Legal Artistry (12 page)

"As the client, don't I get to choose my attorney?” Dieter asked, and he saw Gerald smile slightly in his peripheral vision.

"Yes, you do,” Harold answered, “but when you hire my firm, you hire our entire firm along with our combined expertise and reputation. As I said, at first I thought to transition this case to another attorney, but Gerald has convinced me that, with the proper support, he can handle this case as lead attorney, and he's promised me that if the case became too much or if he thought he couldn't do a better job than anyone else, he'd step back. I don't believe that will happen. It's obvious that Gerald has your best interests at heart,” Harold said. “I need to caution both of you about some things. First, it's obvious that you have feelings for each other. I'd have known even if Gerald hadn't told me. I do have concerns about that, so all I'm going to say is that I trust all my attorneys to conduct themselves in a professional manner at all times.” Harold seemed to be addressing his remarks to Gerald, who nodded solemnly. “I also have a concern that involves both of you. If this case progresses to court, and it might, I want to caution both of you. If I can pick up on the feelings you have for each other, so can any opposing attorney, and they'll use it against you and the case if given the chance. Do both of you understand that?"

Dieter nodded unconsciously. “I hadn't realized,” he said softly.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, son,” Harold said. “It could be a problem if the opposition was able to use it. So be careful about what you let others see.” Harold's expression changed to what Dieter had always imagined a father would look like. “We're attorneys, we like to win, and so does the other side, so we don't want to give them ammunition.” Harold drained his glass, setting it on the table next to his chair. “Gerald and I have talked over the issue of our fee, and I believe we've come up with something that might work. Gerald, would you care to explain?"

Dieter shifted and saw Gerald smile at him. “Harold and I agreed that a positive outcome in this case is good for both you and the firm. So, he and the partners have agreed to take a bit of a chance. You will pay what you are able to for the hours incurred. Because of our relationship, you and Harold will work out the details. If we win or settle the case, then we are entitled to a percentage. Harold can explain that further when you discuss the fee agreement,” Gerald told him, and Dieter could see him suppressing a smile. “Basically, it shares the risk and the reward."

"But you'll be my attorney?” Dieter asked for clarification.

"Yes,” Gerald answered with a huge smile, “I'll be your attorney. We've developed a strategy and a plan to develop our case, and it looks like I'll be going to Vienna to do some research in the Belvedere archives."

"When are you leaving?” Dieter asked, disappointed that Gerald was going to be gone.

"We have to decide that,” Harold answered.

"We're trying to find someone who can act as a research assistant who speaks German—no one in our office does—but the sooner the better.” Gerald added. “The Austrians recently announced that they were opening the archives at a number of institutions to qualified researchers, and my graduate degree in international business qualifies me, so I don't have to let them know I'm a lawyer, but they could change their rules at any time."

"I speak and read German as well as Austrian German. There are slight differences. Gram taught me when I was a kid. I also took advanced classes in college and studied for a year in a special program from visiting German professors. I was originally going to be a German teacher, but the thought of being in a classroom with thirty high-school kids gave me hives, so I changed majors and discovered an aptitude for computers. I'm not a lawyer, but I'm sure I can read most documents we find.” The thought of going to Vienna had Dieter excited. Maybe he could find the house Gram had grown up in. “How long would it take?"

"If the archives are catalogued, it could take a few days. If they're not, longer,” Gerald explained.

Dieter scoffed. “Catalogued. They probably have them catalogued and cross-referenced eight ways from Sunday. They're Austrian, after all, and the Belvedere is an old museum that has kept records for decades. If you want me to go, I'll need to take time off from work, but at least it's a way I can contribute to the case."

"It is unusual, but not unheard of,” Harold commented. “We'll call tomorrow to arrange a schedule and a time you can come in so we can review the financial details."

Christine stepped into the room, indicating that dinner was ready. “That's enough business talk, gentlemen. I want to remind you, Harold, that part of the reason you invited Dieter here this evening was so you could tell him about his father.” She smiled brightly at Dieter as Harold got up, and together they led them to dinner.

The table was beautifully set, with the flowers Dieter had brought in a crystal vase in the middle of the table. Dieter sat where Harold indicated, with Gerald directly across from him. “Please help yourselves,” Christine said, and Harold began passing dishes around the table.

"Your father and I were quite a pair,” Harold began almost as soon as the serving dishes settled back on the table. “He and I went to a private high school, and we used to love to trick the newbies. Along one edge of the campus was a retaining wall, and in the fall, leaves always collected at the base of the wall. It was my job to befriend the new kid and show him around campus. Somehow,” Harold said, chuckling knowingly, “we always ended up sitting on the edge of the wall talking with our feet dangling over the edge. Your father used to hide in the pile of leaves at the base of the wall, and at the prearranged signal, he'd reach up and grab the newbie's leg.” Harold began to laugh and Dieter laughed along. “They'd nearly jump out of their skins, and after they got over it, they'd beg us to let them scare the next kid. Last I heard at an alumni board meeting, they were still doing it."

"Did you know my mother too?” Dieter asked after he swallowed. “I have few memories of either of them. Most of what I know came from Gram or Auntie Kate."

"Not very well, but I was at your parents’ wedding. Your dad and I remained in touch almost until he died. You look a lot like him, but you seem very different. He was loud and boisterous, where you seem much quieter. I think you got that from your mother.” Harold began to eat.

"Was my dad a good student?"

"Your father was the class clown. He was smart, but he also liked to be the center of attention. The things he did almost got us both expelled more than once. Like the time he put shaving cream on all the toilet seats in the faculty restrooms,” Harold explained through chuckles that rippled through everyone else as the image hit home. “Or the time he decided to use a chemical fire extinguisher as propellant for a desk-chair rocket for our science-fair project. It took us two days to clean up the mess.” Dieter began to laugh, pleased to know something more about his father.

"I met your father just once,” Christine said with a smile. “He took my hand and bent forward. ‘It's a pleasure for you to meet me,’ he said before bringing my hand to his lips, turning it at the last minute to kiss his own hand."

"Do you know if my parents liked to dance?” Dieter asked once the smiles faded.

Harold looked puzzled for a few seconds. “I don't know about your mother, but your father had two left feet."

"Dieter's a wonderful dancer,” Gerald explained with a slight wink.

"Harold used to take me dancing when we first met,” Christine commented. “We haven't been in years. It's one of the reasons I love weddings, because we get to dance.” Harold said nothing in response, but Dieter could almost see Harold's mind working, and Dieter had little doubt that Christine was going to be taken dancing soon.

The stories about Dieter's father continued through dinner and into dessert. Dieter took in all of them he could, committing them to memory as though they were precious jewels. By the time they were done eating, Dieter had formed a picture of the father he never really knew, one of a man who loved fun, was fiercely loyal, and a practical joker above all else. By the time they left the table and returned to the summer room, Dieter wished that he'd been able to meet his father, because he thought he'd probably have liked him. Relaxing in the cooler evening air, the four of them talked for a while after dinner.

At the end of the evening, Dieter said good-bye to his host and hostess, thanking them for a lovely evening, and waited for Gerald to do the same before they left the beautiful home together.

"Were you serious about helping with the research?” Gerald asked once they were outside.

"Sure, and I've done research in Germanic libraries. They use a different system than here in the US. I'm not sure what sort of system the museum uses exactly, but I think I can be of help, if not with the research itself, then the language, at least,” Dieter explained as they walked to the cars. “Are we still on for Saturday?” he asked.

"Definitely,” Gerald answered as he opened his car door. Dieter wanted to kiss him good night, but wasn't sure that was a good idea in front of Harold and Christine's house. After getting into his car, Dieter was about to start the engine when he heard a tapping on his window. He lowered the glass, and Gerald leaned into the car, giving him a kiss good night. “I wish it was Saturday already."

"Me too,” Dieter answered, his body tingling from the energy in the kiss. Gerald moved away from the car, and Dieter pulled out of the driveway and onto the street, smiling the entire drive home.

Dieter had done his best to keep himself busy, but he'd been looking forward to Saturday all week and it was finally here. “Tyler, would you like something to drink?” Dieter asked as he pushed open the attic door, carrying a couple sodas.

"You're a godsend,” Tyler told him as he took the cold drink Dieter offered and began gulping it almost before he'd opened the can. “I placed the things I'm interested in near the door, and here's a list of what I'm willing to pay for each item. I've still got half the attic left. Your Gramps had an amazing eye. I've found boxes full of Baccarat crystal and some amazing pieces of Roseville pottery.” Tyler pulled another box from the row he was working on, setting it on the work table he'd brought with him, and began unpacking, letting out a whistle when he pulled out a vase painted with an angel. “Look at this. It's porcelain, hand-painted, probably nineteenth century, European, signed, and absolutely exquisite. This wouldn't have been looked at twice twenty years ago, but now I'd sell it for two thousand dollars and I'll have customers fighting over it.” Tyler handed the vase to Dieter. “You don't want to sell this. Put it in your living room. You'll never see another one as long as you live."

Dieter took the vase out of the attic, placing it in his Gram's old room for the time being before returning to the attic, where Tyler had moved on to yet another box. Dieter started going through the things Tyler had set aside, making sure there wasn't anything he wanted. “We'll need to wrap this up in about an hour,” Dieter explained as he peered down the list of items Tyler had made, his eyes widening at some of the values Tyler was going to pay him.

"That's fine. I'm about done for today. I set aside a few things I want you to pay special attention to before letting them go.” Tyler motioned to a few boxes off by themselves. “What are you and Gerald doing this evening?"

"I don't know. He said it was a surprise,” Dieter answered as he heard the phone ringing downstairs. Hurrying away, he answered the phone in the upstairs hall.

"Dieter, it's Gerald. I'm sorry to spring this on you, but....” Dieter felt his stomach sink. “I'd planned to take you out, but my mother called and the family has decided to get together for dinner, and my presence is strongly requested. I was wondering if you'd like to go with me. You don't have to, and I'll understand, but I'll be in hot water if I don't show.” Gerald didn't sound particularly happy. “My dad's celebrating winning some big case, and all the little ones have to be there to prop up his fragile ego.” Dieter chuckled at Gerald's mocking tone.

"Of course I'll go,” Dieter answered, a little disappointed that he wouldn't be alone with Gerald, but he would get to meet his family. “Are you still going to be here at six?"

"A little earlier, if that's okay?” Gerald asked, and Dieter said that was fine before hanging up and returning to the attic.

Thankfully, Tyler was finishing up, and Dieter helped him carry down the things he was willing to buy. After making multiple trips down the stairs, Tyler had him make a final check of each item, and they agreed on the price, haggling a little over a few items. “Just drop a check by when you get the chance."

"I will, and if there are any items in the area I set aside for you that you would like to sell, let me know. Of course I'll give you a good price, but I think you'll be pleased you held onto them, especially the desk set."

"Thanks,” Dieter said. He really had no idea what these things were worth, and he knew Tyler was being very fair. “I'll help you carry these to your truck, and then I need to get ready. Gerald is coming early, and I'm going to meet his family,” Dieter said nervously, remembering that Gerald's family were all lawyers and doctors. He hoped he fit in.

"Don't be nervous,” Tyler told him reassuringly. “You're going to be just fine, so have fun tonight and don't worry about it."

"I'll try,” Dieter promised before helping Tyler carry out the boxes. After saying good-bye, he hurried inside to clean up and get ready for his date.

Jumping in the shower, Dieter thought of Gerald, wishing he were with him right now. With soapy hands rubbing over his skin, Dieter closed his eyes, wondering how Gerald's hands would feel on his skin. He'd longed to feel the touch of another man, to know if what he'd imagined could be made real. His hands became Gerald's hands, touching him, stroking his skin and stoking his desire. Why Gerald enthralled him so he couldn't say, but he did, and Dieter found himself thinking of little else when he was alone. Dieter's hand slid along his shaft, stroking, grip tightening just the way he liked it. In his mind, Gerald knew just perfect ways to touch, to tease. Dieter's other hand stroked down his back, palm caressing his butt, finger teasing at the tender, sensitive skin of his opening. Warm water sluiced over him as he imagined Gerald touching and stroking instead of his own hand. Stepping out of the water, Dieter opened his eyes, stopping what he was doing. The real Gerald was taking him to meet his family, and afterward Dieter intended to invite him home, hopefully to see if the real Gerald was better than his imagination. Concentrating on his washing, rather than other things, Dieter finished his shower a bit frustrated, but definitely eager for his date with Gerald.