A Santangelo Story Read Online Free PDF

imposing man with a sharp Roman nose and a shock of crazy silver hair that stands on end; he kind of resembles a white Don King. He also has a penchant for light-colored Brioni suits, colorful shirts, and pointy-toed lizard shoes dyed in a variety of outrageous colors. Most people regard him as quite a character.
    Saunders, Fields, Simmons & Johnson is the name of the law firm I work for. I started out clerking for them while still in law school; and after I passed the bar, they hired me as an associate. Within three years, I was promoted to senior associate.
    I hate to sound immodest…well, not really! But I am good, very good, and I think that Mr. Shark Teeth loves me. Not as a woman, but as his right hand—a hand he knows he can always depend on. The man is a brilliant lawyer with a killer mind, so over the years I studiously ignored the whiter-than-white teeth, the out-of-control hair, and the overly expensive suits and learned everything I could from him. He is an excellent teacher and I’m a quick study, so it’s turned out aces for both of us. Soon I expect to be promoted to junior partner.
    I guess Josh is correct: I do put work first. And right now I have no reason not to.
    I consulted my watch—Cartier, a birthday present from Mr. Shark Teeth. Personally I’m not into labels, but other people seem to hold them in high regard, especially in Beverly Hills.
    “Two minutes hardly counts as late,” I said crisply.
    Felix Saunders raised a bushy eyebrow. “Always an argument,” he said, verging on irritable.
    “Facts are facts,” I responded.
    “The girl who always sees things in black and white,” he said dryly, tapping his chin with his slightly crooked index finger.
    “Nothing wrong with that, ” I countered. Getting in the last word is one of my habits that drives people crazy. I don’t give a crap, I enjoy having the last word. Besides, I don’t wish to sound immodest, but I’m usually right.
    “Follow me,” he said. “We have work to do.”
    I am considered a hotshot attorney because in the past eighteen months I have defended two high-profile men with great success. Client number one was a well-known studio executive accused of rape by a TV star whose career was on the downslide. The upcoming trial hit the front pages for months, culminating in a fast five days in court.
    The actress was not a popular woman; she’d portrayed a bitch on TV for several years. It wasn’t difficult for me to convince the jury that her role on TV came naturally to her, while also playing up the studio executive’s happy family angle. I pointed out that as far as he was concerned, the one night of sex was consensual, he loved his wife and family, and he deeply regretted the entire incident. Then I emphasized how much the actress needed—in fact craved —the headlines of her past stellar career. And how she’d gone after Mr. Big Studio Executive with a vengeance. “You saw the Beyoncé movie Obsessed ,” I stated dramatically in my closing argument, fixing the jurors with my wide hazel eyes, which I’ve been told can be quite hypnotic. “Then may I suggest that you consider this as the real-life version. Put yourselves in this man’s position.” A long pause for effect. “Yes, it’s true, my client cheated on his wife, but he’s never claimed to be a saint. And that’s all he did. One night of weakness with a seductive actress determined to get her career back on track. So…because of one lapse, and a fading actress who feels she’s been rejected, is this innocent man supposed to lose everything?” Another long, pregnant pause. More deep eye contact. “I don’t think so. Do you ?”
    The jury was sold.
    Result: a big victory.
    Everyone at the firm was more than pleased with the way I handled myself in court, and within six months I was handed another big newsworthy case. This time, it was a beloved comedian accused of exposing himself to children in public places. I painted him as squeaky clean.