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Unformatted text preview: Murray left, his step a bit quicker. He rode the elevator alone, his mind racing wildly. He'd tell her how he'd played hardball with the rascals, how he'd finally just had it up to here with their outrageous demands, how he had barged into the meeting and threatened a vicious trial unless they yielded and made concessions. He had tried many such cases, was in fact known to be quite a courtroom brawler. Damn the adultery charges! Damn the nudie pictures! His client was wrong but was still entitled to fairness. There was a poor innocent child to protect here! He'd tell her how they'd broken and run in full retreat. He had demanded a trust fund for the child, and Patrick had collapsed under the weight of his own guilt. Here, they insisted, take a quarter of a million dollars. And he'd fight like hell, fight them forever to protect the assets of his client, who had done nothing wrong by taking the two point five million. Out of fear, they had folded and scrambled to find a way to save Trudy's money. These details were murky at the moment, but he had an hour's worth of driving to work on the story. By the time he got to his office, it would be a magnificent victory. EYEBROWS WERE RAISED at the Concorde counter at JFK because she had no luggage. A supervisor was called and a huddle ensued as Eva fought to control her nerves. She couldn't take another arrest. She loved Patrick, but this was far above and beyond the call of romance. Not long ago she'd had a promising career as a lawyer in a city she loved. Then Patrick came along. Suddenly there were warm British smiles everywhere. She was directed to the Concorde lounge, where she had coffee and called Sandy's number in Biloxi. "Are you okay?" he asked when he heard her voice. "I'm fine, Sandy. I'm at JFK, en route to London. How's Patrick?" "Wonderful. We've cut the deal with the federal folks." "How much?" "A hundred and thirteen million," he replied, and waited to hear a response. Patrick had been...
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- Spring '10