“I don’t want to talk about anything! You’re the one who came looking for me,” he reminded her crossly. “I didn’t invite you!”

“I was worried about you.”

“Well, don’t worry over me. I can take care of myself!” Mitch’s voice was bitter.

“Mitch, what in the world is going on?” she asked. Erin was stung by his acrid words, but compassion held back the sharp retort that had entered her mind as she watched Mitch order another drink. It was apparent that something was eating him, and because of the kindness he had shown her in the past, she held her tongue. She reached for his sleeve and in a quieter voice asked, “Won’t you please tell me what’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” The word ricocheted back at her followed by Mitch’s mirthless laugh. “What could possibly be wrong?” His blue eyes glittered like ice. “Unless, of course, you think that being fired from a bank that you’ve given twenty years of your life to is a problem.”

The meaning of his words struck her like an arctic blast. “Fired? Webster fired you? But why?”

“Like I said, ask him—if you’ve still got a job. Who knows, you could be next!”

“But he hasn’t even come up from California yet.”

“Oh, he’s here all right, and mark my words, all of the employees at First Puget—oh, excuse me—Consolidated First Bank better be ready!” he pointed out sarcastically.

Erin sat for a moment in numbed silence. The thought of Mitch being fired was absurd, ludicrous. Mitch had been prominent in building the legal department of First Puget to one of the most prestigious in the city. It was true that for the first time in over a decade the legal department had lost money, but certainly the new president wouldn’t hold Mitch solely responsible, would he? Nothing made any sense to her anymore. Mitch caught the look of confusion and pity in her eyes. His attitude softened momentarily.

“Look, Erin. Don’t waste your sympathy on me. And it’s really not a good idea for you to be seen with me. Believe me, it would be in your best interests to just leave me alone.”

“You look like you could use a friend,” Erin suggested.

“What I need now is a good attorney, not a friend.”

“But you are an attorney,” Erin replied, still completely perplexed.

Mitch looked her squarely in the eyes. “I’m a lawyer, yes, but I specialize in civil law. What I need now is a criminal lawyer.”

“I don’t understand….”

“You don’t have to,” Mitch answered abruptly and stood up. “I told you before, I don’t need your sympathy or any of your self-righteous friendship!” He turned his back on Erin, fumbled in his pocket for a moment and threw a wad of crumpled bills onto the bar. “See ya around,” he called over his shoulder, but Erin didn’t think he directed his words at her.

“Mitch…wait,” she began, but his long uneven strides carried him out of the door and into the night. As she watched him leave she was still recovering from the shock of his dismissal. Why would he have been fired? It was hard to believe that she wouldn’t see him on Monday morning, sitting behind his large oak desk, puffing on a slim cigar and perusing The Wall Street Journal.