Even though Mina hated her uncle, his words made her smile. Once she’d put in her dues, she’d slowly edge out her uncles. Then she’d take the firm to another level, one that would make her mother proud. Cases like a WTA takeover would be the norm for her.

As she showered, she dictated to her digital assistant and drafted emails to her legal assistant and paralegal. She needed to rearrange her schedule, which meant shifting two client calls and asking for an extra day to review a contract.

Mina slipped into a maroon suit dress with matching pumps and a coordinating Chanel bag. Because it took her an extra minute to pile her long hair on top of her head in a sleek updo, she had to call for a car to pick her up in front of her apartment building in Chelsea.

“Looking lovely today, Ms. Kohli,” George said as he opened the door for her. “Spring weather at its finest.”

“Thanks, George. I may have a meeting with a new client today.”

“Knock ’em dead.”

“I always do.”

The car was already waiting at the curb, and in a practiced move, she folded herself into the back seat and answered emails for the entire drive to Park and 40th.

The lights were on in the building when she scanned her badge and stepped through the glass doors and into the offices for Kohli and Associates. She loved the rows of redwells stacked on top of the filing cabinets that hardly anyone used anymore, the desks for the paralegals and assistances crammed with paper, discarded coffee cups, and personal items. Most of all, she loved that her floor was high enough to get a view of the East River along one row of windows. Sometimes when she was going for a run or binging on movies at her condo, she’d imagine this exact view was spread out in front of her.

“Mina?” her uncle roared from his corner office.

She headed toward the sound, passing empty cubicles along the way. When she reached her uncle’s assistant’s desk, she paused to admire the woman typing away at the keyboard. Except for the circles under her eyes, Sangeeta was pressed and polished, as if it wasn’t five thirty in the morning.

“Good morning, Mina. He’s ready for you.”

“Why don’t you get some coffee, Sangeeta?”

“No, I’m okay.”

Mina pulled out her company card and handed it to her. “Get something for yourself. Pastry, too. And if you don’t mind, coffees for me and the dragon.”

She glanced at his office and then back to Mina. “I shouldn’t . . .”

“I’ll keep him busy. You look like you could use some fresh air. I think the cart downstairs just opened up.”

Sangeeta glanced one more time at Sanjeev’s open door before she quickly grabbed her small purse from a bottom drawer in her desk. “Thanks, Mina.”