What to read for, what to preserve, who to notify and what a lawyer's reply costs, in the first seven days after a demand letter arrives.
One owner's working record of what an attorney was hired for, what got handled without one, and what the bills came to. Written down so the next person can skip the guessing.
The one-sentence claim test

The envelope usually arrives on a Tuesday, on letterhead, with a deadline set fourteen or twenty-one days out, and the first instinct is either to fire back a paragraph of indignation or to file it under things to think about later. Both cost money. The first week after a demand letter lands is mostly reading and preserving, not arguing, and the owner who spends that week carefully often pays a fraction of what the owner who spends it reacting pays six months on. What follows is the order a careful reader works in.
Most demand letters are two documents stapled together in one voice: a narrative of grievance, which is long, and a legal claim, which is short and sometimes barely there. Read for the second. Ask which specific promise, statute or duty the letter says was broken, what the writer says the money is for, and whether the dollar figure is tied to anything countable, invoices, lost sales, repair estimates, or whether it appeared from feeling. A letter alleging breach of a written contract clause sits in different territory from one alleging that you behaved unfairly, and the difference decides almost everything after.
The date on the letter is the sender's preference, not a court's schedule, and a missed fourteen-day window does not itself create liability. It does, however, tell you something about intent: a lawyer who names a filing date, cites a court and encloses a draft complaint is further along than one who asks you to call. Compare the two before you decide urgency. What genuinely runs on a clock is the statute of limitations on any counterclaim you might have, and any notice period buried in your own contract, which is worth locating in the same sitting.
The single cheapest thing available in week one is a document hold, and the single most expensive mistake is a routine deletion policy running through the relevant email while you decide what to do. Tell whoever administers your systems to suspend auto-deletion on the accounts, texts, job files and accounting records touching the dispute, in writing, and keep that instruction. Then assemble the chronology yourself: the signed agreement, change orders, invoices, payment records, and the messages where the trouble first surfaced. An attorney reading an organized file bills two hours where a shoebox bills ten.
General liability, professional liability, employment practices and cyber policies each carry a duty to defend that can be worth more than the indemnity, because defense costs are what actually drain a small company. Most policies also require prompt notice, and late notice is a common reason a carrier that would have paid does not. So notify, in writing, and let the adjuster tell you no if the answer is no. Where coverage exists, the carrier appoints and pays counsel, which changes the cost comparison in the next section entirely.
A retained attorney's response letter does two things at once, and a careful reader thinks about both. It signals that you will not be walked over, which ends a fair number of speculative claims outright, and it also raises the temperature, prompting some senders to escalate rather than fold. Where the amount claimed is small, the relationship worth keeping, or the facts genuinely awkward, a direct, documented conversation and a signed release often closes it for less than the retainer. Where the claim is large, the theory serious, or the sender is a repeat player, counsel early is the economical choice, because litigation costs compound, discovery most of all, while an early settlement is a known number. The Federal Trade Commission oversees unfair and deceptive practices in commerce, and claims framed in those terms deserve professional reading before any reply goes out.
What week one produces, done properly, is not a decision but a file: the claim stated in one sentence, the deadline and its real weight, a preserved record, a notice to the carrier, and a written estimate of what a defense and a settlement each cost. Every later choice gets cheaper from there.
Written document hold. Instruct in writing that auto-deletion be suspended on the email accounts, phones and job files connected to the dispute. Keep a copy of that instruction with the file.
Chronology before counsel. Assemble the agreement, change orders, invoices, payments and the first messages where trouble appeared, in date order. Organized files cut attorney review time sharply.
Prompt notice clauses. Most liability policies require you to report a claim promptly, and late reporting is a routine reason coverage is denied. Notify the carrier even when you expect the answer to be no.