Dead After Dark by Sherrilyn Kenyon, Dianna Love, J. R. Ward, Susan Squires Page B

meeting with their lawyer for five o’clock on the Friday of Labor Day weekend?”
    “Client’s always right. And sadistic is in the eye of the beholder.” Claire packed up the will in a document case then grabbed her Birkin bag. As she looked around her spacious office, she tried to think of the work she planned to do over the weekend. “What am I forgetting?”
    “Pill.”
    “Right, right.” Claire used what was left in her mug to polish off the prescription she’d been working her way through for the last ten days. As she pitched the orange bottle in the wastepaper basket, she realized she hadn’t sneezed or coughed since Sunday. Stuff had worked evidently.
    Damn airplanes. Germ pools with wings.
    “Walk with me.” Claire gave a couple more marching orders on the way to the elevator, all the while waving to some of the two hundred-odd attorneys and support staff that worked at Williams, Nance & Stroughton. Martha kept pace with her in spite of the load of paper in her arms, but then that was what was great about the woman. No matter what, she was always there.
    At the bank of elevators, Claire punched the down button. “Okay, I think that’s it. Hope you have a good weekend.”
    “You, too. Try and take a break, would you?”
    Claire stepped into the mahogany-paneled lift. “Can’t. We have Technitron on Tuesday. I’m going to spend most of my weekend here.”
    Four minutes later she was in her Mercedes inching forward in the Manhattan traffic, trying to get out of thecity. Eleven minutes after that she was being patched into London.
    The conference call lasted fifty-three minutes and it was a good thing she was basically in a parking lot because the virtual meeting didn’t go well. Which was pretty common. Mergers and acquisitions of billion-dollar companies were never easy and not for the faint of heart. Her father had taught her that.
    Still, it was a relief to hang up and just focus on driving. Caldwell, New York, was probably only a hundred miles from downtown, but Martha was right. Traffic was a bitch. Apparently everyone and their uncle was trying to peel out of the Big Apple and they were all using the same route as Claire.
    Normally, she wouldn’t be taking the time to drive to see a client in a private home, but Miss Leeds was a special case for a lot of reasons and it wasn’t like the woman could come down to the office easily. She was what? Ninety-one now?
    Christ, maybe she was even older. Claire’s father had been the woman’s lawyer forever and after he’d died two years ago, Claire had inherited Miss Leeds along with his equity in the family firm. When she’d taken his seat at the partners’ table, she became the first female in the history of Williams, Nance & Stroughton to park it in the boardroom, but she’d earned that right, in spite of what Walter Stroughton’s will said. She was a fantastic M&A lawyer. Second to very, very few.
    Miss Leeds was her only trusts and estates client, which had been the same for Claire’s father. The elderly woman was worth close to two hundred million dollars, thanks to her family’s interests in a variety of companies, all of which were represented by WN&S. These holdings were the heart of the relationship. Miss Leeds believed in sticking with what she knew and her family had been with the firm sinceits inception in 1911. So there you had it. An M&A rock star doing T&E for an NHC.
    Or in human speak: a mergers and acquisitions specialist doing trusts and estates work for a nursing home candidate.
    Believe it or not, the interaction algebra added up. The will and the trusts in it were fairly straightforward once you got familiar with them and Miss Leeds was easygoing compared to most of Claire’s corporate clients. The woman was also good for business when it came to that will of hers. She approached revisions of it the way some people got into gardening, and at $650 an hour for Claire’s time, the billable hours added up. Miss Leeds was