Lanie's Lessons (8 page)

She sauntered toward the restrooms, looking back at the last minute, she found Ethan’s eyes on her. He wore an amused look, obviously having taken in the whole scene. She beamed at him and gave a little wave, feeling no qualms about leaving him on his own now. But she planned to hurry back all the same.

Chapter Seven

As she entered the ladies room, she bumped into a familiar face from court. Victoria Studor, the judge that presided over the Deever’s trial. “Judge Studor,” she managed. “This is a surprise.”

“It is? Didn’t Ethan tell you we were meeting for dinner?”

“We’re having dinner with the chief justice and his wife.”

At her nod, Lanie realized what an idiot she was and wanted to kick herself. “I’m having a blonde moment, obviously. Ethan always calls him Ray, but it’s Raymond Studor. I never put you two together.”

She smiled. “Don’t worry, dear. Actually, it’s refreshing not being part and parcel with Ray for a change. We’ve been married over thirty years and people see us as a matched set all too often. Although early on, I was only seen as the woman behind the man with the gavel.”

“Living in the shadow of a formidable man has its challenges. I can relate. Although Ethan works very hard at keeping me out in the light.”

“He is doing an excellent job of it too. I’ve heard the buzz about town of your new firm and Ethan’s name has never been mentioned. Congrats by the way. It’s about time two young, talented women rattled some cages and made the establishment take notice.”

“You mean the good ol’ boys club?”

“Yes, indeed,” the judge said with a huff. “The culture of misogyny in the legal community has gone unchecked for entirely too long.”

“Amen to that. Most successful men owe thanks to the hard working women who helped get them there. Like me, until recently,” Lanie added, thinking of WW&S. “And in my case, receiving very little praise and much less reward.”

“I can relate. I was a junior associate working for a bunch of pricks once, too.”

Surprised, Lanie gaped at the usually reserved woman’s language. She in turn laughed at her reaction. “Look in the mirror, dear. Your expression is priceless.” The older woman put her arm around Lanie and gave her a squeeze. “I’m like everyone else beneath my robes. I put my panties on one leg at a time.”

Gasping with wonder, Lanie exclaimed. “That’s what Ethan said earlier about your husband.”

“Professor Fischer was talking about my husband putting on panties? Will wonders never cease?”

“Oh! No… I didn’t mean—” Lanie stammered.

“I’m teasing, dear,” she winked. “Besides, the chief justice wouldn’t wear my panties, too constricting under a robe. He’s a boxers kind of man.”

Lanie’s face ignited, burning furiously at the outrageous announcement. How had this innocent conversation gone so astray. Although an attractive older woman, Victoria was close to sixty if she was a day and her husband was at least five years her senior. What they wore beneath their robes fell into the TMI category in her opinion, and she preferred to remain blissfully ignorant. She decided it was best to remain silent than risk inserting her foot farther into her mouth.

“You’re the complete opposite of who you are in court, if you don’t mind my saying so,” Victoria said.

If she did mind, it was too late to say, so Lanie said nothing.

Victoria continued, thoughtfully, “I always thought you were cold and detached. Not that there is anything wrong with that, especially during a murder trial of that magnitude. But to spend time after hours with someone like that, well… I have to admit I’m relieved. I thought dinner would be a long, frigid ordeal.”

It was Lanie’s turn to smile. “Not too excited about having dinner with the Ice Queen, were you?”

“You’ve heard that?”

“Honey, I’ve been called worse to my face, but usually out of earshot of the bench.” She grimaced, realizing she had just called a judge honey. “Excuse me, your honor, I didn’t mean to be so disrespectful.”

The judge waved that off as she demanded, “Who dared call you that to your face?” She sounded outraged on her behalf.

“Joel Simpson, the Assistant DA, for one, in addition to every prosecutor in his office. Even Cecily Blackwell.”

“That’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black,” she snorted. “I heard Cecily broke it off with her fiancé on a used napkin she taped to his door for all to see.”

“I heard that. It’s awful. I rather felt sorry for him the poor man.”

“Don’t. Her ex is a pig. He’s been telling frigid fiancé jokes around the office for months. Evidently, she was so cold that instead of a tube of lube, he kept a can of de-icer in the nightstand.”

Lanie snickered, she couldn’t help it. When she saw the judge trying to suppress her own amusement, her hand covering her mouth in an unsuccessful attempt to contain it, she lost it. They both did, laughter echoing off the tile until their eyes watered.

“I’m sorry. I recognize that women should stick together and if any of my feminist friends heard me repeat that, I’d be drummed out of N.O.W., and though I shouldn’t perpetuate frigid women jokes, you gotta admit, knowing Cecily, that one is damn funny.”

“It makes me wonder how many similar ones they’re telling about me.” As Lanie put that thought into words, her laughter faded and was replaced with a small frown.

“Plenty, I’m sure because you kick their asses continually and threaten their manhood, like Cecily. I read somewhere you need five distinct character traits to be a good trial lawyer—plausibility, inquisitiveness, imagination, a considerable amount of arrogance, and a healthy dose of swagger. The challenge for us women is to pull all of them off without being subjected to the double standard. If a man shows these traits in court, he’s considered a success and labeled a badass, but if a woman acts the same way, she’s a heartless, cocky bitch. I see it every day in the halls outside my courtroom. Take the job you did in the Deever’s case, for example, you were all of those things and more. You made the plaintiffs’ attorneys look like fumbling imbeciles by comparison. It was a legal masterpiece, Lanie, which for a fifth year attorney is very impressive and everyone knows it, especially opposing counsel.

“Fourth year.”

She grinned. “Even better.”

“That case took a toll and really challenged my ethics. I’m just relieved he was convicted of a capital crime in the great state of Texas, and that he’ll pay for it with his life rather than preying on more innocent women. It tore me up inside to have to defend him.”

“You can’t let it get to you, Lanie. In our judicial system a lowlife snake has a right to a defense like anyone else.”

Lanie tilted her head and considered the judge who once again echoed Ethan’s words. “Are you related to my husband by chance?”

“He’s given you the same lecture, eh? Nothing any seasoned attorney couldn’t tell you, honey. We’ve all been through it.”

“I’m sure. But maybe if I hadn’t been quite so efficient, he would have been convicted here.”

“Giving a client a subpar defense wouldn’t challenge your ethics?” The judge paused, but didn’t seem to expect an answer. She was very perceptive. “So, is the Deevers case the reason you left WW&S?”

“Partly. It was also because I got tired of working for pricks.”

“Touché.” This she said as her lips tipped up into a huge grin. “You know what the joke is in the community for that acronym, don’t you?”

“I don’t believe I do.”

“Wanker, Weiner, & Schlong.”

Lanie cracked up. It was perfect, although the last one for Simons was being overly generous she was certain. “How did I work there for four years and not hear that?” She eyed the judge reflectively, noting that her wit and wisdom, combined with Ethan’s earlier attentions had definitely improved her mood. “You’re very easy to talk to, your honor, I feel like I’ve known you forever just from this little chat in the ladies room.”

“Call me Vicki, please, and I feel the same way. But we’ve gabbed for a good while. I suppose we should go find our men.”

“I’m surprised Ethan hasn’t sent out a search party already. He worries.” As she leaned toward the mirror to touch up the color on her lips, the hostess came walking in as if on cue.

“Mrs. Fischer?” she called, her eyes landing on Lanie. “I’m sorry, but your husband asked me to check. He was afraid you were ill.”

Lanie’s eyes flew to Vicki’s reflection. “See what I mean?”

Lanie told the hostess to assure Ethan she was fine and would be right out. When she left, Vicki said, “I think it’s sweet. A lot of husband’s wouldn’t care or would be put out by the wait.”

“Not mine.” She countered, shaking her head. “Don’t you dare tell him this, but I think it’s sweet too. I like that he is protective.”

“Ray is the same way. My health and safety are two subjects that he seems to think are his domain, which I give him freely because he stays out of my career. The rest—money, friends, spoiling grandchildren, and so many other important decisions like hair color—are solely up to me.”

Lanie’s eyes automatically traveled to her auburn hair, which she wore in a chin length bob. The judge was still a very attractive woman. Lanie hoped she looked half as good at her age.

“Ray’s a little old fashioned in certain ways, but I love the old coot all the same.”

Lanie’s mind flashed on an image of Victoria over her husband’s knee with her judicial robes lifted out of the way.
Good grief! What a thought.
The woman was probably referring to opening car doors and pulling out her chairs, not spanking. Mentally shaking herself, she tried to pick up the thread of their conversation.

“Are you all right, Lanie? You’ve got an odd look on your face.”

With color creeping into her cheeks, she turned back to the mirror, clearing her throat before answering. “I’m fine, and anxious to meet Ray; he sounds a lot like my Ethan.”

“He should. Ray was Ethan’s first boss. He took him under his wing and taught him to be a brilliant attorney.”

“That explains a lot.”

“The panties, right?” Vicki asked, tongue in cheek.

“What?” Lanie practically squealed, her head whipping around up in surprise, until she saw her new friend’s sly smile. “Oh, you are bad! I’m going to like you.”

“I hope so. We have a lot in common. Mostly having to act so serious and above board forty-plus hours a week. I need a young friend who likes to cut loose every now and again, someone I can mentor, but can also keep me on my toes.”

“I am all yours then, dear Vicki,” Lanie said with a dramatic flair. “I’m young, teachable, pliable like clay… Mold me, oh wise one.”

“I can hardly wait to get started.” Vicki hooted with glee. Arm in arm they found their husbands, both women smiling over the new bond of friendship they had formed outside the stalls in the ladies room at the Top of the Hub, of all places.

Chapter Eight

After only a few months, Lanie and Beth’s small practice was flourishing. The idea of women representing women had caught on. At least three-fourths of their current caseload was comprised of clients of the female persuasion. Between Lanie’s criminal law proficiency and Beth’s business law expertise, they took almost all referrals, except for divorce cases, handing those off to another independent attorney—also a woman—whose office was a few doors down.

Lanie still crunched numbers and tracked the cash flow closely, but at last, accounts receivable were outpacing expenses so she was able to rest a lot easier. Ironically, their first check for services had arrived the day after Ethan delivered Lanie’s much needed lesson in the elevator. Business was booming and as the phone rang near constantly, it seemed that the Deevers’ conviction in Texas, which made national headlines, had diminished the furor over his Massachusetts acquittal and Lanie’s role in the proceedings. In fact, most of her new clients came specifically seeking representation by the Ice Queen. In a short time, her reputation for skillfully and successfully defending the underprivileged or disenfranchised had become widely known. Although she didn’t want that to be the bread and butter of her practice, she had a hard time turning away clients. As a result, her schedule was often overbooked and she was having difficulty keeping pace with the influx of new clients and referrals.

Lanie and Beth became closer as they worked together to build their new practice. The two couples had grown closer as well. They went out often; to dinner, the theater and sailing in the harbor or in Dorchester Bay on the Anderson’s catamaran. They also expanded their circle of close friends to include the Studors since the three couples had so much in common.

Because of their hectic schedules, with numerous court dates and countless consultations, the new partners didn’t see each other much during work hours. Therefore, they made a point to get together for social time often and included Victoria whenever possible. They took time for coffee whenever possible, or shopping if they had a free afternoon, and since free time, let alone lunch, wasn’t always possible during the day, they started a once a month girl’s night out. Most often it was nothing more than dinner and a chick flick, but occasionally, they got a bit more adventurous and would have drinks at a club with live music, or take in a concert. The husbands didn’t seem to mind since it let them off the hook for bands they considered bubblegum music or in other genres not exactly to their taste. Like recently when One Republic and Christina Perry had played for one night at the Blue Hills Bank Pavilion downtown, Lanie had pounced on tickets.

A classic rock junky, Ethan had been relieved she had someone else to go with, saying simply, “You three have fun. Call me when Metallica or AC/DC come to town.”

It didn’t escape anyone’s notice how amazing it was that three women, from three different generations got along so well, liking many of the same things; art, theater, and the same kind of music.

On a more personal level, Lanie’s stress had greatly diminished, which she attributed to several factors, a wonderful marriage to a passionate man, shorter work hours, which meant more time with said passionate man, a solid group of friends and a new sense of freedom from becoming her own boss. There was also another contributing factor and she would be remiss if she left it off her list. Last, but certainly not least, was the switch to the Ethan Fischer method of stress management. That’s how Lanie referred to it. And, it worked so well, she often suggested that he and Steven should team up and write a how-to book for other stressed out couples.