"Mr. Wellington wants to see you," Mary buzzed.

The Lake Henry matter was keeping me busy, and for half a heartbeat, I considered asking Mary to tell Wellington I wasn't available. At least today I had numbers. And a new client. I had defense, even if I felt like a third grader being called down to the principal's office.

I stopped abruptly in the doorway of Wellington's office. A man stood staring out the window with his back to the room. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had a client. I can come back."

"Trevor, come on in!" Wellington benevolently held his arms out as if, from behind his desk, he could encircle both me and the man who turned from the window. "I think you know John Maert from Maert and Sons Paper? Mr. Maert, Trevor Muir."

In three broad steps, John Maert met me at the door with a bright smile and his hand outstretched. "Nice to meet you, Trevor. I'm sure you're busy, but I'd like to talk to you about working on a project with Maert and Sons, if you have a couple minutes."

Never in my life had I stuttered, but I did then. "Sure, I mean, I'm just, sure!"

We took chairs at Wellington's table.

"I think my grandson's about your age," Maert said to me.

I nodded. "A couple years younger. I remember watching Thomas play soccer in high school when I was a senior and he was a freshman. Quite a player. Went on to play for State, didn't he?"

Wellington beamed. "That he did! Tough as nails, that one. And smart! Double majored in Business and Environmental Engineering. Promises he's going to take over the business one day. And he's actually why I'm here. He's been telling me Maert and Sons needs to jump in with both feet and get green."

I slid a sly glance at Wellington. He had faded into the wallpaper, a silent, but interested ghost hovering at my side, but Maert's words brought him into sharp relief. He slapped me on the back, "That's exactly why we hired the most brilliant young attorney in the field."

"To my good fortune!" Maert said. "I'm looking for someone with the same passion as my grandson. Someone who can help us establish an even smaller carbon footprint than the state requires. And, at the same time, Thomas wants me to fund a new research and development firm that will specialize in discovering a new form of paper created with fiber from faster-growing plants. It will be a green, American-made paper. Maybe they'll stop cutting down the forests of Brazil."

It sounded too good to be true. I was already thinking about how Maert might no longer need to cut large swaths of lumber out of the northern part of the state; how a smaller, local manufacturing plant could save on transportation costs of the initial pulp once they had developed a new process; how solar or wind energy might be used to severely cut back on the amount of pollutants Maert and Sons put into the environment. Wellington had excused himself at one point to take a call, and an hour had zipped past as I excitedly babbled on about the possibilities and furiously scribbled notes on a notepad.

When I finally took a breath, Maert held out his hand to me again. "I think I've found my guy. It was a pleasure to meet you, Trevor."

I shook his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Maert. I can't begin to express what this opportunity means to me."

Wellington stepped from behind his desk. "Shall we schedule another appointment?"

Maert held his hand out, and Wellington shook it. "I think I'd like to get the two youngsters together. Let Thomas and Trevor meet. This feels like a language they understand. I'll have my secretary give you a call, Trevor."

"Thank you again, Mr. Maert. I'll see you soon." I practically skipped from Wellington's office, but then turned back with one last thought. "Thank you, Carter. I appreciate you bringing me in on this."

"Oh, sure, Trevor. My pleasure."

"There's someone else you might want to thank as well," Maert added.

I raised an eyebrow in question.

"I saw Dave Sinclair's tweet."

A tweet. With less than 140 characters, Dave Sinclair became my superhero.