The Wedding Party by Robyn Carr Page A

Omagi custody. I doubt I’ll get home before ten. I’m due in court in an hour. Child Protective Services continue to harangue Leslie and Tom Batten, and I’ve filed an injunction to hold them off until we can have a hearing. Then I have a lunch and a meeting with Carl Dena regarding the transfer of one of his companies into his son’s name, since his son’s been managing it for about ten years anyway. Can you see to these items, please?” She passed a neatly printed list to Pam. “And will you please add one item?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œI ran into Jake last night. He wanted a favor, but we got sidetracked talking about Stephanie and he forgot to ask me. Will you give him a call? Ask him what he needs?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œAnd if it sounds like too much trouble, tell him you can’t fit it on my calendar. I’ve already done plenty for him and I don’t—”
    â€œHe probably just wants some simple legal thing for free, like a paper filed for a friend,” Pam said as she scribbled, not even looking up from her notebook. “If so, I can probably get it done without even bothering you.”
    â€œYour discretion,” Charlene said dismissively. “I’ve got less than an hour to go over my notes for court, so let’s get to work.”
    â€œGotcha. Coffee?”
    â€œHey, that would be great. I forgot to grab some as I passed the pot.”
    â€œYou have a lot on your mind. By the way, will you be living in your house or Dennis’s?”
    Charlene responded with a blank stare, her mouth slightly open. How could that have not even come up in the conversation that followed “Do you still want to get married?” “Um, my house, of course,” she said to Pam unconvincingly.
    â€œYou didn’t even talk about it, did you?”
    â€œYou know, we talked about so many things….”
    â€œOh brother,” Pam said, heading for the coffeepot.
    One of the things Pam London appreciated about working for Charlene Dugan was the quality of the work environment and the high measure of independence and responsibility Pam was afforded. She was an experienced paralegal, an executive assistant, and passed off secretarial work to office clericals and legal research to law clerks. Pam had helped build Phelps, Dugan & Dodge; she’d been with Charlene for sixteen years, beginning in the early, lean years.
    Pam remembered with nostalgic fondness the old brick walk-up they started in, when they both were young and energetic, when Stephanie was just a bitty little thing with freckles. They couldn’t afford a secretary so Lois, who was about to retire, helped out with typing and filing in the evenings and on the weekends.
    They’d been through a lot since then, both professionally and personally. Pam had lost her mother to cancer and eventually moved back in with her father. She told herself she did it for him, but it was as much for herself. Meanwhile, Charlene finally moved out of her mother’s house. Together they built a strong reputation in the legal community. The work was challenging, the pay excellent, the people were of the highest caliber and her days flew by.
    Pam and Charlene were too busy to worry that they didn’t have dates. And now, against all odds, Charlene was actually getting married.
    It was 7:00 p.m. when the door to Charlene’s office opened and she came marching out, briefcase in one hand, sheaf of papers to drop on Pam’s desk in theother, coat over her shoulders. And a scowl on her face. “Last-minute change of venue,” she said. “I’m going to Bradley & Howe.”
    â€œWhen did this happen?” Pam asked.
    â€œAbout ten minutes ago, when I called to confirm our meeting here. It’s a sleazy trick. This guy is creating diversions, pretending the meeting was always scheduled for his office. What bullshit. I left a message for Sherry Omagi on her voice mail,