“Then why not return to Jackson Rieders?”

“I always planned to,” I said. “But when the moment arrived, I’d realized something. All that time working exclusively for one client made me appreciate the value of maintaining that kind of single-mindedness. Never suffering any conflicts of interest or divided loyalties or competing priorities. In my time at Jackson Rieders, I worked on a hundred and forty different client files. Sometimes as many as twenty at a time, all vying for my wholehearted attention. It took some serious juggling to handle it all. In fact, I wrote a software program to help me prioritize my work, factoring in deadlines, time required for completion, relative importance of clients based on billings, and so on. I’d input all that data, and the program told me what I should work on first, second, and third.”

Barrett’s eyebrows went up. “Genius idea! Where do I sign up?”

“Sorry.” I smiled. “I wrote it on firm time, so it’s proprietary to Jackson Rieders. I hear they’re still using it today. My point is, working exclusively for Mr. Gibbons convinced me that I want to be all in for one client, and one client alone. A position in a corporate law department ticks every box for me. Intellectual challenge and undivided devotion.”

“That kind of loyalty is worth a lot around here,” he said. “We’re in the middle of a big lawsuit.”

“The Palmer case. Yes, I read about it. A shareholder’s derivative action like my Rand case.”

“Yes, and also brought by Mark Ivins. But this one really strikes close to home.”

“Because they’re challenging executive compensation. Of course. No one wants to be put in the position of justifying his own salary. It’s like having to blow your own horn.” I laughed. “Like in a job interview.”

He laughed with me, heartily, and slapped his knees as he rose from his chair. “Shay, sit tight a minute, would you? I have to make a call.”

He left the room, and for the next fifteen minutes, I was certain he was searching for his assistant to show me the door. I’d blown it with that interview joke. Or was it the Innocence Project? What corporation wants to hire a lawyer who’s done nothing but criminal law for the past five years? But it was right there on my résumé; they knew it before Barrett himself decided to meet me.

No, it must have been something I said or the way I looked. My suit wasn’t fashionable enough for this place; it wasn’t fashionable at all. My wardrobe used to be the height of fashion, before I sold it, back in the days when I thought I could stave off ruin if I could just raise enough cash for this month’s mortgage payment. Not that those clothes would have been fashionable anymore. They were all five years old or older.

A knock on the door. It was Marcia Post, Barrett’s assistant, here to escort me from the premises. “If you’d follow me, please?” she said. At least it wasn’t a stone-faced security guard this time.