Dog Law — Michael Monhollon

Robin Starling, Lady Lawyer
“What did Carly say about me?” I asked.
   “That you were new here and really, really nice, but she understood you'd been fired from your last job for being -- ” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “ -- something of a loose cannon.” The drop in volume was a habit of speech Carly had when she was delivering the goods on someone.
   “And after those introductions, Chloe chose me over Dave. Interesting. Disconcerting, even.”    “She said her daughter would be more comfortable with a lady lawyer.”    I shook my head. Lady lawyer was a phrase I'd be happy to go the rest of my life and never hear again.    “You do wonder why she'd be lawyer-shopping in an executive suite. Does it bother you that she seems to have chosen you because she thought you'd be a lightweight?”    “Not at all. I'm a blonde female just a few months over thirty-one. I get that kind of thing all the time.”

Her love life
I tore open the protein bar. It was a bit melted from Paul's body heat, but I took a bite and chewed. “Messy, but delicious,” I said with my mouth full.
   “Do you always carry protein bars?” Brooke asked Paul.
   “One of the benefits of having a fat boyfriend,” I said, chewing.
   “Ouch,” Brooke said. “She called you fat.”
   “She called me her boyfriend.”
   “So she did.” They both looked at me.

Her family life
My puppy and I spent Christmas in Charlottesville with my mother and my brother and his family. My father, long estranged from the family after leaving my mother for his veterinary assistant, showed up for lunch, bringing presents. Nobody told me he was coming, and his expression was cautious when he spoke to me -- or even looked at me.
   “Look,” I said finally. “I'm not the scary bitch you seem to think I am.”
   “Said the scary bitch in her most belligerent voice,” my brother said.
   “You're not helping,” I said.
   “Sorry.” Though he didn't look it.

Her professional life
Paul said, “I understand the case changed on you this week.”
   I exhaled. “Yes, it did that.”
   “And it wasn't even your fault,” Paul said.
   “What do you mean by that?”
   “Well, to be fair, all your cases tend to thunder along like a pack of greyhounds.”
   I rolled my eyes.
   “Just tell us the story,” Paul said. “Start from the beginning, right where this exquisitely beautiful woman walks into your office.”
   My eyes slid to Brooke.
   “Describe her body in as much detail as you'd like,” Paul said. “I don't mind. Start with her slim, silky legs, and work your way up.”