Read Jack with a Twist for Free Online

coffee is beginning to hurt my legs. Is that the smell of burning flesh?
    As Monique fills me in on the background of her business with her husband, I try to take notes even though all I can think is: That blue good luck ribbon that she sews into every dress must not really work.
    Twenty minutes later, we wrap up our meeting and I’ve officially secured my first client. I hope that when I stand up from my desk, Monique won’t notice the huge puddle of coffee that has gathered in my lap and is now dripping all the way down to my ankles.
    “I cannot thank you enough, Brooke,” Monique says as we walk out of my office, me brushing off my skirt and dripping brown liquid all over the carpet, “and of course, your discretion in this matter is very much appreciated.”
    “Think nothing of it,” I say, hoping she doesn’t draw me in for a hug. The ivory-colored pants she’s wearing are no match for my coffee-infused skirt. And it would be a shame to lose a potential client over a dry-cleaning emergency.
    “Thank you,” she says.
    “There is just one more thing, Monique,” I say, as I walk her to the elevator banks. I’m rubbing my legs together to evaporate the coffee that’s dripping down them, my hand placed over the spot on my skirt where it’s all spilled, “and, I mean, this is just strictly business. I mean, this is something that the partners would want to know, you know, inasmuch as it may relate to your case.”
    “But, of course, Brooke,” Monique says, “whatever you need to know.”
    “You’re still going to design my wedding dress, right?”
     
     
    “And the best part is,” I tell Noah Goldberg, one of the founding members of the firm and the “G” in the SGR, “she’s still designing my dress!”
    “Well, she can’t design your dress if you’re representing her,” Noah says with a laugh.
    She can’t? Why can’t she? Should I have consulted the rules of ethics before I came into this meeting? Surely there’s some provision about associates and their wedding dresses? “But, I am thrilled for you. Your first case!”
    My wedding dress, is all I can think. I love that dress more than anything in the world. More than the French love Jerry Lewis. More than the Germans love David Hasselhoff. I manage to eke out: “My first case!”
    “I’m really excited for you, Brooke,” Noah says, “you remind me of myself when I got my first big case.” It’s never a good sign when a partner, founding or otherwise, tells you that you remind him of him. That can only mean one thing—you’re about to be slammed with more work than you ever thought possible. “And I think you’re ready.”
    “For what?” I ask. More traumatic trips to wedding boutiques with my mother? I know that Noah sees me as a big-time lawyer who can handle anything, but I am so not ready for that.
    “To take the lead on this case.”
    “What an honor,” I say. “What a thrill! Who will be working with me on it?” I’m secretly hoping that he’ll say that Esther can work on the case with me, but I don’t want to sound as if I don’t appreciate the opportunity. I will just act thrilled and enthused no matter what associate he tells me he’s going to assign to this case. There are five different first years that I’d be happy to work with—Jordan, Ethan, Spencer, Oliver and Ruby are all great, and there are four other second years that wouldn’t be bad, either—Stacey, Jon, Jen or Lee have great reputations, too. Maybe I’ll even get two junior associates to work with! And I won’t complain or say a word if one of them’s not Esther.
    “I don’t know if you need any more manpower on the case just yet,” he says. “Let’s start off by staffing it lean and mean and take it from there, okay?”
    Um, that is so not okay.
    “Okay,” I say, trying to hide the look of horror that is no doubt crossing my face at this very instant. At my old law firm, Gilson, Hecht, such a case—a complicated commercial