Capitol Offense Read Online Free PDF Page B

fund.”
    “Lawyers got along fine without the billable hour until the nineteen-fifties. They will again. Many corporations are refusing to pay them, demanding flat fees. Consequently, the smart up-and-coming firms are giving them what they want and stealing business from the old guard. Pretty soon—”
    “We’ll all live in Cloud-Cuckoo-Land and eat bonbons all day! Honestly, Ben, when are you going to get a clue?”
    Ben assaulted Jones with his deadliest weapon, the raised eyebrow. “I think the firm is doing just fine. We charge a fair fee without milking clients with billable hour charts. We make ourselves affordable to those who need help.”
    “Oh, I give up!” Jones said, throwing his arms into the air. He marched back to his desk, the usual exasperated expression on his face.
    Ben stared at his wake. “He seems upset.”
    “Yeah,” Loving agreed, “but he’s happier that way.”
    “Think I’ve heard the last of this?”
    “Sure. Till tomorrow.”
    “Ben,” Christina said, tapping him on the shoulder, “Harvey wants to talk to you about the campaign.”
    “Ugh. Can’t I just be a lawyer for a little while?”
    “For a very little while, yes. But he has to start making plans.”
    “Have him do that. And send me a memo.”
    “Also, there’s a client waiting for you in your office.”
    “More Legal Services referrals?”
    “No. This guy has a little money.”
    “How refreshing. Know what he wants?”
    “Nary a clue.”
    “Well, life is either a great adventure or it is nothing at all. Want to sit in?”
    “No, I think the distinguished senator from Oklahoma should meet clients on his own. Besides, I have an appointment to see my personal shopper.”
    Ben blinked. “You have a personal shopper?”
    Christina took his arm and rubbed her nose against his cheek. “Just since I married you, my little sugar daddy.”
    Loving bristled. “I’m so outta here …”
    “Why do you need a personal shopper?” Ben asked.
    “Because I’m a busy important lawyer woman. Besides …” She grinned. “You think I could pick out clothes like these on my own?”
     
     
    Ben peered through the window in his office door, stealing a look at the client before the client saw him. His first impression was favorable; the man was not wearing orange coveralls. In fact, he was well dressed and groomed neatly and seemed like a perfectly normal urban professional, the sort you saw hustling about downtown all around Bartlett Square, even now that they had removed the fountain and allowed traffic to drive through it. Ben got the impression that he was smart and educated, which would be a refreshing change of pace.
    Too bad Christina hadn’t come in—she was always so good at sizing people up. Then again, he had been practicing law for—how many years now? He was not without intuition. Perhaps he had become too dependent on her. Perhaps it was time he flexed his own muscles …
    The man sitting in his office had an air of confidence about him, which suggested that he was not here on a criminal matter. Some sort of business affair. Judging from his dress, his briefcase, and especially his shoes, Ben surmised that he owned his own business. He was wearing glasses and had two pens in his shirt pocket. No pocket protector, but still, he screamed computer industry. A software company, probably. That was the avenue many young go-getters had traveled to recent success. So what was his problem?
    If he wasn’t in trouble, it must be an employee. Contract dispute? Sexual harassment? No, Ben had it—immigration law. Not long ago, Oklahoma’s extremely conservative legislature had passed the strictest immigration laws in the country, much to the dismay of most local businesses. Thanks to 1804, as the law was called familiarly, it was a felony to transport or shelter illegal immigrants. Employers could have their business licenses revoked for hiring illegal immigrants, even if they subsequently became legal to work. They