“What’s he getting locked up for?”
“That can wait,” the driver of the Porsche convertible replies, a forty-something lawyer with a belly that screams he was not in need of the fancy lunch he just shelled out for, the type of meal I can no longer afford on my own dime.
“I mean if you’re asking me to represent this guy, I’d like to—“
“All in due time,” Lawyer Man says, squaring his hands at ten and two.
“After he’s vetted you. Made sure you’re the right fit,” Lawyer Man says, face tilted up to the sun as if life couldn’t get any better than this.
I plaster on a smile to keep things upbeat. “I mean, it can’t be that bad if he’s only getting time in the county jail. The really bad guys get prison. At least most of mine do.” Continue reading “Obrigado (or ‘thank you’ in Portuguese)”