Waiting for Cary Grant

by Mary Matthews

  Stephanie relaxed completely. Melvin wasn’t a bad guy after all.

  “What do you have that shows the Company knew about this problem?”

  “Documents I found.”

  “Stephanie, put them all together. And bring them to me. I want to see this taken care of right away. I don’t want to see anyone hurt.”

  Stephanie pulled every multipiece wheel file. The office grew cold. She wanted to go home. But she kept going through the files. It was her job, her identity, her life. And she wanted to do it well.

  Her neck ached. Groggily, she twisted around, slowly realizing she’d fallen asleep at her desk. It would take a few more all nighters to get her back in college form. And judging from the number of multipiece wheel cases, she’d need them.

  “Is this everything?” Mel asked.

  “Yes.” Stephanie woke up, still sitting in her desk chair.

  Mel flipped quickly through all the documents. “Did you go through all your cases?”

  “Absolutely. I created a form with a summary and—”

  “—You’re fired.” Mel said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Stephanie, I don’t want to even go into the list of horrors. Everyone has complaints about you. I don’t think you can handle the cases. You just don’t have the legal talent or ability.” His hand trembled.

  “Today’s your last day. I know you’re going to think this is personal. But it’s not. You’re fired.”

  “Why?”

  “I said that I don’t want to go into the list of complaints”

  “Why wasn’t I ever given notice of these complaints?”

  “I don’t give notice. I lead by example.” His eyes had an odd glint.

  Stephanie began to take notes.

  Melvin looked nervously at her pen. “I have to go to a meeting.” He said.

  “A. A. I hope.”

  “You are a bitch. Leave your keys on my desk. This isn’t personal. Don’t flatter yourself. You don’t date much.”

  “I date all of my documents.” Stephanie looked at the file in his hand.

  “You don’t date men much. I heard you didn’t want to go out with Rick Fleming. He thought you were really good looking and he was interested. You don’t date much. I don’t think it’s good for your self-esteem.”

  Stephanie thought the problem had to be Melvin’s self esteem.

  Everyone in the office had seemed unusually excited and expectant the day before. Like hungry vultures, they instinctively sensed a carcass nearby. She thought of the male associates who handled half as many cases for twice as much money.

  She thought of all the arbitrators that Melvin claimed were completely biased against defense lawyers. When she received defense verdicts from all of them, he’d been furious. She should have quit then. There was no way she could have won with these guys.

  But now, she wanted only to keep him talking. Anything would be better than the humiliation that waited outside that door. So, she asked him:

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think that you have the intelligence to handle complicated cases. Stephanie, there are a few things I like about you personally.”

  The arrogance surprised her. He thought she cared if he liked her personally.

  “I hope you can continue to be a lawyer. I know that you like being a lawyer.”

  She realized that he was right. She liked being a lawyer. Probably more than he did.

  “I’m going to have to leave early today.” He looked like he needed a drink.

  He blocked her exit. She tried to reach around him and open the door.

  “Melvin, I’m not going to do this dance with you.”

  “Yes. You are.” He put a hand up to her neck. He continued to block the door. She couldn’t breathe. Her neck hurt and she started to gasp.

  The door was knocking. Mel’s current secretary was trying to enter.

  “Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking.” He opened the door and yelled at her.

  “Hi Stephanie.” Linda gave her a suspicious look. Who knows what went through her brain.

  Stephanie took the chance to flee. The extra documents she’d copied to make Linda’s life easier were in the corner. She shoved them under her coat.

  “It’s time to go.” Melvin stood in the doorway with a burly security guard.

  “Can’t I get my things? What about my pictures? What about my diplomas?” She gestured with her free hand. The other one clutched the documents under her coat. She was starting to sweat. She felt the papers slipping. And she didn’t dare move them.

  “We’ll send you your diplomas. If you still have an address.” Melvin chuckled.

  “Do you want me to help you with your coat?” The security guard looked like he felt sorry for her.

  “No. I’m okay.”

  Melvin opened her desk drawer and whipped out her purse.

  “That’s it. You’re out of here,” he said.

  She moved slowly toward the door. The documents kept slipping further under her hand. She wished she could stop sweating.

  Mel pinched her neck when she walked by. “Don’t forget what I said.” He grabbed her arm. She felt the papers move.

  Stephanie gulped. “Okay.”

  She walked past the secretaries whose gloating faces said it all. She realized for the first time that Melvin’s unwanted fixations on her had garnered their jealousy. She’d been too busy doing her job to notice. Who had taught her that doing a good job would be enough? She’d been too busy doing a good job to notice a lot of things.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  She immediately went home to curl up in a fetal position for the rest of her life. Clicking on the remote for a Cary Grant movie would require more energy than she could muster. She heard a knock at the door.

  “Sorry, it’s a mess.” Stephanie waved her hand across the living room now scattered with papers, job ads and half empty cups of coffee.

  “The decorative shoes are an interesting touch,” Harlan said. “Nice pumps.” He picked up a red high heeled pair she’d left on the floor.

  “Want a glass of champagne?” She laughed for the first time since the firing.

  “Sure.” He watched her take out two crystal glasses from a polished cupboard.

  “They said I didn’t fit in with them.”

  “It’s a compliment, Stephanie,” Harlan said.

  “Thanks. I’ll take it all the way to the unemployment line.”

  “You were trying to be a mean insurance lawyer. But you’re not,” Harlan said.

  “A toast to the rest of my career.” She poured two glasses of Champagne. “Whatever it may be.” Stephanie smiled wanly.

  “Don’t say that. You’re a sharp lawyer. I’ve read your stuff. You’re a multi-talented lady.” Harlan touched Stephanie’s arm with his fingers as she handed him a generous glass of Champagne.

  “Thanks. From you, that means a lot,” Stephanie said.

  “Here’s something for you. I’d call it a present but you earned it. I wanted to bring it over.”

  Stephanie read the letter of recommendation from her most formidable opponent.

  “Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’ve been wronged. You have empathy for Plaintiffs. Be a Plaintiffs’ lawyer.”

  “I don’t know if I could.” She bit her nails.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s hard.”

  “What could be hard for a multi-talented lady like you?”

  She wanted to tell him about Melvin’s threat but she was scared. Scared for herself. And scared for him. “It’s a leap. I’m sorry, Harlan.” She wanted to tell him. She reached for his arm and felt the sinewy muscles underneath his white silk shirt.

  “Sorry for what?” He asked.

  “I always thought Plaintiffs were parasites on the food chain.”

  He grimaced. “Some are—”

  “—not Kathy, I mean—”

&
nbsp; “— some are parasites, Stephanie. I agree. But every time I look at Kathy, I want to kill someone.” He smashed his fist into the sofa.

  She jumped up and started picking up the scattered papers. Anything to escape this moment. She pulled a trash bag out and began to throw away the amazing amount of clutter she’d accumulated in only forty eight hours of dropping everything on the floor. If she couldn’t clean up her life by telling Harlan, she could at least clean up the house.

  “Don’t worry about that now. Sit down,” he said gently.

  “I feel like such a mess. Like such a loser.” She started to cry.

  “You’re okay.” He rubbed her back.

  “Other than being a failure in every aspect of my life, you mean?” She cried.

  “I don’t think so. You’re not too bad to look at, you know. And give me that. You’re too good looking to take your own trash out. Men can be useful. You should have one.” He took the trash bag from her.

  “Wait,” she said, throwing more papers in the bag.

  “Now update your resume. Here’s to you, Stephanie.” He raised his glass in a toast to her.

  When he finished his champagne and left, just like a guy, with her trash, Stephanie sat down at her computer.

  Harlan Michaels had called her multi-talented. She smiled as she began to update her resume.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Mel nursed a hangover at his desk. He’d stop drinking today. At least, until tonight.

  “Someone made copies last night.” Linda’s voice blared several decibels too loud for human contact. Among her self-assigned job duties, Linda counted paper clips, xerox papers and post its for the day she confronted any dangerous office thief.

  “I always count the number of blank pages in the xerox room before I go home.” Linda leaned over and caught a whiff of last night’s gin on Melvin’s breath.

  “Alright, Linda. Go get me some coffee.” Mel motioned with his hand for her to go away. The old hag was so annoying.

  “I thought you’d want to know. I’m still counting.”

  “Do it at your desk,” Mel said, smiling at the thought of Stephanie working late oblivious to the ax about to fall on her neck.

  “So far, I think over three-hundred sheets of paper are missing,” Linda said.

  What had the little bitch taken? Where was she? Melvin wondered.

  He tried Stephanie’s phone numbers and listened to her voice mail at each one. Cursing, he threw the phone against the wall. Then he barked at Linda to put it back in its receiver.

  “Stephanie was a cute girl,” Linda said.

  “I never noticed. To me, she was an attorney. Like all the others.” Mel replied.

  “Why did you fire her?” Linda asked.

  “I can’t go into specifics.” Mel was starting to sweat. Linda wondered if Mel was an alcoholic. He had the bloated, puffy look of one.

  “A good lawyer—”

  “—who says she’s a good lawyer?” Melvin’s face reddened.

  “Harlan Michaels,” Linda said.

  “I don’t give a fuck what Harlan Michaels says! I don’t give a fuck about Harlan Michaels or Stephanie St. Claire!” Melvin fumed. So Harlan had complimented that little bitch.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  “Mr. Michaels, would you like to give an opening statement?” Judge Franklin, two-hundred pounds of testosterone, bellowed from the bench.

  “Yes, your Honor.” He stood up in an impeccable dark blue Italian suit that draped his body with the reverence usually reserved for statues.

  “Wait a minute. Excuse me your Honor. May I approach the bench?” Taylor Stanworth asked.

  “This better be important.” Judge Franklin bellowed.

  “There hasn’t been a ruling on my motion. This purported Safety Tire memo about a safer multipiece wheel should be excluded. It’s more prejudicial than probative. And he can’t lay the foundation. The supposed writer of it, Adam Banks, is in France and he doesn’t know anything about it.”

  “Motion granted. Mr. Michaels, you can’t introduce the memo showing that a safer design would have cost a few bucks more. I won’t allow it.” Judge Franklin commanded.

  “Your Honor, that document is my case!”

  “I have made my ruling. Proceed Mr. Michaels.”

  Harlan slowly walked towards the jury and smiled. He’d go down fighting.

  “Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen. This is my opportunity to tell you about the evidence in this case. I’m going to give you a little background in this case. The Slades were a blessed family. Tom and Caroline Slade met as undergraduates at U.S.C. He was in the dental school. She was in the dental hygiene program. Within a few weeks of meeting, they each knew they’d met the person with whom they were destined to spend the rest of their lives.

  They married after he graduated. Tom heard about an opportunity here in town for a new dentist. Some of you may have known Dr. Bennet. He was my dentist when I was a kid. That seems like Dinosaur years now. I remember him because he had great parting toys. The receptionist would tell you to pick just one. But I could never decide between two or three. So, he used to come out again and tell me that I could go ahead and take two or three. And I loved him for it.” Harlan Michaels smiled and gave the jury a glimpse of a cute young boy.

  “Dr. Bennet was a generous contributor to the community. When he retired to a ranch in Colorado, he couldn’t have been happier to turn his practice over to a newly graduated and married young dentist. And so, the Slades thrived. For the first few years, Caroline worked a couple days a week as a dental hygienist. Then, she had the twins. They were an armful. But the Slades felt doubly blessed. Two beautiful healthy boys, a burgeoning practice for him, she’s able to stay home and devote herself to the boys, could life get any better? Yes. It could. A couple years later, Caroline most unexpectedly found herself pregnant with Kathy. Tom had always wanted a little girl who looked like the wife he loved. They welcomed their baby girl with the comforts that came with a now established practice. Their lives became a happy blur of play dates and camping trips. They were a healthy family, supporting each other while encouraging friendships with others, and independence.

  Kathy blossomed into a spunky girl with boundless energy and a capacity to befriend everyone she met. She had the security of a little girl who’s loved by her father. At school, she made straight A’s while starring in her grade’s annual play. The evidence will show that all that has changed. Today, Kathy is painfully shy.

  She lives in a boarding school where she does her best to adjust to a new religion and new friends and no bedroom of her own. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying this is a stark place right out of a Charles Dickens’ novel. It’s an upscale school run by modern nuns who have a genuine concern for the children placed in their care. But the evidence will show you the difference between being the adored baby in a family and being one of a student body boarded in a convent school because for the most part, their parents and guardians have better things to do than raise them, is overwhelmingly painful.

  Tom and Caroline didn’t revel alone in their incredible fortune at health, happiness and financial success. They cared about others. If Grandma needed company, they would be the first to visit.

  And so, they went to visit Grandma. Kathy had a play date to go roller blading with a friend she’d met at computer camp the summer before. Tom and Caroline encouraged their children to pursue interests and value friendships. So they let Kathy keep her play date and skip the visit with Grandma. Today, Kathy can’t even bear to communicate with this friend anymore. Her email goes unanswered.

  At the time the accident happened, Kathy had a full calendar. From the entire fifth grade class at her school, she had been picked to star in the play for that year. She was a vivacious, intellectually curious, and energetic child. The evidence will show that all of that has changed.

  But in their corporate towers, sipping expensive Scotch, they found a way to avoid a multi-million doll
ar recall. They contributed generously to someone’s campaign.”

  “Objection!”said Stanworth as he sprang like an old fashioned jack-in-the-box toy from his chair.

  “Mr. Michaels?” asked Judge Franklin.

  “On what grounds?” asked Harlan Michaels.

  “Counsel, please approach the bench.”

  Stanworth turned and glared at Michaels before he sauntered as jauntily as possible up to the bench. Whatever Harlan Michaels may have been feeling, he looked impenetrable and remote.

  “I don’t want politics in my courtroom. Be very, very careful about straying into argument during opening statement, counsel. I will not hesitate to knock out any punitive damage award based on jury prejudice. Unless you have direct evidence, you had best stay out of this arena. My courtroom is not a forum for your unsubstantiated liberal diatribe! I will knock out any punitive award by a jury polluted by liberal diatribe!”

  “Your Honor, I don’t speak in diatribes. I’m stating what the evidence will show.”

  “You be very careful, Mr. Michaels.”

  Harlan strode back into the courtroom like a lion reclaiming his jungle. Kathy beamed as Harlan looked at her. Nervous with strangers since the accident, she’d been fidgeting in the hard-back brown chair. Harlan bestowed instant calm.

  “I’ve gone to visit Kathy in boarding school. As institutionalized upbringings go, she may be better off than some. Whatever your feeling about their religious bent, give the nuns credit for genuine concern about the welfare of children in their care. I’m going to be showing you a time line through this trial. It will be very important. First, we have the date Safety Tire manufactured these wheels.” Harlan wrote on the board.

  “In that same year, Safety Tire recorded two patents that could have been used with this wheel. I say could have been because they weren’t used with the wheel.

  And this is very important. The reason they weren’t used, their own former Chief Executive Officer admitted to me in Provence, despite the fact that they were safer, was that they cost more money. A safer patent would have cost exactly a few bucks more. Remember that figure. Because a few bucks made a difference in one family’s life.” Harlan walked over to the chart that had Safety Tire at the top and drew a line through the S so that it became a dollar sign. Sacrifice safety for dollars.