Low side or not, they absorbed the numbers in muted  nike heels  silence for what seemed like a very long time, each instinctively spending some of the money. For Rodney, it meant college for the kids. For Paulette, it meant a divorce from the Greek she'd seen once in the past year. For Jonah, it meant life on a sailboat.
     "You're serious, aren't you, Clay?" Jonah asked.
     "Dead serious. If we work our butts off for the next year, there's a good chance we'll have the option of an early retirement."
     "Who told you about  chanel bags outlet  this Dyloft?" Rodney asked.
     "I can never answer that question, Rodney. Sorry. Just trust me." And Clay hoped at that moment that his blind trust in Max Pace was not foolish.
     "I almost forgot about Paris," Paulette said.
     "Don't. We'll be there next week."
     Jonah jumped to his feet and grabbed his legal pad. "What's that Realtor's name?" he asked.
     ON THE THIRD FLOOR of his town house, Clay had put together a small office, not that he planned to do much work there but  cheap chanel bags  he needed a place for his papers. The desk was an old butcher block he'd found in an antique store in Fredericksburg, just down the road. It consumed one wall and was long enough for a phone, a fax, and a laptop.
     It was there that he made his first tentative entry into the world of mass tort solicitation. He delayed the call until almost 9 P.M., an hour at which some folks went to bed, especially older ones and perhaps  chanel handbags outlet  those afflicted with arthritis. A stiff drink for courage, and he punched the numbers.
     The phone was answered on the other end by a woman, perhaps Mrs. Ted Worley of Upper Marlboro, Maryland. Clay introduced himself pleasantly, identified himself as a lawyer, as if they called all the time and there was nothing to be alarmed about, and asked to speak to Mr. Worley.
     "He's watching the Orioles," she said. Evidently Ted didn't take calls when the Orioles were playing.
     "Yes—would it be  chanel bags outlet  possible to speak to him for a moment?"
     "You say you're a lawyer?"
     "Yes ma'am, from right here in D.C."
     "What's he done now?"
     "Oh, nothing, nothing at all. I'd like to talk to him about his arthritis." The first impulse to hang up and run came and went. Clay thanked God no one was watching or listening. Think of the money, he kept telling himself. Think of the fees.