Jill sounded less concerned than perplexed. “Didn’t they offer you a different job? You’re too good for them to let you walk.”

“They did offer me something.” It was a cut in pay. He would have had to surrender his junior partnership and accept a counselor position—in a dead-end department with no hope of advancement, opportunity, or challenge. It was less an offer of employment than a test to see how low he was willing to stoop. He’d walked instead. “It was not what I want. As a matter of fact, I would rather tend bar if I had to.” That was a stretch. As he rarely drank anything stronger than the occasional beer, he wouldn’t know the difference between a martini and a Manhattan.

“What are you saying? You could still be working there.”

“It was not a real offer, Jill. The job was a dead end. Worse.”

“What? Not up to your standards? You’re unemployed, Ted.”

“If you were to design a job that I would truly hate just to screw with me, this was worse. Trust me, Jill. I would have gone postal in no time.”

When she spoke again, she was less adamant and argumentative. “Why would they do that? I don’t understand. You’re a good lawyer. Can’t they always find room for a really good lawyer?”

“Actually, no. But someone thought long and hard before offering me something that I would never in a million years accept.”

“But why? I don’t get it?”

“Revenge. They could have cut me loose, and I would have walked away with a fat severance package and a year’s health insurance. As it is, I’ve got about three months’ savings and my IRA.”

“That’s not fair,” she said.

“There’s no such thing.” He had always believed that. For all his drive and hard work, the world owed him nothing. But he’d been targeted. Screwed.

“I’m going to speak to my father,” she said.

The thought of his ex-wife begging her daddy, a man whom Ted had never liked, respected, or felt any kinship with, to intercede for him was nauseating. He was a lawyer and desperately wanted the opportunity to practice again, but he was also a poor kid from the streets of Queens who’d made it out, and his pride was what had always carried him.

“Please don’t,” he said. “I’ll land on my feet. If I’m going to ask for help, I’ll do it myself, and it won’t be through your father.” Ted was already thinking of bypassing the father and asking for her grandfather’s help instead. Ted had earned the Judge’s assistance in the past, and there was no shame in seeking it now.

“No, Ted. It’s not right. I told him I wanted you taken care of. He said he would see to it.”