Tawana pulled into the parking lot behind the Wallace, Jones and Johns suite of offices and walked the few steps from her car to the entrance. She rang the buzzer next to the tinted glass door and waited under the veranda for Emery Goodwin to usher her inside.
Because of the media coverage surrounding the Neal Lewis case, Ms. Goodwin had called Tawana on Sunday evening and instructed her to arrive at 7:00 a.m. instead of 9:00, and to be sure to come to the rear of the building. No reporters were in sight this early on a Monday, but that didn't mean they weren't lurking nearby.
Someone peeked out of the corner of the drapery and opened the door.
"Come in quickly."
Tawana entered and shook hands with Ms. Goodwin, who had sounded older on the phone than the late thirties or early forties she appeared to be.
"Please call me Emery," she said. "It's nice to meet you after having talked with you by telephone so many times. Welcome to Wallace, Jones and Johns. Two other summer associates should be here momentarily, and then I'll take the three of you in to meet the partners."
Brandon and Heather had rented units in the same apartment complex and were riding together this morning, Emery explained.
Ten minutes later, they joined Tawana and Emery in the firm's small cafeteria and introduced themselves.
"Brandon Robinson, Temple."
"Heather Sherman, Stanford."
Suddenly the shame from her overnight date with Grant came rushing back. She remembered how he had uttered her name with such disdain. Tawana. The two associates waited expectantly.
"I'm . . . T. Elise Carter. Harvard."
Emery looked at Tawana quizzically. "I've been calling you by the wrong name all this time?"
Tawana laughed nervously and shook her head.
"No, no. You've been using my legal first name, but my middle name is Elise and I typically go by that."
She shrank inside as she told the white lie. Elise was her middle name, but she had never really cared for it or felt the need to use it, before now.
Emery peered over her thick black glasses at Tawana but didn't share her thoughts. "Okay."
She ushered the law students into a large conference room, where the three partners for which the firm was named sat at the head of a massive mahogany table. Six full-time associate lawyers flanked their bosses. Each had been scribbling notes before Brandon, Heather, and Tawana entered.
Bob Wallace motioned for the new law clerks to join them at the twenty-seat table.
"Welcome aboard, ladies and gentleman."
His booming voice and the sweeping gesture he made with his hands reminded Tawana of a circus ringmaster. She, Heather, and Brandon looked at one another out of the corners of their eyes but tried to focus.
"I'm sure you've watched the news," he continued. "We are front and center in the city's most high-profile case of the summer. Neal Lewis is a bright young man with a bright future that. . . guess what?"
He raised his arms as if directing a choir.
"Rests in our hands," he said, finishing his thought. "That means all hands are on deck!"
He pointed to Tawana, Brandon, and Heather.
"That means you three are going to be in the trenches with the rest of the firm. You are on our team and you're going to learn how a blue-chip criminal defense firm wins its cases!"
Ken Jones stood and introduced himself next. In stark contrast to Bob Wallace's pomp and circumstance manner, he spoke slowly and deliberately.
"Welcome aboard," he said. "Bob's right. This is a small firm, but we do excellent work, and we do it by focusing as a team. Each of you were handpicked to work here this summer. That means you're up to the challenge, and as Bob said, we have a big one before us. This case will probably garner national attention, so be prepared for intense scrutiny, along with long hours."
Vincent Johns summed it up, from the comfort of his seat, where he pulled his tie slowly askew while he talked.
"My partners have said everything we usually cover with summer hires. I'll just add that we're glad to have you here, and if you have questions, please don't be afraid to ask.
Yes, we'll be under the gun with this case, but we know you're still learning. Don't assume anything. Please. If you don't know or if you aren't sure, ask."
The staff attorneys introduced themselves before the three law students took their turns again. This time Tawana's middle name rolled off her tongue more smoothly.
"I'm T. Elise Carter. Please call me Elise. I'm a rising third-year student at Harvard, and I'm looking forward to being part of the team."
Twelve hours later, when she returned to Serena's house with a briefcase full of notes that detailed what the firm knew of Neal Lewis's whereabouts in the week before, during, and after Drew Thomas's disappearance, Tawana's head was spinning.
Misha met her at the door and hugged her waist tightly.
"I had so much fun at camp, Mommy! We colored and painted and made music ...."
As Misha recounted her day, Tawana looked at Serena, who was dabbing Neosporin on Jacob's scraped knee, and mouthed "Thanks." Serena had picked Misha up from camp and fed her dinner. If the summer was going to be as intense and as grueling as today, Tawana realized she might be relying on her friend more than she had anticipated.
She just hoped it wouldn't be a burden.