“A plane ticket to New York has been overnighted to you. The flight leaves tomorrow afternoon.”
“Listen, mister…” Adam searched for the guy’s name.
“Howell,” the man said, much more respectful knowing that his ability to bill the estate might be coming under Adam’s scrutiny.
“Oh, yeah,” Adam said, picturing Gilligan’s Island. “I can’t just drop everything and go to New York,” even though he could. “What is this all about?”
“The reading of her will is Monday morning in my office. There’s also a video you’ll need to watch. Who is Jennifer Savin?”
“Why?”
“I have a plane ticket for her, too.”
“Is she in the will?”
“No,” he said firmly. “You’re the only one,” Howell said, as though he was talking to a little kid who asked, ‘Are we there yet?’ one too many times.
“Well, she won’t be joining us,” Adam asserted.
“If she does decide to join you here, let me know. Good day, Mr. Winter,” Howell said, not waiting to hear Adam’s response.
__________________________
Adam and his big screen TV were getting ready for date night. After all, it was Saturday. He had spent some time at the gym earlier in the day, and he’d met with Red and the band to plan the logistics for their upcoming tour of Duluth and Des Moines during the next couple of weekends. Other than that, it was just him, his big screen, and his satellite dish. It felt so great not spending the whole weekend writing a brief or preparing for trial. He hadn’t even worn underwear all day.
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