“Are you sure?” he asked. “I’ve never met anybody who brought lunch in a thermos and drank it on the lift. Sure that’s not you?”

“It’s so definitely not me. Not skiing, anyway.” She sipped her hot chocolate.

“How’s the trial prep coming along?” he asked.

She carried her hot chocolate into the living room where she could see that he had been reading, if the bookmarked book on the table was any indication, and doing laundry. A pile of white folded laundry sat next to his bags from his ski weekend.

“I think it’s all under control, but I’m nervous about my cross.”

He placed some napkins on the coffee table and sat on the couch next to her, hot chocolate in hand.

He asked, “Have you practiced it? My dad used to practice with junior associates—and sometimes with my mom.”

“We’ve been so busy; I wasn’t sure I should ask a junior associate to practice with me.”

“Of course, you should. Your cross-examination is key to winning the case.”

“Thanks. That should help me sleep better at night.”

“I’ve got another solution to help you sleep better at night.” He rubbed her shoulders. “Yes, your muscles are tight.” He maneuvered onto his knees so he was in a better position to massage her shoulders. “Here, you can practice with me. I only know what I’ve read in the news about your case, but I can be the slimy investor plaintiff.” He leered at her in a mocking fashion and sat back across from her on the couch. “So, pretty lady, what do you want to know about me? I’m a simple man, you know, and your company recommended this fund. I put all my life savings into it. And then it dropped. Just dropped. How am I going to retire now?” Jake ended with a wail.

That wasn’t exactly the allegation, but more practice would be helpful. Two could play at this game.

“You seem like a smart man—you know that stocks are not a guaranteed investment and that they can fluctuate in value?” she asked.

“Yes, but my financial advisor from your company recommended Popflicks, and I relied on his advice. I didn’t expect it to drop.”

“And you didn’t put all your life savings into it, did you?”

“Well, maybe not all,” he said.

“You seem like a man who does his research before he buys something.”

“Yes, normally, but I don’t know anything about stocks.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Please show the witness Exhibit A.” She grabbed a napkin and presented it to him. “Isn’t this your research folder?”

“It does look like something I often write my research on,” he said with a straight face.

“And that is your handwriting?”

“Shucks, yes.”

“With all your notes on various stocks?” she asked.