Sycamore Row - John Grisham

21
The Law Offices of Jake Brigance had never used an intern. Other lawyers around the
square occasionally allowed them in; they were usually local college kids who were
considering law school and looking for something to stick on a résumé. In theory, they
were good sources of either free or cheap labor, but Jake had heard more bad stories
than good. He had never been tempted, until Portia Lang came along. She was bright,
bored, unemployed, and talking about law school. She was also the most sensible person
now residing in the old Sappington house, and her mother trusted her implicitly. And,
obviously, her mother was still on track to become the richest black woman in the state,
though Jake saw formidable hurdles ahead.
He hired Portia for $50 a week and gave her an office upstairs, away from the
distractions of Roxy, Quince Lundy, and especially Lucien, who by Thanksgiving was
showing up every day and warming up to his old habits. It was, after all, his office, and
if he wanted to smoke a cigar and fog up everybody’s space, then so be it. If he wanted
to walk around the reception area with a late-afternoon bourbon and harass Roxy with
dirty jokes, then so be it. If he wanted to pester Quince Lundy with questions about Seth
Hubbard’s assets, then who could stop him?
Jake was spending more and more time refereeing among his expanding staff. Two
months earlier he and Roxy had existed quietly in a rather dull but productive manner.
Now, there was tension, sometimes conflict, but also a lot of laughs and teamwork.
Overall, Jake was enjoying the noise, though he was terrified Lucien was serious about
returning to the practice. On the one hand, he loved Lucien and treasured his advice and
insights. On the other, he knew any new arrangement wouldn’t last. Jake’s trump card
was a key provision in Mississippi law that required a disbarred lawyer to take the bar
exam before being reinstated. Lucien was sixty-three years old, and from around 5:00
p.m. each day, and sometimes earlier, until late in the night, he was under the influence
of Jack Daniel’s. There was no way such an old drunk could study and pass the bar
exam.
Portia arrived for her first day of work at five minutes before 9:00, her appointed
hour. She had timidly asked Jake about the office dress code. He had quietly explained
that he had no idea what interns wore, but he guessed things were casual. If they were
going to court, she might want to step it up a little, but he really didn’t care. He was
expecting jeans and running shoes, but instead Portia presented herself in an attractive
blouse, skirt, and heels. The woman was ready for work, and within minutes Jake had
the impression she was already thinking of herself as a lawyer. He showed her to her