Protect and Defend Read Online Free PDF

Then she’d have found a way.
    “It isn’t fair,” Sarah said. “I know that.”
    Turning away, the girl shuddered, inconsolable. “I guess court’s the only hope …”
    Sarah drew a breath. “It would be a big case, Mary Ann. I’m just an associate. I can’t take any case—let alone for free—without asking the partners’ permission.”
    The girl looked up at her. “Then
ask
them. Please.”
    Abruptly, Sarah realized how many of her cautions for Mary Ann also applied to herself. And, as quickly, felt a defiant surge of the ego and independence which, in a conservative and hierarchical law firm, she often struggled to suppress.
    “At least,” Sarah temporized, “I can make some calls. Maybe find someone else.”
    The girl’s face closed, as if at a betrayal. “Whatever.”
    She was on the edge, Sarah told herself. And she was fifteen: by definition—even before this trauma—unstable, uncertain, untrustworthy, and self-involved. As Sarah remembered all too well.
    “Mary Ann,” she said succinctly, “we’re talking about a lawsuit which could end up in the United States Supreme Court. ‘Whatever’ doesn’t get it.”
    Chastened, the girl touched her eyes. “I’m sorry …”
    Now Sarah, too, felt helpless. At length, she said, “Tell me how I can reach you.”
    Despairingly, the girl shook her head. “You can’t. After I got pregnant, my mother took the phone out of my room.”
    God, Sarah thought. Slowly, she absorbed the full weight of this girl’s youth and isolation, and the responsibility this could impose on Sarah. “I’m not saying I’ll be your lawyer. But you can call
me
tomorrow, all right? From school.”
    Mary Ann faced her, tears welling again—as much, Sarah guessed, from exhaustion as from hope. Sarah wondered what would happen if she turned this girl away.

SEVEN
     
    T HERE WERE STILL times, Chad Palmer reflected, when he loved his wife so much it hurt.
    She examined herself critically in the mirror of the bedroom, blond head slightly tilted. For Chad, the familiar gesture resonated with the moments of their life together, a hall of mirrors in which Allie’s face appeared reflected: the wonder of new intimacy; the image he held fast to in captivity; the surprise of being restored to her again; the nearly eighteen years of evenings since when, with wry resignation, Allie Palmer had appraised the lines which, almost imperceptibly, marked the passage of time. When Chad first met her she had been pretty—pert, blue-eyed, her face lit by good humor, her body slender—but now, twenty-eight years later, he thought her beautiful. The trim figure remained; what time had broughtto her face was wisdom, resolve, and, painful to Chad, a certain sadness. But when she saw his reflection watching her, a faint smile appeared.
    “Why do you do that, Chad? Watch me?”
    Moving closer, he kissed her on the nape of her neck. “Because you’re lovely. And because you’ve forgotten I’m here.”
    “M-m-m,” she said, a sound somewhere between pleased and self-critical. “If I could only forget I’m forty-six.”
    “Why forget?” Chad said, and moved his hands to her hips.
    “Too late. The ball’s in an hour, and I’m all made up. For once my hair’s doing what it’s supposed to.”
    The familiarity of this complaint made Chad smile again. “The hell with your coiffure,” he said. “You’re living with a man certified by
George
magazine as the decade’s sexiest senator.”
    “That was the
last
decade. But at least you’re not resting on your laurels.” Turning, Allie kissed him on the cheek. “Need help with your tie?”
    “As usual. I’ve given up on the damned thing.”
    Crossing the room, Allie fished a clip-on tuxedo tie from the bureau and slipped it around the collar of Chad’s shirt. With great concentration, she arranged it into perfect position. This moment, too, echoed in Chad’s mind: when he had returned to her, altered in body and spirit, she had