“What if I want to stay at the firm?”
“Oh, my dear, that would be a life-altering error on your part.”
“Why? I can make a formal complaint, and then he’ll have to account for his actions. Maybe that former associate who filed a lawsuit against the firm will be interested in my story,” Sarah blurted out.
Dr. Natarajan walked over to her door, and pushed on it to make certain it was closed. She then returned to face Sarah, leaned down, and almost spat in her face. “Now you sound stupid, and I know from everything you’ve just told me—and from your file—that you’re anything but. Do you really think you have even the slightest shot at winning against one of the most powerful firms in the country? Do you think anyone will believe you over Billy Acker? The man can have any woman he wants, yet you’re going to convince a jury of your peers that he chose you?”
She walked over to her cabinet, retrieved papers and pushed them and a pen across her desk. Taking a softer tone, she said, “Sarah, I’m trying to help you. If you file a claim or discuss this with anyone, this offer will be off the table for good. This type of behavior happens. In your next position, when something like this happens again—and odds are it will—I suggest you learn to live with it. Think of a way to use the power you have in the moment to your advantage.”
Sarah was shocked and felt suddenly exhausted. She hadn’t expected this when she walked into HR. Standing, she said, “I need time to think this over. I’ll get back to you soon.”
“Sarah, the terms of the offer expire when you walk out that door. I’m offering you a significant sum of money and a new, better position at a top-tier firm, where you can do the kind of work you trained to do. Don’t be stupid,” Dr. Natarajan said as pushed the papers closer to Sarah.
Sarah began to cry out of frustration and as reality sunk in. She had debts to pay, and she couldn’t expect her hard-working, blue-collar parents to help. Picking up the pen, she slowly signed her name on the bottom line.
CHAPTER
36
“OKAY, GIVE ME an update. What’ve you discovered since our last meeting?” Jack barked as he rushed into the room and sat at the head of the table.
Jason nodded at Samantha. They had agreed she would go first, and he would wrap up. They had also agreed that if Jack began one of his abusive tirades while one of them was talking, the other would try to distract him while they got him back on topic. Neither of them knew if their plan would work, but they agreed it was better than passively sitting and being screamed at, or being a witness to the screaming for God only knows how long.
Samantha could tell by the energy he had swept into the room that Jack was in a foul mood. She took a deep breath and kept a hopeful thought. Maybe if I speak quickly, he’ll hold his powder until it’s Jason’s turn. Not a very loyal thought, she noted inwardly, but it’s everyone for himself when it comes to Jack.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” Samantha jumped, as Jack’s bark brought her quickly back to reality.
“We’ve questioned all the lawyers on the hiring committee and the personnel in the human resources department about their practices and procedures. We’ve also questioned the nominating committee members about the requirements for partnership and how that process is handled. So far, it all seems organized, clean, and clear.”
“Jesus, what the hell does ‘organized, clean, and clear’ mean? Is it your time of the month? Because you sound like you have shit for brains right now,” Jack snarled.
Samantha knew it was best not to take Jack on when he was in one of his moods, but she also wasn’t going to cower under his bullying. “The firm’s followed the accepted processes other firms use for hiring and partnership determinations, which have previously been found to be non-discriminatory and proper by the courts when they’ve been tested.” Samantha looked at Jason, signaling his turn.
“However,” Jason began, “the firm has no explanation for why we are statistically out of whack with comparably-sized firms regarding the number of female lawyers that leave.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Now you sound like her,” Jack said as he jabbed his thumb in Samantha’s direction. “Maybe your hormones are on the same schedule. I’ve heard that happens when women work together.”
Ignoring Jack, Jason pushed on. “So, the issue remains. Why is our firm well below the statistical average?”
“Why do we care?” Jack asked out loud, although he was talking to himself. He shot out of his chair and dragged the whiteboard out of the corner. Using a black marker, he wrote WHY and JURY. Jack adopted a professorial tone. “We care because the jury will want to know why, and Victoria and her lawyer will come armed with evidence to grind our deficiencies into the jurors’ heads.” Jack walked toward the back of the room and asked, “If I were them, what would I do?”
Samantha and Jason leaned back in their chairs and knew better than to open their mouths. While Jack could be a real asshole, there was no doubt he was one of the best trial lawyers in the country. This type of ranting display was when he was at his best. Focused and fine-tuned, Jack almost always spewed gems and his two protégés were more than willing to retrieve every bobble.
“I would bring in other firms’ managing partners to testify to their firms’ stats on women,” Jack answered himself and walked rapidly back to the board to write managing partners. “Of course, they’ll tout their great female-to-male partner ratio and use their obligation to testify as a marketing opportunity and try to take our business. What else? What else?” Jack paced as he spoke. Taking huge strides back to his board, he wrote, consulting firm. Turning and pointing at Samantha and Jason, he said in a manic tone, “I would bring in a consulting firm, specializing in diversity, to testify to our sorry as shit statistical lack of female partners. I’m missing something. What is it?” Jack asked as he stepped back and stared at his board. “Of course. The most obvious thing is almost always the most elusive.” His eyes seemed to glaze over and then focus again. “I would bring in the women themselves. ‘Tell the jury, Ms. X, why you left the firm right before partnership after you worked for six years and put in sixty hours every week? I’m sure the jury will understand how you suddenly concluded after all that education, time, and hard work that the law was not your calling. Well, that certainly makes sense, doesn’t it ladies and gentlemen of the jury?’”
Samantha and Jason had no idea where he was headed at this point. “Goddamn it,” he suddenly yelled, making both Samantha and Jason jump, “we need an answer. What does the firm say when you ask why all these women left?”
Samantha looked at Jason, hoping he’d field the question but saw that his head was bowed in a deliberate effort to avoid eye contact. Pussy, she thought. “Jack, everyone we spoke with blamed the women. They said they all made life choices right before partnership eligibility,” Samantha answered, catching Jason’s eye and throwing him a withering look.
“Or,” Jason jumped in, “they said the women didn’t have big enough books of business, so they knew they’d never make partner and left.”
Jack paused mid-thought as he walked back to his brain trust of a whiteboard and drew a line down the middle. With the information he’d already written on the left, he labeled the right side Us/Defense, and listed two bullet points under the new heading: life choices and small book of BS. Standing back, he looked at his creation. “Well, that looks and smells like shit. Unless we can pack the jury with middle-aged, uneducated white men who believe they’ve been passed over for just about every opportunity and have a bone to pick with anyone who isn’t them, we’re screwed. Any disagreement with that?”
Both Samantha and Jason remained quiet, understanding that this was a rhetorical question. “Well, Goddamn it. What do we need?” he shouted.
Not sure she knew what the hell he was talking about but unable to sit like a lamb waiting for the slaughter, Samantha blurted out, “Evidence?”
“Exactly. What kind of evidence?” Jack continued.
Jack nodded and headed back up to the board to write witnesses: former associates. “What else?” he asked, now staring at Jason. After a minute of silence, Jack screamed, “Oh, for Christ’s sake. What the hell are you being paid for? You have absolutely no idea what we need.”
“Documents?” Jason responded.
Samantha ducked as the marker shot by so close to her head her hair moved, narrowly missing Jason’s face, and slammed into the wall. “How about expert testimony of our own? Ever think of that? Jesus Christ,” Jack spat in disgust as he retrieved the marker. “There must be some expert whore somewhere who, for enough money, will testify that women do make these life choices for whatever the fuck reasons they may have and that this is not unusual.
Having almost been maimed, Jason was now fully alert. “We’ll need an expert who will also opine that one woman partner is the norm, not a statistical anomaly, for a firm of our size. I highly doubt anyone is going to put himself or herself out there on that limb.”
“You highly doubt,” Jack responded caustically.
“Really?”
Holy shit, Samantha thought, here we go.
“That’s what you’ve learned after working with me for—what is it now—six years?”
While the better course of action was for Samantha to stay quiet, she’d simply had enough of the abuse. Even when it was only peripheral, it was incredibly damaging, so she tried to change Jack’s path. “Give us a few weeks to get experts lined up. There’s no reason to have any further discussion based on a hypothetical.”
Jack straightened his suit, shifted his tie, looked at his watch, and seemed to snap out of it. “The end of the month—that’s all the time you’ve got—or consider your careers at the firm over.” Turning, he calmly walked out the door and down the hall.
Jason waited a minute, got up, and shut the door. “I hate that man.”
“Unfortunately, sharing your feelings won’t help us right now. We need to find witnesses and experts. I’ll take the experts and you look for witnesses,” Samantha directed.
“We’d better move everything else off our plates. Asshole’s given us only two weeks.”
CHAPTER
37
VICTORIA KNOCKED SOFTLY on Armond’s door and pulled her cashmere shawl tighter. While she waited, she mentally shook herself and tried to relax.
It was only a kiss. After all they’d been through, they should certainly be able to handle that. Plus, he’s the one who kissed me, she thought, so why should I feel uncomfortable? Pushing her shoulders back, she began to feel better. Just as she threw her hair back over her shoulders in a feeling of defiance, Armond opened the door, showcasing a red nose, but otherwise looking remarkably recovered.
“Well, I see you’ve recovered from your mishap,” Victoria said, sounding much harsher than she had intended.
“Indeed. The next time I kiss you, I’ll be sure to wear protective head gear.” Stepping back from the door, Armond motioned. “Come in. We need to make a quick call to my father before dinner. He’s asked that we let him know our thoughts.”
“Fine. But we haven’t made any final decisions,” Victoria answered, distracted by his reference to a next time.
“He understands. He wants our general thoughts about the trip and the Asian investor pool, as well as a timetable for when we’ll deliver our recommendations.” Armond speed dialed his father on speaker and set the phone on the table between them.
“Well, well. It’s the world travelers. I’ve been waiting with bated breath for you two to call,” Phillip answered.
“Victoria and I are well, thanks for asking,” Armond responded.
“Don’t get clever with me. You two have been gallivanting around Hong Kong now for close to a week, and this is the first I’ve heard from –”
“Oh, you two, ignore him,” Armond’s mother cut in. “His nose is out of joint because he’s not there handling it himself. With the company growing, he’ll need to learn to rely on you two and others to handle more and more matters. Victoria, how do you like Hong Kong? I assume Armond’s at least taken you to one of their talented tailors. They’ll make you a one-of-a-kind outfit to your exact measurements and specifications. Even better, once they have your measurements, you can order clothes, and they’ll ship them to you.”
Victoria smiled at the excitement in Angelika’s voice and looked over at Armond. “Hong Kong is amazing. The number of people here from all over the world far outstrips what I imagined. The city’s such a unique combination of sophistication and old world, but it all fits together somehow. It’s really impressive.”
“What about the tailor? Have you had the time yet?” Angelika pressed.
“Not yet,” Victoria said, watching Armond signify tomorrow. “Apparently, we’re going tomorrow.”
“Enough about tailors—" Phillip broke into the conversation. “Tell us about the investor pool.”
“In one word, impressive,” Armond jumped in, knowing his father did not like chitchat when he was waiting for an opinion. “Overall, the meetings were productive and informative. We intend to rank them, taking into consideration not only their financial capability, but also our assessment of whether they can really be hands-off.”
Victoria bent forward toward the speaker. “Only two of the potential investors requested cameos in the film: one for himself and the other for his mistress. We told them Renoir Productions has a zero investor participation policy.”
“Good. The last thing I want to deal with is some investor’s idiot mistress. Did either of them lose interest?”
“Nope,” Armond answered. “In fact, we’re under the impression they’re all rather anxious to get their money out of their countries and into a legitimate US investment. Compared to US investors I spoke with before the trip, they were far less interested in the casting possibilities and far more concerned about how fast we can get the contract and wiring instructions to their lawyers.”
“Armond and I think that the interest in getting their money invested in the US will work to Renoir Productions’ advantage.”
“In what way?” Phillip asked.
“Less contractual niggling. We don’t think they want the legal teams to hold up their investments.”
“We think some of these investors are literally ready to wire the funds tomorrow,” Armond added. “They all present as liquid. There’s a good chance our upcoming project can be fully funded by the end of next month, depending on the number of foreign investors you want in this project.”
“That’s great news,” Phillip responded. “I had a feeling the investor pool over there was going to be strong. I assume you can track the legitimacy of the cash to make sure it’s not coming from any illicit activities. The last thing we need is to get mixed up in some violation of money laundering laws.”
“I hired a US firm that specializes in tracking foreign investors’ cash origins. They’re turning reports around almost as quickly as we get the information to them. So far, they’ve opined that the origin of our current potential investor pool’s funds appears clean, although they’re quick to point out that nothing is 100 percent certain and there are many ways that money can be cleaned.”
“I assume we’re getting their opinions on these investors in writing?”
“We are,” Victoria answered.
“Great news! Finalize your opinions and send us a memo before you get on the plane. While you’re traveling home, we’ll look it over and make our final decisions after we’ve asked any questions. Victoria, you’ll be our guest at the house for a few days.”
Realizing it wasn’t a question but rather a request, Victoria looked over at Armond for help and shook her head. “I’d love to, but I need to catch the next flight back to Chicago as soon as we land. I’ve left my practice for too long, and while everything is running smoothly, I need to get back to my
cases. But if you need me to discuss final thoughts or answer any questions, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time for a conference call while I’m at LAX waiting for my flight.”
Armond watched Victoria but said nothing, knowing his father would not take no for an answer.
“Victoria, I fully understand how important your firm is to you,” his father began on cue. Armond leaned back, prepared to listen to his father work his magic. “I remember when I began this company. Angelika had to threaten me to get me to take even a few days off, so I’m right there with you. But let me suggest an alternative plan that might suit us both. Spend the night with us and leave first thing the next morning. That way we can have the face-to-face meeting we prefer, and you can get some sleep and recover a bit from jet lag before heading home. We’ll have the company plane take you to cut out all the time suck of flying commercial. We should be able to get you home by midday. Does that work?”
Victoria sat back and looked across at Armond. He simply shrugged his shoulders, knowing his father would get his way.
“Thank you, Phillip. I really appreciate the offer, but I can’t let you use your plane just to take me home. If it means that much to you, I’m happy to stay the night, and I’ll get the first flight out in the morning.”
“Great!” Phillip exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the table in front of him. “We’ll see you in two days, and we’ll have dinner at the house.”
The line went dead, and Armond smiled at his father’s abilities. He tilted his head at Victoria in a silent request for her thoughts.
“He won’t let me fly home commercial, will he?” Victoria asked.
“Nope.” Armond smiled. “That’s what I thought.”
Armond held out his hand to help her off the couch. “Shall we?”
“I’m famished. Bring your notes. I want to get agreement on our ranking of the investors.”
“It’s all in my head. I don’t need any notes.”
Private Agendas: A Victoria Rodessa Legal Thriller Page 16
