“That’s not the case,” he said. “I represented the guard’s grandson.”
“Which benefited you as much as him,” she pointed out.
He ignored her. “And even if I did only represent rich people, why would that be an issue? Are you like Judge Harrison? Automatically prejudiced against the rich because you’re jealous they have more than you do?”
She laughed.
“That’s it, huh? You don’t think rich people deserve justice, too?”
“I have nothing against rich people,” she assured him. “In fact, the person I love the most in the whole world is much richer than Byron Mueller.”
He tensed, and then he snorted. “Dopey Dwight? I doubt that.”
“I don’t love Dwight,” she said.
“Who do you love?” he asked.
“My father.” And with that, she swooped her briefcase off his desk, snapped it shut and stalked out of his office. It was clear that with as much as they had in common, their differences were too great to overcome.
