"Rosato & Associates," Mary DiNunzio said into the receiver, then kicked herself for answering the phone. The caller was Premenstrual Tom, a man who wanted to sue the Philadelphia Police Department, the United States Congress, and a local cantaloupe. He'd been calling the office at all hours, and Mary felt sorry for him. He was obviously off his meds and had reached one of the few lawyers in the city who wouldn't sue fruit.
"This is Mr. Thomas Cott!" he shouted. "Who's this?"
"I'm Mary DiNunzio. We spoke yesterday—"
"Get me Ms. Benedetta Rosato!"
"Ms. Rosato is gone for the day, sir." Mary checked her watch. 10:16 P.M. Everyone had gone home hours ago, and until now, the offices had been blessedly quiet. "The office is closed."
"Then what are you doing there, Ms. Mary DiNunzio?"
Good question, Mr. Thomas Cott. Mary was working late again, reading until her brown eyes turned red and her contacts dried to the crispness of breakfast cereal. Documents blanketed the conference table like a legal snowstorm, and her compact figure had been curled into the swivel chair for so long she felt like a meatball. "Mr. Cott, I'll take a message and tell Bennie—"
"I refuse to leave any more messages! Get Ms. Benedetta Rosato on the line! I demand to know why she won't represent me! She specializes in constitutional rights, it says so on the computer!"
"The computer?"
"In the library! The website, your website! It says it right there! That's false advertising! What about my constitutional rights? They don't matter? I don't matter?"
"Mr. Cott, no lawyer can take every case," Mary answered, then hesitated. Bennie had told the associates not to engage Premenstrual Tom, but if she could explain it to him, maybe he'd stop calling. "I think Bennie told you she didn't think your case could prevail in court. She's practiced constitutional law for a long time and has excellent judgment, so—"
"All those judges are in on it! All of them are crooked, every single one of them! City Hall is a pit of conspiracy and corruption! They're all in the mayor's pocket!"
"Mr. Cott, the judges in City Hall aren't crooked, and your case would be in federal court anyway—"
"You're not fooling me, either of you! Put Ms. Benedetta Rosato on the telephone right now! I know she's there! She must be, she's not at home!"
Mary blinked. "How do you know she's—"
"I went to her house! I knocked on her door, I waited for her to answer! The windows were dark!"
Mary stiffened. "How did you get her address?"
"It's in the phone book, I looked it up! What do you think I am, incapable? I may not have a fancy law degree, but I am not incapable, MS. MARY DiNUNZIO!"
Mary suddenly stopped feeling sorry for him. He was shouting louder now, almost screaming.
"I SAID, get MS. BENEDETTA ROSATO on this telephone RIGHT NOW! I KNOW she's right there with you!"
"Mr. Cott, if you'll just—"
"DON'T LIE TO ME! Don't you DARE LIE TO ME!"
"Mr. Cott, I'm not—"
"I'll come down there, you LYING WHORE! I'll come down there and SHOOT—"
Mary hung up, shaken. The conference room fell abruptly silent. The air felt charged. It took her a moment to process what had just happened. Okay, Premenstrual Tom had morphed into Psychotic Tom, and it wasn't funny anymore. Bennie was at an ACLU dinner, but it would be ending soon. She could be going home. Mary had to warn her. She reached for the phone to call the boss's cell.
Rring, rrriiinng! The phone rang underneath Mary's hand, jarring her. Rrrriiinng! She gritted her teeth and let it ring twice more so voicemail would pick up. She should never have engaged Premenstrual Tom. When would she learn? Her goodgirl reflexes—Help Out, Be Nice, Tell the Truth—sucked in the practice of law.
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