Free Wayward Son by Shae Connor Page B

process server gave you. We’ll go over it together, and I’ll get some copies made.” He paused. “Are you all right?”
    Mikey choked out a noise that could have been a laugh. “As much as you’d expect.”
    “Which is to say not really.” Mr. Day chuckled, but it was a warm sound, not derisive. “It’s a common reaction and completely understandable. But this doesn’t change anything, except it does start the clock on our response. We’re already ahead of the game there, though, so you’re in much better shape than most.”
    That was mildly reassuring at least. “Okay. So… I guess I’ll see you in an hour and a half?”
    “We’ll be ready. Take care, Mikey.”
    Mikey ended the call and stared at the papers sitting on the coffee table for long enough that his eyes burned. He forced himself to blink and then get up off the sofa and head for the bathroom. He needed to shower, dress, and probably eat something to go with the cup of coffee he’d been sipping, even though his stomach roiled at the thought of food.
    One step at a time. He shut himself in the bathroom, stripped off, and started the shower running.
     
     
    Q UINN MET Mikey at the front desk and ushered him into Charles Day’s office. “He’s just finishing up and will be with you in a minute,” Quinn said as Mikey sat in one of the leather armchairs facing Mr. Day’s desk. “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
    Mikey’s mouth felt like he’d been eating sawdust. “Water?”
    Quinn winked. “Coming right up.”
    Mikey leaned back in the seat and fought to keep from crumpling the papers in his hands as he’d been doing since he got out of the car in the parking lot. He wanted to clamp down on them, ball them up, compress them into nothing until they never existed.
    Fat lot of good that would do, even if it were possible.
    A couple of minutes later, Quinn was back with a bottle of water, Mr. Day on his heels.
    “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Mr. Day said as he sat behind his desk, even though Mikey had been in the building less than five minutes. He nodded at the papers in Mikey’s lap. “Let’s see what we have.”
    Mikey handed over the papers gladly, happy to have them out of his clutches for a while. Mr. Day slid on a pair of reading glasses and opened the sheaf, running his gaze down the page quickly. It took him only a few minutes to make his way to the end of the document. Mikey couldn’t imagine how he could read that quickly, much less the kind of legalese he knew it contained.
    Mr. Day set down the papers and took off his glasses to look at Mikey. “All right. This seems pretty straightforward. Quinn.” He held out the papers to his intern. “Please make three copies while I chat with Mikey. That way we’ll each have one while we go over the lawsuit, and the original can go into the file.”
    “Of course.” Quinn stood and took the papers before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
    Mr. Day gave Mikey a small smile. “I know this is overwhelming,” he said. “But the good news, from my initial quick read, is that the scope of the lawsuit appears to be small. The accusations are limited, and the amount being requested is lower than I would have expected. Lawsuits of this type often ask for exorbitant damages, expecting a settlement of a much smaller amount. The plaintiff, a Rhonda Donaldson, has requested only twenty-five thousand dollars in damages.” He glanced up at Mikey. “Do you know Rhonda Donaldson?”
    Mikey shook his head in response, but he was still stuck on the dollar amount. Only? That was still twenty-five thousand dollars more than he had. “Um,” he managed. “What would a larger amount be?”
    “Numbers in the millions aren’t unusual in cases like these.” The reply left Mikey half boggled and half relieved. “The relatively small damages amount should work in your favor,” Mr. Day continued. “It makes it appear that the plaintiff is seeking a quick settlement rather than a