35

The next Monday, Paige woke early, made a cup of coffee, and put together her list. Today would be the official launch of the Chambers Law Firm. She had already ordered the letterhead, settled on a snazzy logo, and put together a website that, despite Paige’s best efforts at buffing up her meager experience, still seemed embarrassingly hollow. Today she needed to open a trust account and an operating account, set up QuickBooks, and take the website live. Then she would be in business.

She felt a small rush of pride. This was the American way. Sure, she had only one client—and one with whom she had never discussed fees—but you had to start someplace. Big dreams, high risk, and the freedom to be your own boss. She still couldn’t believe she was doing this.

After she finished her coffee, she put on her running gear and headed out for her morning run. The ground was wet from thunderstorms the night before, and there was a chill in the air. She shivered for the first half mile or so but then warmed up as she neared the boardwalk, about a mile and a half from her house.

She turned right and ran into a stiff breeze, the ocean air clearing her head of worries and fears and responsibilities. She nodded to folks walking or running in the other direction and glanced out at the surfers in wet suits riding erratic waves. She passed hotels and restaurants and condos on her right. In a few months, the vast concrete boardwalk would be teeming with people, but right now, it was just Paige and the other locals. Her own private oceanfront practically in her backyard.

It was a good run, one of the first she’d had in the last thirty days. The emotional roller coaster and lack of sleep following Patrick’s death had drained her, causing her to skip the exercise she needed, thus draining her even more. But this morning she practically sprinted the last half mile. She finished strong and bent over, hands on knees, gasping for air. She walked around the parking lot of her condo to catch her breath.

Back inside the condo, still sweating from her run, Paige picked up her cell phone and saw two missed calls from Kristen along with a text asking Paige to call. She knew it couldn’t be good, and she felt the sudden crush of pressure again.

“Have you seen the news?” Kristen asked.

“No. I’ve been out running.”

“Can you come over?” Kristen’s voice sounded fragile, like she had been crying.

“Sure.”

“That woman who accused Troy of molesting her is all over the news this morning—” Kristen’s voice broke off.

Paige waited, not knowing what to say.

“I’m just really struggling.”

“Let me change. I’ll be right there.”

Paige toweled off and changed into some jeans and a T-shirt. She pulled her hair back and gathered it into a ponytail with an elastic band. She could put on her makeup later. Her friend needed help.

Before heading out the door, she paused to check one of the national morning shows. The host was interviewing a woman named Jordan Johnson, who apparently went by the nickname JJ. She looked like she had walked off the set of an extreme makeover show—bright-red lipstick, lots of eye shadow, stylish brown hair. Her dress was modest, just above the knees, though she wore three-inch heels. She wore a cross necklace and folded her hands in her lap.

She claimed Troy Anderson had molested her in a bar. Groped her and said things to her she couldn’t repeat on the air. She had told him to stop a couple of times, but his hands were all over her.

She talked as if she might break down at any moment, and Paige wondered how many times she had repeated the same story already that morning on different shows, hitting the perfect emotional tone, one of pain mixed with anger. She hesitated, and the host gently prodded her to continue.

“Finally some of the other guys in the bar came over and told him to leave me alone. But this SEAL guy told them to get lost and started pressing himself against me. That’s when the big fight broke out.”

“Why are you coming forward to tell your story now?” the host asked. “Some will say this is just a move by the president’s political supporters to smear the reputation of a man who died for his country.”

JJ looked offended and then, as if she were a seasoned actress, turned to the camera. “Nobody asked me to come forward. But I believe our president is a good woman. And I also know that the lawyer who filed this lawsuit against the president’s chief of staff is the same man who defended Troy Anderson and did everything he could to smear my reputation just for telling the truth about what happened. Before our entire country judges President Hamilton, I think they ought to know the kind of man making these accusations.”

Paige had heard enough. She texted Kristen, telling her to hang in there and that she was on the way. She remembered what Wyatt Jackson had said. They must be onto something, because the president’s team was pulling out all the stops to shut them down.