Lawyers and accessories.

"Okay, have a good rest of the day," you call out right after the bell rings.

Your students surge to their feet, excited to be free. Even as they were packing their things, they were already gossiping about George Patrick breaking his hand on your classroom door.

"Karma's a bitch," gossiped Melanie Patterson and Stacey Manfreddi as they passed you heading out the door.

You were certain that by tomorrow everyone would know. Hopefully nothing further would come of this, given your less than stellar relationship with Coach Reese.

Then you smile, remembering that Reese was sitting in a Naples, Florida, jail cell. Bailey, last out the door, purposely brushed past you, whispering, "Later, Daddy."

Now alone, you head back to your desk and gather up your things while you wait for the girls to arrive. Not that you have to wait for long, as all three arrive within 30 seconds of each other. The girls greet you, then each other as they arrive. Clearing your throat, three pairs of curious eyes turn to you.

"Okay girls, we have two stops today," you announce. Quickly taking a look at the clock you say. "I have an appointment with a lawyer in like an hour and a half downtown. Then afterwards we are dropping by Sinners Sanctum."

Playing with her collar, Lili asked. "Oooohhhhhhhh, are you getting Dallas some jewelry, Daddy?"

"MMMaaayyyybbbeeeeee we'll just have to see, won't we?" you teased.

The four of you make your way outside to the parking lot. As you exited the building, you saw that at some point in the last two hours it had rained.

"Man, all that work yesterday... rrruuuiinnneeddd," your niece chimed, only for all three of you to clap back. "Welcome to Florida."

Hopping into the car, you turned on the engine, letting the sweet, sweet AC start to cool the cabin. After the trio piled into the back seat, you pulled out just as the first bus was leaving.

Pulling out on the road, you reach over, flipping on the radio. Instead of music, you find yourself wanting to grind your teeth as you hear. "If you can avoid taking I-275 South. Because a jackknifed semi-truck is blocking all but one of the southbound lanes just before the bridge."

"That doesn't sound good," Krystal observed, looking up from her phone.

"No, it isn't, but we should still be able to make it on time," you murmur as you change lanes.

Traffic was heavy as you made your way around the bay. The girls wisely left you alone as you fought your way through traffic. Finally, after dodging three near misses, getting cut off twice, and two people wailing on each other in a bout of road rage, you pulled into the parking garage next to the downtown office.

Releasing your death grip on the steering wheel. You turn off the engine before taking a moment to massage your weary fingers.

Getting out of the car, Krystal broached the question. "Did we make it in time, Uncle?"

Checking your phone, you nod, saying, "Made it with 11 minutes to spare."

Leaving the parking garage, the four of you enter the office building next door. Stopping in the lobby, you see that Marley and Marley are located on the 14th floor. Heading over to the elevators, you see that one set of doors was open. Unprompted Dallas charges over to hold the door for you.

There were 4 other people in the carriages as you and the girls squeezed in. Going up, your car stopped at the 5th and 11th floors to let the other riders get off. Arriving on the 14th floor, you get out of the elevator and look around. Sure enough, there was a large set of double doors: 'Marley and Marley, Attorneys at Law.''

Opening the doors, you usher the girls inside. You had made it with three minutes to spare. The rectangular room had a large desk with a receptionist posted there. Around the room were 15 leather chairs and two sofas. The reception area even had a water and coffee stand. Pointing at one sofa, you had the girls sit down while you approached the receptionist.

"Can I help you?" Asked the pleasant young woman looking up from her work.

Smiling, you reply. "Hi, I'm Jason Clarkson, here to see John Marley."

The receptionist scans her appointment ledger, telling you. "If you'll take a seat, sir, Mrs. Haggerman will be out a minute to take you back."

You had just sat down with the girls when an older woman walked into the waiting room. Other than the receptionist, you and the girls were the only people currently waiting. The woman strides over to ask. "Mr. Clarkson?"

"Guilty as charged," you reply, standing up.

Holding out her hand, you shake it as she speaks. "Good afternoon, I'm Maggie Haggerman, Mr. Marley's secretary. If you would follow me, please."

"Sounds good to me," you reply, following the woman. She proceeds to lead you back into the labyrinth that made up Marley & Marley Attorneys at Law. Following her, she leads you to a door marked "John Marley, Sr. Partner."

Leading you inside, you saw a large ornate oak desk that probably cost more than your car. Leading you over to a thickly cushioned leather back chair, she asked if you wanted anything to drink.

Settling in the chair, you shook your head, saying, "No, thank you."

With that, Mrs. Haggerman made her exit, quietly closing the door behind her.

John Marley appeared to be around your age, give or take 5 years. He had a receding hairline, and his waistline indicated long nights and bad eating habits. The button on his suit was undone, and he was enjoying a leisurely drink of what appeared to be Scotch whiskey when you arrived.

Taking one last sip of amber liquid, he put down his glass, saying. "Thank you for agreeing to see me. I'm sure it was not easy driving across town this time of the day."

"No, it wasn't," you replied with a grimace.

Leaning forward, he asked, "May I call you Jason?" He smiles at your tiny nod, continuing. "Jason, I've been retained by the Sigma Alpha Epsilon Fraternity and the families of the young men from the incident involving you."

"So you're the fixer?" You reply.

Nodding, a tiny smile flashed across his face. "Some people may call it that, but I'm merely here to make all parties whole to this unfortunate incident."

Your eyes scan John Marley's office for several seconds before shrugging. "Well, I'm here, so I'm willing to hear what you have to say."

"And I'm glad for that," he murmurs before asking. "May I record our conversation? As I've gotten older, I find it more difficult to take notes."

"That's a curse we all suffer from," you commiserate before adding, "Record away so long as I also receive a copy."

"Maggie will provide your copy before you leave." Mr. Marley replied before pushing a hidden button.

"Okay, so let's not beat around the bush, shall we?" Markey picked up his glass, taking another drink while he gathered his thoughts.

"The fraternity doesn't want its name in the news about 12 of its members gang beating someone on the streets." Shaking his head, he added, "Nor do their families want their sons' futures ruined over misplaced loyalty."

"Really," you replied incredulously. "It's sheer luck the misplaced loyalty, as you put it, didn't leave me sipping on a straw."

Mr. Marley flashed you a mirthless smile. "I know, and I told the fraternity and the families as much after I read the police report."

Anger at the stupidity that could have done more damage than just knocking you out for two days welled up in you.

"So, what are they offering?" you bitterly ask.

You saw a flash of what may have been sympathy flash through his eyes. "I've talked with the D.A., and unless you agree to drop the charges, his hands are tied."

"So you want me to just let them off," you angrily hiss.

"I'd be angry too if I were you," the lawyer conceded. "But these are young men who shouldn't have their lives ruined over misplaced fraternal loyalty."

Grasping his glass, the lawyer shot gunned the rest of his drink. Sitting the now-empty glass down, he said. "If you agree to drop the charges, they will accept a deal of misdemeanor drunk and disorderly with community service."

You open your mouth to say something only for Mr. Marley to cut you off.

"In exchange... after signing an affidavit attesting that all legal issues are settled and an N.D.A... you'll be given the following consideration."

"What consideration?" you bite out.

"I'm getting to that," he replies, raising his hand. "The fraternity will, of course, pay your full hospital bill. And for your pain and suffering the families of the young men will each pay you 50,000 dollars."

Slightly stunned, you sit back in the chair.

"I hope you agree that my client's proposed settlement should more than make you whole."