But where would Sam find such a rare, trustworthy attorney?
“I can do it,” a voice echoed from the hallway.
Both Sam and Thomas pivoted to find Guadalupe standing under one of a dozen chandeliers, holding a duster, hand propped on her uniformed hip.
“You?”
“Yes, sir. I passed the bar exam this past spring.”
Thomas bellowed laughter, but Guadalupe held a fixed glare. “I’m sorry, what’s so funny about that?”
“My maid—a lawyer? That’s a good one, Guadalupe. I never knew you to be a jokester.”
“I’m not joking. Where do you think I’ve been going every night? Did you ever once hear me when I told you why I couldn’t work evenings for your parties?” He probably listened as well as when she told him she wasn’t Mexican but Spanish-American.
“I just assumed you had a family somewhere.”
“Sir, I live in your maid’s quarters! How on earth could I have a family somewhere else?”
“So… you’re telling me that you have a law degree?”
“From Duquesne University, sir. You would know that if you ever listened to a thing I say.”
“I’m sorry—”
But Guadalupe was a vented pressure cooker now and wasn’t stopping. “You know what really irks me about you? You never bother to pay attention to anyone else but yourself, and I’m not Mexican, I’m SPANISH!”
While Thomas did pay attention and notice her disappearances, it was only when her absence caused an inconvenience to him. He had never cared to ask where she went or what she did in her free time.
“But we can’t hire you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re on my payroll.”
“Not anymore I’m not,” she stated, dropping the duster to the floor.
Only now that he discovered she was officially a lawyer did he come to another realization: she would be leaving him. His natural instinct was to get frustrated at this untimely nuisance, but the new Thomas took over and smiled.
“You’re Spanish. Got it. And congratulations on the bar exam. I want to host a celebratory party for you, Guadalupe. You have waited on me hand and foot for a long time. It’s the least I can do before this lawsuit makes you rich.”
It really was the least he could do, considering he had never given her a raise during her fifteen years of service.
“As long as I won’t be responsible for organizing the party or cleaning up,” she agreed. “So am I hired?” Guadalupe turned to Sam.
“You’ve got the job!”
It would turn out to be one of the biggest pharmaceutical settlements led by a woman not just in 1972, but in history.
Sam’s father would have been proud. He set the bar high when it came to men, and there was only one other man in Sam’s eyes who came close to being as wonderful as her father. She wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that again.
She had said what she came to say and marched down the long Morewood Heights driveway, past a Rolls-Royce and impossibly green grass and excessive marble archways, glad that none of it was hers. For what she truly wanted wasn’t found in the novelties behind that lion’s head knocker, but in a much simpler, homier place.
At the end of the driveway she hopped in the muscle car her father had never gotten to fully enjoy, knowing the last check payment for the car had officially been cashed, leaving her with $4.16 to survive on until she found another job.
She wouldn’t worry about money or a job or her near-empty bank account today. It was a beautiful summer afternoon, the convertible top was down, the sun speckling her fair skin, and she would enjoy her dad’s car for him as she raced back to the only thing she knew beyond a doubt that she wanted—more than her column, and more than justice.
Chapter 44
Raul’s apartment doorknob rattled but wouldn’t budge when Sam twisted it, so she knocked, then yelled at the door until several residents popped their heads out into the apartment hallway wondering what all the ruckus was about. Only after agitating a dozen tenants did Sam remember the spare key Raul had made for her in case she ever needed to get inside when he wasn’t home. Today was one of those days.
In the modest apartment of a downtown building overlooking the Allegheny River, Sam paused to take in the scene. It was nearly a beautiful view, despite her fear of heights. Overlooking the murky river bridges that shot out from the mountains hugging the city, she grinned down at a roll of smog that almost resembled a sunset-hued fog hanging over the skyline.
