Johnson, Johnson & Lambert

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*****

Chapter 1

"I seen you, oh God, where was that?" the hostess of the Casa Ole restaurant said to Bobby Elswell as he and his sister Valerie Elswell waited to be seated.

"The Prejean Hour," Valerie suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it!" the girl said, excited to be speaking with a celebrity. "You was, oh God, what was it?"

"I'm the owner slash operator of Parasols magazine," Bobby said and pulled out a business card and offered it to the attractive girl.

The hostess recoiled, as if taking the offered card would somehow taint her.

"No shit?" a man behind them said.

Bobby turned and smiled at the older man.

"No shit," he said and offered the man the card.

"Damn, man, what's it like, huh?" the man asked, quickly taking the card before Bobby could change his mind, and before his wife could snatch the card away. "I Mean, being around all those gorgeous women all the time?"

"You tell me; you're standing right next to one," Bobby smiled and the man's wife gave Bobby a grudging smile.

The hostess saw a table finally ready for seating and led Bobby and Valerie to the table.

"Monique will be your server," she said, thrusting the menus at them, trying to beat a hasty retreat.

"You tell me; you're standing right next to one," Valerie imitated her brother's voice, teasing him.

Bobby smiled at his older sister and softly kicked her leg under the table.

"Ola," a chubby girl smiled as she put down a bowl of corn chips and a small bowl of salsa. "Get you

Something to drink?"

"Margarita, frozen, no salt," Valerie ordered.

"Agua, please," Bobby said. "I'm driving."

"We got a twelve ounce, a sixteen..." Monique said.

"Twenty ounce, thought I said that," Valerie said.

"No, you said 'no salt,' not how big," Bobby corrected.

While they waited for Monique to return with Valerie's drink, both brother and sister swept an eye around the restaurant. The dinner rush was dying down; it was already eight thirty on a Wednesday evening.

Valerie was an attractive brunette, twenty six years of age. Her long brown hair hung down in waves, framing her square face perfectly. Her brown eyes danced with merriment, a little mischief as she saw a couple of teenaged boys, obviously out on a double date with two girls.

The girls were busily texting, ignoring the two boys.

The five foot six inch woman waited until she was sure she had the boys' attention and spread her legs, raising the hem of her short pleated skirt. Both young men gawked as they saw a neatly trimmed triangle of brown fur and slightly moist pussy lips. She licked her red lips

Suggestively, then put a red manicured nail to her mouth and smiled.

"Stop that," Bobby smiled. "You keep showing it for free, they'll never buy the magazine."

She dropped the hem when Monique put her drink down. She made sure, though, to lean forward, showing her thirty five D breasts, capped with light brown nipples to the boys, and now their agitated dates as she took a big gulp of her drink.

"You know what you want?" Monique asked.

"Number five, beef, please," Bobby said.

"Number seventeen, chicken, please," Valerie said.

"Twins," Bobby said as Monique walked away.

"Huh?" Valerie said, looking around.

"We've never had any twins," Bobby said.

"Oh yeah," Valerie said, looking at the twin brunettes that were scraping the last of their meals into their mouths while their bored looking dates. Both men had already finished their meals and were just waiting for the twins to hurry up.

"Be right back," Valerie said and grabbed her purse.

"Hi, I'm Valerie Elswell," she said as she approached the table.

"There be anything else?" Stephanie Hebert asked as she held the table's check in her hand.

"Hey, Stephanie, how you doing?" Valerie asked the twenty year old waitress and May issue's cover girl.

"God, you don't want to know," Stephanie forced a smile to her face.

"Actually, yes I do," Valerie said and pushed a business card into Stephanie's hand. "Cell's on the back. Please, give me a call. I'm serious."

Then she turned her attention to the two girls at the table.

The girls didn't promise anything, but Valerie, as Editor In Chief of Parasols magazine, could read the interest in their eyes. As she sauntered back to their table, her

Eyes constantly looking for any other attractive female or male candidates.

"Food's here," Bobby said needlessly.

"Really? Is that what that is?" Valerie said sarcastically.

"I don't know why I even tolerate you," Bobby said.

"Yeah you do," she smiled as she playfully stepped on his foot. "I'm the best Editor in chief you've Ever had, I'm the finest piece of ass your magazine's ever seen, and I'm your big sister and I'll beat you up if you're not nice to me."

The friendly little wave one of the twins gave to Valerie as they left the restaurant told Valerie that they'd be hearing from the attractive girls.

In the queue behind the swinging doors, Monique looked over at Stephanie. For some reason, the woman at table five had gone over to table eleven and had given Stephanie a Card.

True, Stephanie was pretty, with nice, round breasts and tight looking backside, long brown hair and night brown, almost golden eyes. She had a smile that seemed nasty, seductive. Even Billy, the manager seemed to favor Stephanie, even though most of the other waitresses had been working at Casa Ole longer.

"Why that lady give you her card?" Monique finally demanded.

"Huh? Oh, Valerie?" Stephanie asked as she waited for her two shrimp tostadas to be prepared.

Stephanie thought quickly. She had posed for Parasols magazine, posed with her belly sticking out at eight months pregnant.

Valerie had offered Stephanie a thousand dollars for the four hour photo shoot, and because Stephanie had been the cover girl, she'd been given another thousand dollars.

At the time, that two thousand dollars had been a very welcome windfall. Her roommate and former best friend was getting married and moving out, Stephanie's mother had let Stephanie know, under no circumstances, was she moving back home, pregnant or not, and her manager at Super One Foods had reduced her hours to under twenty hours a week. Pulling twelve to seventeen hours a week, Stephanie wasn't even eligible for insurance.

"What the fuck, Patrick?" Stephanie had screeched at Patrick Gernaud, the manager of Super One Foods grocery store when he cut her hours to just seven hours for the week.

"Hey, sorry," the man smirked.

He'd asked Stephanie out several times, even offered her a place to stay when he'd heard about her roommate, Wanda Eckles moving out.

Stephanie had let the forty seven year old, five foot five, three hundred and twelve pound balding man know that she had no interest in sleeping with him. When her belly began to stick out, he redoubled his efforts to entice, ensnare the unmarried, pregnant beauty.

Failing that, Patrick decided he'd make Stephanie desperate, or make her quit. Stephanie had opted to quit.

But now, standing at the queue, Stephanie had no desire to let the obviously jealous Monique know, or let any of the numerous male coworkers that constantly berated, harassed her know that she had posed nude for a magazine.

"She was my next door neighbor, real sweet woman," Stephanie said. "Hadn't seen her in a while; she didn't even know I was working here."

"Oh," Monique said, having no way to verify or deny Stephanie's claim.

Stephanie grabbed her shrimp tostadas and swept the floor with her eyes before proceeding.

Yesterday, a couple in Denise's section had let their three year old boy run wild through the restaurant, making no effort to control the child. The four waitresses had complained to Billy Theriot, but the spineless manager had not gone to speak to the parents. Stephanie had a tray laden down with four plates when the ill-behaved child plowed right into her. Of course, the child cried, the food went everywhere, and the parents threatened to sue Casa Ole, the manager, Stephanie.

"Ma'am?" a well-dressed young man had said, getting to his feet and helping the still stunned Stephanie to her feet. "If these ill-behaved parents, who obviously have no sense and shouldn't be allowed out in public even think about suing you, give me a call, huh?"

The man pressed his business card into Stephanie's hand and sneered at the parents.

"My companion has the entire thing on her cell phone and I will be requesting a copy of the restaurant's security camera footage," he sneered. "Your child is your responsibility, not ours."

So Stephanie made sure to look before proceeding with the tray.

"And here we go; anything else?" she cheerfully said as she put the plates down.

She hated the red, white and black uniform blouse she was forced to wear; it billowed open, showing off her thirty six C lacy bra. She especially hated the very short black skirt and the high heels she had to wear. She could feel the skirt ride up, exposing the backs of her thighs. Another two inches and the table behind her would see the crotch of her black thong.

"I asked for another water five minutes ago," the woman snapped.

"I do apologize; I'll get that right now," Stephanie said.

She knew the woman had not asked for water when she'd passed by their table five minutes earlier. But she also knew that arguing with the customer was a sure way to lose the tip. Tips made up the bulk of her pay and with a three month old baby girl at home, Stephanie needed

Every single penny she could get.

She'd asked her mother for help, Asked her mother if she'd baby-sit every now and then while she worked.

"Oh no, you made this bed? You lie in it," her mother had cheerfully said. "You're the one Decided get yourself knocked up? You're the one decided not to get an abortion? You deal with it."

Stephanie's feet ached, her back ached, and her head ached. And this bitch was snapping at her that she'd

Asked for water five minutes ago, when Stephanie knew the woman had not asked for water.

But Kristina Marie Hebert needed formula, and diapers and a roof over her head. Just thinking about the roly-poly little brown haired, brown eyed girl, with her wide toothless smile made Stephanie smile, so she went and got the woman some water.

"There we are; anything else?" Stephanie asked.

And even after smiling, and putting up with the surly woman and the lecherous stares down her blouse from the male customer, they neglected to leave her a tip.

Chapter 2

Donald Pellichet, the 'Pellichet' of Richards, Pellichet and Jones Law Office smiled as Trevor Williams took a seat in front of his desk.

"Trevor, I know you're still kind of new to this legal stuff, so let me see if I can explain it to you," the older African American man said.

"Oh, please do," Mr. Pellichet," Trevor said. "Is there more to it than playing Solitaire on my computer?"

"When you're a brand spanking new graduate, trying to see if we'll take you on as an associate, you're

Supposed to bring in paying clients. Paying. Not pro bono work," Donald said, pushing a few papers toward the young man.

"Those ass holes," Trevor said, reading that Robin and Claire Boudreaux, the couple with the ill-behaved three year old child were proceeding with a legal suit against Casa Ole, Billy Theriot, and Stephanie Hebert.

Trevor explained to Donald what he and his sister had witnessed and Donald smiled as he pushed some more papers toward Trevor.

"They're professionals; that's how they make their living," Donald said. "They sue people and get them to settle out of court."

Donald slid some more papers to Trevor.

"It stops here and now," he said. "We're counter-suing for harassment and negligence; go get that girl to hire us as her attorneys."

"Do you know..." Trevor said

. "Name's Stephanie Hebert, twenty years old, lives at eight twelve Bailey Street, apartment three C,

DeGarde. Has a cell phone but we don't have that number yet; see if you can get it, huh?"Donald said, pushing Richard Boudreaux's three by five info card toward Trevor.

"Eye color?" Trevor joked.

"A delicious chocolate brown, oh, you meant hers, not mine, I have no idea," Donald said.

"Yes sir," Trevor laughed, standing up.

Donald also stood and shook the young lawyer's hand.

"Good work, Trevor, good work," he assured the young man.

While Donald was ushering Trevor out of his office, Stephanie was trying to hurry through a shower, trying to get ready for another seven hours on her feet, putting up with rude, demanding customers.

She shaved her legs; the uniform pretty much dictated that she couldn't even skip a day. She did reflect, however quickly, that she was grateful she'd no longer waxed her pussy.

When Greg St. Charles, Kristina's daddy used to come by, she kept her pussy completely bald for him. He liked them nice and smooth, and according to him, Dianne, his fiancé and now wife would never do that for him.

Well, Stephanie had done that for him. And he still married Dianne anyway. Now, Greg and Dianne lived in a charming little house in Baylor Lake while she lived in a tiny one room apartment.

Greg and Dianne St. Charles had two Persian cats, while she had a baby. A baby that needed constant attention, constant feeding and diaper changing.

At her last check up, the doctor had cleared her for sexual intercourse again and Stephanie had just snorted. She didn't even have time to masturbate, much less any desire.

Finished with her shower, Stephanie pulled on her bra, found the matching pink thong panties then pulled on her uniform.

Kristina was awake and gave her mother a big toothless smile.

"You're Mommy's sweet girl, yes you are, yes you are," Stephanie crooned as she took the girl into her arms.

A knock sounded at the door and Stephanie quickly peeked through the peephole.

Outside, Trevor had almost put his thumb over the peephole; he had thought that funny when he was a teenager. But he did not; reminding himself that this was a young woman, living on her own. He did not need to frighten her.

Inside, Stephanie looked at the handsome young man and frowned. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place him.

"Yes?" she called out through the door.

"Ms. Hebert? I'm Trevor. Trevor Williams; I'm an attorney?" he called back. "I gave you my

Card when you tripped over that little bast... The child that tripped you? At Casa Ole?"

"Oh, okay, hang on," Stephanie said, then thought about it.

"How'd you find me?" she called back, anger creeping into her voice.

"We have a private investigator; ma'am, I really don't feel like yelling through a door," Trevor called out. "If you'd be more comfortable meeting me at say, Jitters?"

"Like I fucking have time for..." Stephanie groused, put Kristina in her crib and unlocked and unchained the door.

Sitting at her tiny table, Stephanie filled out the forms, with Trevor's assistance. She smiled as he made smacking sounds on Kristina.

When he had asked if he could pick the baby up, she had stared at him.

"Love babies," he smiled. "She's what? About two, three months?"

"Will be three months tomorrow," Stephanie said and watched him as he scooped Kristina out of the crib.

"Oh no! You're a lawyer?" Trevor said in a high pitched voice. "Mommy, help me!"

"Yes, but I'm one of the good ones," Trevor answered.

"No, no, there's no such thing as a good lawyer," Trevor said in a high pitched voice.

"Okay, here, where it says plaintiff?" Stephanie asked, giggling.

"You on the fifth page?" Trevor asked.

"Uh," Stephanie counted through what she'd already filled out. "Yeah."

"Then that's you; we're counter-suing the Boudreauxs," Trevor said, then reverted to his high pitched voice. "All lawyers are douche bags!"

"No, no, little girl," Trevor answered. "It's ninety nine percent of lawyers that give the rest of us a bad name."

Stephanie burst out laughing and Trevor grinned at her.

She signed on the seventh page, then went back and initialed the other six pages and tapped them and straightened them before handing the papers back to Trevor.

"Now, give me my little girl back before you corrupt her," Stephanie smiled and Trevor gave Kristina a quick kiss on her forehead before giving her to her mother.

The Haitian woman from next door came to the apartment and glared at Trevor.

"You the father, eh?" she snapped in her heavily accented English. "Eh? Put a baby in her and No pay nothing, eh? You not a real man. Go on; get out of here, eh?"

"No, no, Clarisse, this is my lawyer," Stephanie called out before the black woman could slap Trevor.

"Ah! Ah, good that good!" Clarisse said, smiling now. "You find that bum, make him pay eh?"

"And, here, I forgot to pay you last night; God, I was beat," Stephanie said and handed Clarisse some money.

"Oh, it's nothing," the woman said, stuffing the money into her bra cup. "I knew you'd remember; you a good girl. You go, have good night at work, eh? Me and Miss Kristina, we have good time, you don't worry."

Trevor politely walked Stephanie down to her car, and then went to his own car. Then he drove back to the office of Richards, Pellichet and Jones.

"Mr. Williams, not an hour ago," Donald mock sighed. "Not even an hour ago, I sat right here and

Explained to you how a law firm works. You get paying clients, clients that make us money and we pay our bills. That's how it works."

"Yes sir," Trevor said.

"But is that what you do?" Donald asked. "Noooo, that's not what you do. You find little girls got

Them a baby daddy ain't paying his child support."

"Sorry sir, I'll do better next time, "Trevor said.

"I'm sure you won't; get out of here and get her to fill out the forms for child support," Donald said and sipped his green tea.

Chapter 3

Stephanie did smile as she thought of the handsome and amusing lawyer that had stood in her dumpy little apartment and held and rocked and talked with her baby.

She carefully parked her car, and then warily checked around before getting out.

Two of the waitresses and the bus boy were outside, smoking. The bus boy thrust his crotch forward, but the two waitresses ignored her as she entered the restaurant through the kitchen door.

"Ola," the dishwasher greeted her, flexing his sweaty arms for her benefit.

"Ola," she politely agreed, found her time card and clocked in.

"Uh, Stephanie, I see you for a minute?" Billy called out and she sighed and went into his small office.

Maybe it was because she'd just had an attorney in her apartment, or maybe she was getting wiser in her old age, but Stephanie made Billy write out a letter, stating why he was terminating her. Then she clocked out and made him sign her time card so he couldn't stiff her the twenty seven hours and twelve minutes she had coming to her.

"Hey, he, you leaving?" the dishwasher asked.

"Yeah, ass hole fired me," Stephanie angrily said.

"Uh, hey, you uh, you ever need anything, huh? You just come see me, huh?" he crooned and Stephanie nodded her head curtly and left the restaurant.

Trevor looked at his cell phone and answered it.

"I just got fired because them ass holes are suing the restaurant," Stephanie said when he answered.

"You're not going to like this," Trevor couldn't help but smile as he stood outside of Donald Pellichet's office.

"Oh, I'm sure I won't," Donald smiled. "Are we taking on more charity cases? Hey, Trevor, I tell You what, why don't I give you my ex-wife's number? I'm sure she'd be glad to cost this firm some serious money."

Donald lost his smile when Trevor relayed to him the phone call he'd just received from Stephanie.

"Okay, we need to set up an expense ledger for her; don't worry, we'll charge that against her earnings from this case," Donald said and pressed a button on his phone.