He looked around the boardroom. The few staff who hadn’t already fled the sinking ship were standing around despondently, heads down, shoulders hunched. The other partners had found posts elsewhere, and today only he and his father remained of what had once been a proud family law firm. There were thirteen people in the room. He’d known most of them for years. They were decent, loyal employees who didn’t deserve what had happened to them. ‘Everyone got a glass?’ he called. He’d gone out and bought champagne – Moët, nothing cheap – out of his own pocket, because he was determined they would not go down hanging their heads. James Blair was standing looking out of the window. How often had he stood there over the years? Pondering some difficult case, considering a staffing issue, or maybe just stealing a quiet moment of satisfaction at everything he’d achieved, despite his own father’s divisive will. What must he be feeling now? Adam put the thought aside and adopted a determinedly cheerful expression.
