Logan - Lane Hart Page 0,1
left her alone in a foreign country?” I ask in disbelief.
“Help her, Logie-Wan Kenobi. You’re her only hope,” Page says, quoting Star Wars with the use of the nickname she gave me when we were kids.
“If Chambers approves this, and that’s a big if, then I’ll do it,” I reluctantly agree.
“Thanks, Logan,” Page responds, ending the call before I can change my mind.
I’m still shaking my head in disbelief of the things I do for my sister when I stand up and slip my black suit jacket back on. On the way to the elevator banks, I make sure my tie is straight as an arrow.
The conversation I’m about to have with the man upstairs could set me back years in making partner in the firm. Still, I told Page I would at least give it a try, so I step onto the elevator when the doors open and press the number eight to take me up.
When I find Walter Chambers’ secretary on the phone behind her desk that’s just outside his closed office doors, I patiently wait for her to hang up.
“Hi, can I help you?” she eventually asks, not even recognizing me as an employee of the firm since I’m so new. There are probably a hundred lawyers in the building.
“Hi. I’m Logan Davenport. I work down on the fourth floor doing legal research in the criminal division. I need to talk to Mr. Chambers, if he has a few minutes,” I explain.
“Mr. Chambers is very busy–” she starts to blow me off before I interrupt.
“It’s about his daughter Brayden, and it’s pretty urgent.”
The secretary’s mouth forms an O of understanding, and then she holds up her index finger. “Just a second,” she says. Picking up her phone, I assume she’s buzzing the boss’s office. My theory is confirmed when she says, “Mr. Chambers. I know you said not to bother you, but there’s an associate here who wants to speak to you about your daughter. Yes, sir.” Hanging up the receiver, she says to me, “You may go on in.”
“Great, thanks,” I tell her as I march up to the double doors and knock before turning the handle to enter. I’m expecting the man to be in a piss-poor mood after hearing the news about his daughter being in jail.
“Logan! Betty didn’t say it was you,” Walter Chambers exclaims with a smile as he stands up from behind his desk to come around and shake my hand.
“She probably didn’t remember my name,” I explain, glad that he at least knows who I am.
“I bet you’re right,” he agrees with a good-natured laugh, not at all the sad, angry father I was expecting. “Have a seat and tell me what brings you up here. Or more specifically, tell me what my daughter has done now.”
“Well, sir, I take it you’ve heard that she’s been arrested in Mexico?”
“Yes, of course,” he answers with a sigh as he rubs a hand down his red tie. “Awful timing too. This afternoon I have a big golf fundraiser for Alzheimer’s starting, and it’s going to last all through the weekend. Not to mention Marcus is out of town, so I need to be here in the city in case any office matters arise.”
“Sure, sure,” I agree even though all that sounds like weak excuses for not helping his daughter. I haven’t even met the girl, but I’m starting to feel sorry for her. “I know you’re extremely busy, sir, but I’m caught up on my research, and Brayden is a friend to my sister’s in-laws. I’m sure you remember Sadie and Jude. So, if you don’t mind letting me take a few days off, I can go down to Cancun to see what I can do about getting her out.”
“Absolutely. That is, if you’re certain it won’t be an inconvenience for you,” he replies.
An inconvenience? Really? A young girl is sitting in a shithole without anyone there to help her.
“None at all,” I assure Mr. Chambers. “In fact, I’ll try to get a flight out this afternoon.”
“That would be fantastic, Logan. Anything you need in the process, just let Betty know, okay?”
Let Betty, his assistant know, meaning he doesn’t give a shit.
“Sure,” I say as I get to my feet and shake his hand again so that I can get moving.
“And Logan,” Walter calls out when I grab the door handle. I turn back to him, and he says, “Don’t make a big stink about this family mess to anyone; and when