Still, this was one heck of a crazy fruit. We're not talking about apples or oranges here. This was in the realm of magical papayas.

Tuck's mouth broke into a grin. He knew that I would react this way, and he found it funny that I was having such a hard time accepting something that had gained so many believers over the years.

"Jack, how can I put this?" he managed to say with only the slightest hint of mock contempt. "You're a lawyer. You've devoted your entire adult life to the law. You've immersed yourself in it for so long that you can barely recognize anything that comes from outside a courtroom."

That was probably true. Being a mesothelioma lawyer was in my blood. In my line of work, you had to stay completely focused on things like laws and loopholes and precedents. I didn't have the luxury of letting my mind wander off to fanciful musings about things that might be entertaining to dabble in, but which ultimately didn't matter.

Some lawyers tried to do that. They thought they could be a part-time lawyer, keeping one toe in the latest changes in mesothelioma compensation laws and another toe in normal life. It didn't work that way. Those cream puffs were bound to miss things if they ever took their eyes off the ball, and that's why I won so many cases.

I had done quite well for myself by being the best damn lawyer I could be. Take a look at my office, and you'll see copies of multi-million dollar checks framed all over the walls. Clients came to me because I knew my shit, and I didn't make mistakes.

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