The Liabilities Lawyer

"Nice afternoon, isn't it?"

Your briefcase clicked as you placed it on the table.

"I'm from your law firm Alessandro & Associates, a junior associate, to help with the recent car accident in Japan. I have the documents at hand, but you'll have to take the time to fill them out. Do you have any questions?"

"It's fine. Go on," was the response.

"Good. Okay, then..." you snapped open your briefcase. A twenty-four year old man with blonde hair sat across from you, a coffee table separating your conservative, black stilettos from his casual, white sneakers. He slouched with his elbows on his knees and his hands interlaced in front of him. His office's fancy Italian hardwood furniture didn't suit his scruffy parka, nor his casual jeans. Behind him, several men stood in suits. One watched the door, one watched the window, one watched their escort, and one watched you. You yearned for them to sit down, their standing aloofness feeling awkward when the sofas were so inviting.

"Huh?"

You stopped glancing at the paperwork and quirked your eyebrow.

"...Well, I don't know how you could," you pulled out a piece of paper from your briefcase, a court transcript, "drive through an underground mall and cause 200,000 Euros worth of damage! What happened?" You immediately regretted your curiosity. It was wholly unprofessional.

The young man smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and shrugged his shoulders.

"I was running a little late." He started, and at your skeptical look, he continued. "I had a meeting with the family. I thought I hit the brake pedal at the intersection, but I accidentally hit the gas..." He looked like he would fall apart.

"For what my boss is worth, this accident is nothing to judge him on," one of the suited men said strongly. Then, the mustached suit looked up at you. "Mistakes happen like that all the time."

"Yeah, just have to laugh about it," Dino replied, now grinning. "We're only human." His smile asked you to give in to him. To relax. To feel a sort of connection that lowered your lawyer-ly rigidity like a hard seashell. This reckless man smiled like an innocent child. For some reason, you thought it admirable that he could be so carefree when confronted about his mistake. And so, you couldn't help but let a small smile cross your lips. His attitude was rather infectious.

But the smile disappeared as fast as it came into sight.

"Why didn't you get car rental insurance?" you asked, withdrawing a stack of photos from your no-nonsense briefcase and thrusting them in his direction. The first picture was of a silver convertible smashed into a pyramid of tennis ball cylinders, the second, a picture of civilians fleeing the scene, and the third, a trail all the way to the escalator of burnt rubber, feathers, and smashed gourds. A fallen banner, declaring the Namimori underground shopping center's grand opening clothed the totaled vehicle like a Roman toga.

"Are you alright? Were you really in that car?" You had only seen simple cases since you joined the law firm six months ago. A telephone pole toppled over by an SUV. A few medical malpractice suits involving embedded surgical utensils. But still, mostly incidents involving cars and the common mistake of speeding, with just the car manufacturer and car owner parties involved. Never to an accident this… horrific. You had imagined, perhaps, a domino effect, not a car turned wrecking ball.

"Oh, I'm fine. It wasn't as bad as it looks."

It was hard for you not to question him further. Gourds? Feathers? How had he gotten his driver's license in the first place?

But… he did look okay.

You scanned him over for a few extra seconds and you willed yourself out of inspecting his legs underneath the coffee table. It would be rude and you were here on business. Only business. Besides, he might take it as something sexual, and an inner blush crept up inside you.

"I'm tougher than I look. But, truth be told, I should have been more careful." He sounded like an earnest, old man, embarrassed he'd forgotten his house keys. One of the suited men put a hand on your Signore Cavallone's shoulder.

You, with only the slightest hesitation, slid the paperwork across the table.

Simple enough. He perked back up quickly. You were used to it though. Lawyers dwelled in mankind's weaknesses since the dawn of civilization.

Soon, your borrowed fountain pen was put to the dreadful mound of paperwork. You offered to stay, but he said he would much prefer if you left him alone to work and if you grabbed lunch. It was already noon, but you were reluctant on leaving him.

"But there are so many details to fill out! You might have a question." Who was injured? What was damaged? Who was at fault? What exactly happened?

"Don't worry about me. I can take care of this easily." Two of his body guards had already left to go to lunch.

"Sure you're sure?"

"Ha! It won't kill me."

True. And he did seem confident.

"Go eat. You look hungry."

"Okay," you gave in. "I'll come by to pick it up in a couple hours," you said, wondering why this new client was the first not to ask who he or she could sue.