Wendy rolled her eyes. “I just think you should take a little more pride in your appearance. You’re a cute girl, Drue, or you would be if you’d ever put on some makeup and fix your hair.”

Drue sat at the reception desk. “I’m not auditioning for The Bachelorette, you know. And since I’ve never heard you take issue with anything the guys wear to work, I consider your remarks about my personal appearance to be sexual discrimination. Possibly harassment too.”

“Whatever. Just sit here, okay? You can still take whatever calls are routed to you, and use Geoff’s desktop. If we get any walk-ins, just run through the intake forms, same as you do on the Justice Line. Sign for any package deliveries. Got it?”

“I guess.”

“You can call me if there’s anything urgent, but things should be fairly quiet,” Wendy said.

The morning was largely a bust. The Justice Line was humming, but none of the calls yielded a single signed-up case. Drue sighed. The week was shaping up to be a big fat zero. She ate lunch at her desk: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, carrot sticks and a bag of green grapes.

The office door chimed softly and a burly African-American woman marched directly up to the reception desk. She was dressed in mauve-colored cotton scrubs. Her graying hair was cut close to the scalp. A young girl of eight or nine peeped out from behind her bulk. She wore pink eyeglasses held together with what looked like a paper clip, pink shorts and a T-shirt that featured a sequined pastel porpoise.

“I’m here to see Brice Campbell,” she announced in an overly loud voice.

Drue gave the visitor her best smile. “I’m afraid Mr. Campbell is in court this morning.”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” the woman said, wagging a finger in Drue’s face. “That’s what that woman on the phone been telling me for weeks now. He’s all the time in court. I have called and left messages, and nobody ever calls me back. So I’m here right now, and I’m not leaving until I see that man.” She planted her feet on the plush carpet and crossed meaty arms over her bosom. The little girl gripped the fabric of the woman’s pants tightly in one hand, and twirled one of the dozen pink-rubber-banded cornrows that cascaded to her shoulders.

“Uh, okay.” Drue picked up a pen. “Could you tell me your name and what case this is in reference to?”