by P. W. Davies
“Crystal.” Christian frowned and drew from his cigarette. “Tell me about this job, then.”
“You said you were on your way to the bar. Get here and we’ll talk shop.”
Nodding, Christian ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. His pace slowed while remaining steady, headed for the edge of a neighborhood the locals called Fishtown. These locations, all still foreign, but starting to wear away at the edges of familiarity; Christian didn’t know how much to trust it, but he recognized it happening in inches. While he doubted the States would ever be his home, and the Yanks ever his kinsmen, he had reached the last place he had left to run and needed to feel alive again.
Even if feeling alive often came at the expense of another.
One
If you had asked him six months ago where he expected to be in five years, Victor Mason would have given a very certain answer. “Junior partner at Crispin & Hawke. Married to Beverly. Living in a condo in the city if we decided to wait on children, otherwise a house in the suburbs near one of the train lines. Hosting occasional dinner parties, as we’ve been doing, or weekend cookouts if we landed on the house. Fitting in a marathon or two each year. Some traveling of course, including visiting my parents in Nevada and hers in New York. Making investments toward retirement and the beginning of a fund for my eventual senior partner buy-in. Living life. Content, but ready for more.”
He wouldn’t have been entirely wrong. Becoming a junior partner was still a year or two off, but a firm certainty considering the bonus they’d given him this year. His Philadelphia condo was spacious without being too indulgent and had the luxury of being just a short commute from the office. Morning jogs were practically a ritual even in the winter months, and he’d successfully completed both marathons he’d entered this year. However, he hadn’t felt up to hosting any dinner parties. That was largely due to the more dramatic change in his circumstances.
Beverly had not been as steadfast as he was about what she wanted out of her future. It wasn’t as though the friction appeared out of nowhere - she had always had a different approach, different interests than he did. And while that had never bothered Victor, in the four years they spent together he only involved himself in a handful of her pursuits. Far more had simply not appealed to him, and neither of them had known how to navigate the divide. Now with the five and a half months separating him from being left with a half-empty condo and a note on the kitchen counter, Victor was able to admit he owed Beverly thanks.
If you asked him if he was tempted to seek her out after gaining some clarity, he would smile softly, and shake his head. “No. We made too many promises to one another based on the people we thought we were, or on who we thought we should be. Better that both of us are free to be with someone new, knowing what we now know.”
And if you brought up that Beverly was engaged again, with a wedding date set not long after the one she and Victor were supposed to share, he would politely excuse himself from the conversation, so he wouldn’t have to respond. Those wounds would take longer to heal.
“How was your run this morning?”
The smooth, feminine voice interrupted his thoughts, prompting him to raise his eyes so he could see over the top of his computer monitor. Framed by the open doorway of his office, Evie Stanton clutched a folder in her slender fingers, waiting expectantly for Victor to respond.
“Chilly, but not off-putting.” His eyes lingered on the folder, knowing that if Evie was delivering it herself there was something significant inside. Of all the cases their firm had open, a few might fit the criteria. But this time of the morning, the sparkle in her eyes, he knew without her saying a word.
Victor pushed away from his desk to see her better. “Nathan assigned us to the Bechtel Systems acquisition,” he said.
It came out as a statement, not a question. Evie was clearly far too pleased with their new assignment or she would have been telling him that one of these days he was going to be wrong. Never mind that it hadn’t happened in six years. “You need to sign the official notice,” she said. “Now.”
He raised an eyebrow as she swept his mouse away from the corner of his desk to make room for the open folder. “Is it going to-”
“Don’t you dare say disappear or I will shove this pen into your ear.” She waved it at him for emphasis.
The pen quickly found its way into his hand, so his signature could be added to the form. Evie snatched it back and closed the folder again as soon as he finished writing Victor Mason in crisp penmanship to the line it had designated for him, beside where Evie Stanton had been signed with her characteristic sweeping strokes.
She nodded at him, pleased. “I’m taking this straight to Caroline. And I’m supposed to tell you Nathan wanted to see us. Walk with me?” It had been issued as a question because Nathan would understand if they didn’t rush immediately to his office. The junior partner preferred giving his associates the liberty of deciding their own priorities for the day and trusted those decisions unless given a reason not to.
Victor nodded, standing and buttoning his suit jacket. “This isn’t urgent,” he said while smoothing his shirt and tie in a practiced motion that was nearly subconscious after so many years wearing the same attire.
“Good,” she said. Evie led the way to Caroline’s desk at a brisk pace, which made Victor even more curious about what had prompted Nathan to suddenly assign them to this case. Those were Prada heels on her feet and usually that meant walking down the hallway at a moderate pace, as though the shoes would object to being rushed. Evie glanced back over her shoulder, not quite turning around but enough to say one word clearly for him to hear. “Samuel.”
He soured. Despite knowing that their fellow associate had already been working on the acquisition of Bechtel Systems by Shaw Industries, Victor had been hoping for a few hours of peace before having to deal with him in person. “Perhaps getting coffee first?”
Evie ignored him. Victor promised himself this time, like all the other times, the junior partners would be none the wiser as to the conflict between the two senior associates. His professional future had survived a broken-off engagement and there was no way he would put it in jeopardy for an ass of a lawyer like Samuel Drake.
Caroline, the middle-aged, general secretary for the senior associates, was her usual, chipper self and took ownership of the document while complimenting Evie’s gem-studded hairpin. After Evie thanked her for noticing, Caroline made notes on the folder about how many copies it needed, where to send them, what case it was for, and where the original should be filed. Victor thanked her as well before Caroline shooed them off to answer her desk phone.
Both he and Evie knew copies would be made in less than ten minutes, delivered in-house within fifteen, and any that needed to be sent to clients would be in same-day mailers scheduled for pick-up before lunchtime. Caroline was supremely efficient, and Victor often wondered how different Crispin & Hawke would be without her.
They were waiting in front of the elevator banks to go up to Nathan’s office when Evie broke the quiet that had settled around them. Their floor’s lobby was bereft of other employees, so they had a few moments to talk without worry of being overheard.
“Samuel must have really ticked someone off.” Evie usually made a good effort to Americanize her accent, but that last statement was entirely in her native English dialect. She was British all the way through her Cambridge degree but had graduated from an American Ivy League law program and taken a job here in Philadelphia.
“He has that gift,” Victor replied.
“Yes, but even you admit he’d never endanger a relationship with a client.” Evie had always been better about keeping things professional and courteous with Samuel, even when his undeniable superiority complex resisted all her gentle efforts of correcting it. Victor preferred being a blunt instrument when he had little doubt a person looked down on others, which is one of the reasons his dislike of Samuel was equal parts given and received.
Still, Evie wasn’t wrong about Samuel’s rapport with his clients. He glanced at the lights indicating what elevator was closest to retrieving them. “I’m guessing we were not fortunate enough that his blunders got him kicked off the case.”
Evie shook her head. “Nathan didn’t tell me our official assignment yet. I got the impression he needs to finish assessing the damage.” Her accent was still very present, and Victor realized it had been a while since he’d heard her this excited.
It made him smile. Despite the competitiveness of all the firm associates, Evie had been a friend from the day they met. One of his few good friends so seeing her eager to dive into a case lifted his spirits more than they had been in weeks. “Samuel has been handling the face to face negotiations?”
“Among other things, but yes, he was Nathan’s stand-in for this case. I still think that was only because you were busy with the Atlay counter-suit when the offer came in, and I was elbow deep in patent filings for Ramirez.”
Victor shrugged. “Samuel has his uses. But it is more comforting to think it would have been you or me if we hadn’t been occupied.”
He knew Evie agreed even as she continued, “When Samuel spoke to Nathan this morning, he said something about meeting with a Matt Desai last night. Nathan was obviously not happy, so I looked him up.”
That made Victor perk an eyebrow. “I don’t remember the last time Nathan was visibly not happy.”
“Considering we set a high bar, I’d say that’s entirely on Samuel.” She absently tapped her fingers against her opposite wrist. “He’s an upper mid-level manager of a shipping subsidiary here in Philadelphia.”
Victor waited patiently, with one eyebrow still raised, for the final detail hinted at by Evie’s conspiratorial tone.
He held out longer than she did, although Evie made a better effort than most. She kept herself as composed as possible as she delivered the final puzzle piece. “Their parent company is Shaw Industries.”
The elevator pinged as it arrived, saving him from needing to respond immediately. Victor stepped forward, holding his arm across the doorway so Evie could enter without concern of the doors closing. He followed her inside and then pressed the button for two floors above.
The doors had finished shutting when Victor settled on a response. “Do we have exposure?”
“Considering Samuel’s office is still occupied, I’m going with no.” Evie glanced at Victor as the elevator began slowing, the ride a short one.
There were rules of conduct they were all required to obey. If Samuel did what Evie thought he’d done, their client could be accused of breaking the law. And the firm, as well as Samuel himself, might be at risk.
At risk of being brought up on charges and possibly found guilty. The reputation of Crispin & Hawke would be publicly damaged at best, crippled at worst. You didn’t get to become a senior associate without understanding that your actions reflected on the firm, which made the meeting even more curious. Samuel might be reckless at times, but this bordered on career suicide. It didn’t add up.
“Best I can offer right now is to keep my eyes and ears open.” Victor didn’t like discussing what-ifs, and there were far too many unknowns to speculate productively. It was possible the SI manager was the one who set up the meeting, or that he and Samuel were old friends, or two people who happened to run into one another without knowing they sat on opposite sides of a negotiating table. Questionable reasons, but none that would put their relationship with their client in jeopardy or risk the scrutiny of the justice department.
“One of these days you’ll get better at picking a side,” Evie said. “You can’t always be Switzerland.”
“My history should tell you how very much not Switzerland I am when it comes to Samuel.” The elevator doors slid open, and Victor reached past them to hold his arm where the sensors would know not to close. “I simply have no desire to stick my neck out before knowing what we’re dealing with.”
“We’re dealing with an egotist who has just as much design as we do for making junior partner. And it would be nice if you realized it would be easier to get rid of him before that happens.” Evie walked out first, leaving her statement echoing around them. It wasn’t the first time she’d made that observation about Samuel, but Victor knew Nathan wouldn’t have chosen the three of them to be his senior associates if they didn’t all bring something to the table.
Not adding fuel to the fire, both remained quiet with their own thoughts as they walked down the familiar halls to where Nathan’s office sat in a corner of the building.
The aesthetic of Crispin & Hawke was modern-rustic. That meant most of the walls were clear glass, filling the entire floor with an abundance of natural light. The only opaque sections were ones that separated each office from another. Wood tones filled the spaces in between, fastening the glass and solid walls to each other. When it was sunny, like today, it reminded Victor of the Kimmel Center, his second favorite building in the entire city. All in all, it was a pleasant space to work in.
Today the view had an added highlight, with the bonus of not including Samuel Drake.
Nathan Mortimer stood beside the small conference table in his office as his associates approached. His suit jacket had been removed, draped over the chair behind his desk, and he was leaning over the table inspecting the collection of folders spread out on top. Tall and broad-shouldered, Victor noticed his tie was loosened, giving him a far more casual appearance than he typically projected.
It also made the belt draw attention to his waistline, where it pulled his pants snuggly over his hips.
Chastising himself for the observation, Victor reminded himself, again, that this was a man he admired. A lawyer who managed to keep a sound code of conduct despite the many times they were tasked with bending the law on behalf of their clients. Shrewd but personable, Nathan was a stern taskmaster who made certain his subordinates knew he expected nothing less than their best while also genuinely believing they could deliver. Victor had looked up to Nathan from the first time he’d worked with the man.
Although that was becoming more difficult ever since his attraction to Nathan started manifesting in increasingly frequent moments.
Evie walked into the office without hesitation, bypassing Martin – Nathan’s secretary – with an exchanged wave. Victor followed a few steps behind, not wanting to advertise where his mind had drifted.
Nathan didn’t look up, so Evie started their introduction. “If it’s a bad time, we can come back.”
“No, that’s quite alright. Not as though any of this is going somewhere.” Nathan moved the paper beneath his hand, putting it onto a pile of other documents. That being enough to remind him where he’d left off, he stepped back from the table and looked at Evie and Victor. “I take it you both signed the paperwork?”
“We did. Although I almost chastised this one for not reading it before he signed it.” Evie was definitely in a good mood.
“That says more about my implicit trust in you than any lack of prudence about what I sign,” Victor said before addressing Nathan. “We’re both getting up to speed on the case. You wanted to see us?”
Nathan nodded. “There have been bumps in the road. Not more than usual for this sort of acquisition and less than Shaw Industries’ reputation would have me expect. But we’ve hit a wall in a few instances and I need someone fresh to look over the offer.”
“There seem to be two of us,” Victor responded.
Nathan smiled. It was warm and harbored hints of amusement. Victor felt himself flush and did his best not to draw extra attention to it.
“There are two of you because Samuel has been at this for weeks and I need a fresh perspective in two days.” Nathan crossed the room toward his desk.
Victor made certain to step well out of his way, which sidled him closer to Evie than he might have intended. She cast a glance at him before moving toward Nathan’s desk. “Two days is a little short,” she said.
&nbs
p; “I’m aware.” Nathan opened a desk drawer and withdrew a piece of paper with what appeared to be printed instructions. “I’ve narrowed down the places I want you to look. I’ll leave it to the two of you to decide which ones you’ll assess individually.”
Evie took the paper, eyes skimming over the list. “First thing on Friday?”
“We have a meeting on the books with John Harper set for ten A.M. on Friday. I’ll expect you both in here before nine to walk me through what you’ve found.”
Victor knew from all the paperwork that John Harper was Bechtel System’s CEO. “That won’t be a problem,” he said, glancing at the papers in Evie’s hands. “Have they sorted out their investment conflict with Shaw’s current holdings?”
Nathan leveled him with an exasperated looked. Evie tried to keep herself from showing her amusement.
In one statement, Victor had confessed he had already been looking at the case files, which were not off limits in any measure, but it wasn’t Victor’s case before today. He shouldn’t have been looking at them.
Nathan didn’t bother saying any of that. Instead, he sighed and said, “Yes. SI is divesting so Bechtel’s holdings can remain whole.”
“I would have recommended Bechtel to split their positions. If Shaw wanted them that badly, they would have notified the FTC while keeping controlling interest after the acquisition.”
Evie chimed in. “Even with notice, there are certain things the FTC would not agree to.”
“They wouldn’t,” Victor said, “If a certain CEO wasn’t good friends with the FTC commissioner.”
Both Evie and Nathan looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. Victor shrugged, purposely casual. “James Atlay took me to lunch after we settled his counter-suit and at the restaurant, I saw Shaw sitting with a man who could have been the commissioner’s twin. There was a brief introduction as we left, and I learned it wasn’t a twin at all.”
Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose and took a moment to process what Victor had told them. It didn’t matter much now who was friends with who, but it was valuable information to have. It didn’t take much longer for them to round out their impromptu meeting, and Evie and Victor left with a firm understanding of what Nathan expected of them. Even the unspoken ones. ’No more surprises.’
