combat boots buffed to a perfect shine, camo pants, and a tight gray T-shirt that clung to the planes and angles of his lean frame. He was in his late thirties and had been working with the firm for the last three years. “How did it go?”
Zara dropped her laptop case on her desk. She’d spent the morning on a movie set, and the afternoon in a tiny boardroom with her stuntman client and four sweaty insurance lawyers who didn’t seem to have heard of deodorant.
“We couldn’t come to a settlement so it looks like we’re heading for trial.” Zara grinned. There was nothing she enjoyed more than litigating a case in court. “I thought taking the insurer’s legal team to visit the movie set would make a difference. It’s one thing to read about someone jumping out of a burning helicopter; something else to see exactly how far our client fell when his safety harness snapped. But they still weren’t prepared to give us what we wanted.”
“Did I just hear you didn’t settle the case?” Tony “the Tiger” Cruz walked into the office, his lanky six-foot frame hidden beneath a slightly oversized suit, thick blond curls escaping from beneath his green Yoda beanie. A former stuntman, Tony had suffered a career-ending back injury after an accident on a movie set. A bad settlement with the studio’s insurers had led him to pursue a career as an attorney. After a few years working for the public defender’s office, he’d opened the firm with his friend Lewis Lovitt. Their clients came through Tony’s connections to the movie industry, a network of paid informants, and aggressive advertising based on a branding platform that was second to none.
“Looks like we’re going to court.” Her smile faded when Tony frowned. “Or not?”
“Not.” He turned to Faroz and lifted a brow. “Don’t you have work to do? I thought you were chasing down a lead for that banana peel slip-and-fall.”
“Report is on your desk. The plaintiff is a serial banana peel planter. Five grocery stores this month.” Faroz stood and stretched. “I guess I’ll go chase a few ambulances since a man can’t even relax for five minutes in this sweatshop.”
With a short laugh, Tony waved him out the door. “I heard there was an accident on Central Freeway. You might want to stop by.” He enjoyed playing the role of slimy PI lawyer, but he and Lewis operated an ethical firm—no ambulance chasing, crash site visiting, or trawling emergency wards. They were good employers, savvy businessmen, sharp negotiators, legal aid supporters, and fierce advocates for their clients. Zara had no qualms about recommending the firm to her friends and family.
“You don’t seem happy about taking the case to court,” Zara said after Faroz had gone.
“Trials are long, expensive, and stressful for clients.” Tony leaned against the doorframe, one foot crossed over the other. “They’re also not cost-effective if we’re working on a contingency basis, and there is always a risk that the client walks away with nothing. We hired you for your court experience, but we hoped you wouldn’t have to use it.”
“So back to the settlement table?” She swallowed the fear that Tony would use this as a reason to let her go at the end of her one-year contract. After leaving her two previous positions by mutual agreement, she’d never get hired by another firm if this job didn’t work out.
“Tell Janice to book one of the meeting rooms for tomorrow morning and we’ll go over it together,” he said. “I’ve dealt with that insurance company before. They have no interest in going to court. We just need to find the right pressure points.” He adjusted the custom-designed lightsaber holstered at his side. A big Star Wars fan, he claimed the Force helped him with his most difficult cases, and with his track rate of success, his clients were inclined to agree.
“Thanks, Tony. I won’t let you down.”
“Lewis and I are taking Daniel for a drink to celebrate his recent settlement. Do you want to join us?” He checked his watch. “He should be here soon.”
Daniel King, aka Mole Boy, worked at night and slept during the day as a result of a sleep disorder that he had struggled with since he was young. Whereas other law firms had been unwilling to accommodate an associate who couldn’t work regular office hours, Lewis and Tony had jumped at the opportunity to provide twenty-four-hour service to their clients.
“I would love to, but my dad is coming to pick me up for my cousin’s sangeet in Carmel Valley.” She was grateful for the excuse. Mole Boy’s nocturnal existence meant he was socially awkward at best, and the few times they’d been out for drinks together she’d been forced to carry the conversation for both of them.
“Weddings are the best place to find clients.” Tony started for the door. “Keep a stack of cards handy in case someone falls on the dance floor or chokes on an oyster. Don’t forget to tuck one under the windshield of every car in the parking lot. Who knows what misfortune might befall someone on the way home?”
When he’d gone, she tidied her desk and sent her meeting notes to Janice to put in the file. This was so not the life she’d imagined when she’d graduated from law school with visions of meeting celebrities and doing meaningful work promoting diversity in the entertainment industry. But that path had taken her to two big-city firms that were rife with competitiveness and backstabbing. Cruz & Lovitt had offered her an alternative. Firm believers in work-life balance, and accepting of people who didn’t fit the corporate mold, Tony and Lewis had given her a chance to forge her own path in an atmosphere of mutual cooperation.