An Imperfect Process Read Online Free PDF

partners that they were right, and I'm just not their kind, but there it is. I'll start organizing my work for others to take over."
    He steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "If you're opening an office here in Baltimore, would you be interested in a continuing relationship with us? We often contract some of the smaller cases out, plus there will be occasions when we'll have larger cases that would benefit from your unique touch."
    The prospect of self-employment gave Val a sudden, keen interest in cash flow. "Call away. It's generous of you to be willing to maintain a relationship."
    "Generous, hell," he said dryly. "You're the best litigator in the city, Val. I'd rather have you on my side than in opposition."
    "I'll miss you, Donald," she said honestly. "But not the daily grind here."
    "It takes courage to walk away. There were times when I was tempted, but..." He gestured toward the family portraits on his shining mahogany desk. "Too many responsibilities, and too used to living well."
    His admission surprised her. She had thought him perfectly suited to the career he had chosen. But how much did one ever know about someone else's inner life?
    After she and Donald discussed timing, finances, and other exit details, she returned to her office, making mental lists of all that must be done. The phone was ringing as she passed Kendra's door. "If that's my father, I'll take it in my office."
    Kendra picked up the phone and greeted the caller, raising her brows in a how-did-you-know-that expression.
    Wryly Val closed the door and sat at her desk to take the call. This prediction had been easy. If her father was available, he would call as soon as his old friend Donald let him know that Val was quitting.
    Not bothering with a greeting, Bradford Westerfield III barked, "For God's sake, Val, what's this nonsense I hear about you leaving Crouse, Resnick?"
    "Not nonsense, Brad," she said calmly. "I've had enough of life in a big law firm, and I'm ready to go."
    "You're insane to throw away all you've achieved so far. And just after you made partner! That's more than insane, that's... that's perverse ."
    As he proceeded in that vein, Val half tuned him out. Ironic that he was talking about her professional successes only when she was leaving. She supposed that he loved her in his fashion, but nonetheless, she was an embarrassment—the illegitimate daughter he'd sired during his one youthful dabble in rebellion. She would never be tall, slim, blond, or legitimate.
    He sighed with exasperation. "You're not listening to a word I'm saying."
    "I could quote your last few sentences, but if what you mean is that nothing you say will change my mind, you're right. The decision is made." She smiled wickedly. "What if I say that I can make more money on my own? Would that make a difference?"
    His voice changed. "Are you going to handle class-action suits like the ones over asbestos and tobacco? There's huge amounts of money to be made there, and you'd be good at it."
    "No class-action suits, at least not yet. I've just taken on my first new case—to try to get a convicted cop killer off death row. I won't make a penny off this even if I'm successful—which I probably won't be."
    He snorted, recognizing that he was being baited. "You're your mother's daughter, Val."
    The statement was not meant as a compliment. Val's mother, Callie Covington, was an aging hippie who lived her principles and disdained practicality. Occasionally she made Val nuts, but she was real and admirable, and she, at least, would approve that her only daughter was kicking over the traces of the establishment. "Callie will probably buy me a bottle of cheap California champagne to celebrate."
    Her father unexpectedly laughed. "She would. Very well, if you're bound and determined to practice do-gooder law, I'm sure you'll do it well. But when you decide you want to return to a real firm, come to New York and work for me."
    "Brad, that's probably the nicest thing you've ever