Crash - Part Four

by Miranda Dawson

  “Not really,” I lied. I knew exactly what I wanted to do; the hard part was convincing myself it was the right thing for all parties. I wanted—no, needed—to take down PharmaTech. How could I not, after what they did? But that didn’t make it the right decision. I had no idea what I would be getting into. More importantly, I wasn’t sure if I could live with myself if it all went tits-up and I took John down with me.

  “We don’t need to do anything,” I said. “I shouldn’t let personal issues affect the business, especially not when I have a business partner.”

  “I’m quite capable of making my own decisions,” John said tersely. He didn’t look like he’d had much sleep and his hair was unusually disheveled. “I agree, though. We don’t need to do anything. We were chugging along quite nicely before they got involved, and I’m quite sure we can cope without them if they disappear—uh, business-wise, at least.”

  “My relationship with Carter cannot come into this,” I said, and I meant every word. “We have to make a business decision, first. After that, I will worry about my love life.”

  “I would like to see PharmaTech suffer,” John admitted. “None of what Kerry and Carter told us changes the fact that they were using our information for their own ends. And if all that stuff about the drug is true, then that company is every bit as bad as we thought and then some.”

  I’d tried not to think too much about the faulty birth control pills. Not because it reminded me of how close Carter was to Bella, although that didn’t help, but because it made me angry with PharmaTech. I couldn’t let anger cloud my judgment right now; this was a life-changing decision for John and me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “What for?”

  “This is all my fault. If it hadn’t been for me and my past, none of this would have happened. Kerry and Carter only started playing around with our business because of me. I wish we’d never done that presentation at the conference. I’m sorry I inflicted all this on you.”

  “There’s so much wrong with that, I don’t even know where to start. For one thing, if it weren’t for you, then there would be no business in the first place. I’m just a tech guy. I wouldn’t have known where to start with all this. If I’m honest, without having known you and seen the trouble you went through with your leg, I doubt I would have even been interested in this type of business. But more importantly, I can assure you that PharmaTech would have come after us, anyway. In the end, Kerry was the one to feed them information, but if she hadn’t been around, they would have got it some other way.”

  “You don’t know that,” I replied, though I was grateful for his confidence in me.

  “Oh, come on. This is a company that bribed people to get a drug on the market without proper testing. People have died because of this company, so don’t go blaming yourself.”

  I sighed and slouched down onto the sofa. I didn’t think well in silence and I needed some background noise. I grabbed the remote and switched on the TV. I hardly ever watched it and usually just relied on Netflix or some other streaming service for my binge-watching pleasure. Still, at least there was some noise around me other than my gears turning.

  “Sounds like we are leaning toward fighting them,” John said. He sat down next to me.

  “Yes, but are we doing this for the right reasons? You know this could end in a courtroom.”

  “Well, it’s a good job Judge Judy is on TV right now, then. Maybe we can learn something.”

  I laughed louder than the joke probably warranted, but it was nice to smile again. I had a feeling Judge Judy would be on our side, but I couldn’t see PharmaTech agreeing to have such a big dispute decided on national television.

  I had just gotten interested in the case at hand—some former couple arguing about whether the woman should give an engagement ring back—when a commercial break interrupted the show.

  “If there’s one thing worse than daytime television,” John said, “it’s the adverts on daytime television.”

  We were watching images of a young family frolicking in the sun and enjoying life thanks to some miracle drug that had cured their daughter’s illness. The long list of grim-sounding side effects seems to contradict the happiness of the family, but the whole idea was that you weren’t supposed to think about the negatives, I guess.

  The writing at the bottom of the screen was hard to read because the text was white on a white background, but at the end of the commercial, I caught a glimpse of the company that developed the drug. It was none other than PharmaTech.

  “Did you see that?” John asked.

  I nodded, and then realized John wasn’t looking at me. “Yes. I saw.”

  “I know this sounds stupid, but in all this I kind of forgot they were still pushing drugs out there. I’ve been seeing them as our rivals—and they are—but they are much more than that.”

  “You’re right. They’re marketing drugs to be used on children. How do we know those drugs weren’t pushed through the approval process the same way the one that killed Bella was?”

  “Are you thinking what I am thinking?” John asked.

  I turned and looked at him before giving a slow, deliberate nod. “Let’s go get them.”

  Chapter Four

  “Are you absolutely sure about this?” Carter asked. “Both of you? Because you shouldn’t underestimate what you are getting into. Kerry downplays it sometimes, but this is huge.”

  I had waited another day before messaging Carter with our decision. We figured that if we still hadn’t had any second thoughts after a night’s sleep, then it must mean we had come to the right decision. Carter invited us round to his place again to discuss the next steps, and he’d insisted we get there before Kerry so he could talk to us alone.

  “I’m with Kerry in all this, obviously,” he continued, “but you don’t have to be. There’s still time to back out.”

  “We’re sure, Carter,” I said. “We wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  “But don’t go thinking you’ve gotten away with the whole lying-to-us thing,” John said quickly. “I’m still pissed about that, and you can be damn sure Emily will have some choice words to say to you in private, as well.”

  I nodded, but after making sure that John couldn’t see my face, I smiled at Carter. We’d already had a few conversations over texts where he apologized profusely and swore I knew everything now. Much to my surprise, I hadn’t even been that mad at him. Maybe if he’d used me and our relationship to get information on the business it would have been unforgivable, but he’d rarely asked me for any details and had seemed completely disinterested.

  During his apology, he told me he had compartmentalized the PharmaTech issue from the relationship with me, and looking back on our time together, I could completely believe that. Plus, there was some comfort in seeing how far Carter would go for someone he cared about. If he would do that for Bella, someone he gave up loving a long time ago, I could only imagine how far he would go for me now.

  "First of all," I said once Kerry had arrived, "John and I will be making all the key decisions."

  “We will listen to what you want to do, of course,” John said. “But if we don’t like it, we don’t do it. It’s our company that will be doing the suing, and once we do this, our company name will be on all the official complaints filed with the court. I’m still not entirely comfortable with that, but at least we are the ones filing the suit and not being sued.”

  “We completely understand,” Carter said. “Don’t we, Kerry?”

  Kerry nodded. I wished she would be a little less standoffish with us, but she seemed to like staying behind an emotional barrier. The only times her voice betrayed any emotion was when she was talking about PharmaTech.

  “So, how does this all play out, then?” I asked. “What’s the first step?”

  “First, we need to get a lawyer,” Kerry said. “I know some good ones who have experience in this kind of complex litigation.”

  “We already have a
lawyer,” I said. “Scott’s good, and he has looked after us so far.”

  Despite our speech about how John and I would be making the decisions, Kerry looked to Carter for his opinion on the matter.

  Carter shrugged. “This Scott guy, he works for a big firm, right?”

  “Pretty big, yes.”

  “Then I’m sure that’s fine. As long as they don’t have a conflict of interest by representing PharmaTech in other matters, I am okay with it.”

  “This way, we keep the number of people involved at a minimum,” John said. “Scott already knows some of the details, anyway, because he filed the patent applications.”

  “All right,” Kerry relented. “We’ll keep your lawyer. Unless this Scott guy has any better suggestions, we will try to initiate a lawsuit in military court, first. That will never work—they will have the case removed and sent to another court—but it’s a good first play to get them worried. Companies like PharmaTech have huge contracts with the U.S. government and won’t want their name involved in a dispute with the military.”

  “That’s when the really interesting stuff will start,” Carter said. “They have done so many different things to your business that we can get into federal court.”

  “Why is that so good?” I asked.

  “Because the federal courts in this district have a good record of looking after the small guy and awarding large sums in cases of corporate abuse like this.”

  I had no idea how Carter knew all this stuff, but I suspected the information had come from Kerry. She obviously had substantial resources and had probably done, or paid someone to do, the research before she started down this road.

  “Will the case be heard by a jury?” John asked.

  “Maybe,” Kerry said. “It’s possible, and that will be part of the negotiation. But the actual court case and the trial are just side issues. Most cases don’t make it to court.”

  “So, we’re just doing all this to settle?” I asked.

  “No, not exactly. But the damage will be done before the trial, if there is one. Companies like PharmaTech get hit with lawsuits every day, and most of the cases are easily dismissed or they just settle. With this one, what we want to do is make sure it gets publicity, because that’s where we really do the company—and more importantly, the people in charge of the company—the most harm.”

  “I have some contacts in the press,” Carter said. “At the appropriate time, I will leak a few juicy bits of information to them. Enough to get them taking a closer look at the court filings.”

  “What about the faulty drug?” John asked. “The court case is just going to be about what they did to us, so how we can get information about the drug out there?”

  “I must admit, I don’t have that entirely worked out yet,” Kerry admitted. “Maybe that is where Scott will be able to help us. There will be lots of depositions—which is where we get to ask them questions under oath—and I intend to get them to comment on the drug somehow. Anything they say on the record goes into the court filings, so we just need to get them to trip up once.”

  “There’s something else you need to think about,” Carter said. “It’s nothing to worry about, but whenever you sue someone, the other party nearly always initiates what’s called a counter suit.”

  “But we haven’t done anything wrong,” I said.

  “That doesn’t matter,” he told me, shaking his head. “They will find something, or just make something up.”

  “Why?”

  “Just to put you under pressure and scare you. They will take your deposition and ask lots of questions. Obviously, your lawyer will protect you and make sure you don’t answer any questions you don’t have to. I just wanted to warn you, because they can be quite intimidating.”

  “Bring it on,” John said. “I quite fancy being grilled by expensive lawyers. You never know, I might even get a date out of it.”

  I knew that wasn’t just bravado on John’s part. He really wouldn’t be concerned or nervous about being questioned by lots of men and women in suits. Unfortunately, the thought of that scared me more than I was willing to admit. Even if I could answer their questions, I would still feel nervous. It would be like going for a job interview where you knew you were qualified for the position, but were still worried you would mess it up.

  “So,” Kerry said, “are you two definitely okay with this? It’s going to be a tough battle, but they deserve what’s coming to them.”

  “I’m down for it,” John said. “Let’s get to them and see what that we can dig up.”

  “Emily?” Carter asked. “What about you?”

  I took a deep breath in and slowly exhaled out, trying to control the slight shaking I felt in my body. “I’m in. Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Five

  Over the past couple of days I had seen plenty of Carter, but only when Kerry and John were around. When we were discussing the business, Carter was professional at all times, as if the whole thing were just another business transaction. I suppose it was, in some ways, but it left me frustrated that I hadn’t seen enough of his smile or heard enough of his jokes. I even found myself longing to hear more of his comments—or more accurately, criticisms—on American life.

  Thankfully, once we had all agreed on the plan of action and set up a meeting with Scott, Carter invited me out to dinner at another insanely expensive restaurant that was so out of my price range I had never even heard of it.

  As I got ready, I started to wish I had let him buy me some high-end designer dresses for the evening. Not that I needed to wear them, or even felt comfortable wearing them, but at least I wouldn’t feel quite so out of place in restaurants like the one I was on the way to now.

  Carter had picked a great night for a date. I was having a horrendous day and I really needed to see his face and feel the touch of his hand on mine. When shopping in the morning, I had gone to pay for groceries and noticed that my bank card was missing. I searched everywhere for it at home, assuming I had just left it on my dresser, but after an hour of searching the entire house it was nowhere to be seen. After forking out for groceries, I had $50 in cash on me and my bank promised to get a new one out to me tomorrow. It wasn’t a huge deal until I remembered that without a credit card I couldn’t use the app on my phone to get a ride to the restaurant. Instead, I ended up in one of the overpriced San Francisco taxis that took half of my measly cash from me.

  By the time I got to the restaurant, I was hoping Carter had arrived before me and ordered some drinks because I really needed a glass of wine. Instead I was escorted to an empty table in the back corner of the restaurant. The walls were almost entirely made of glass and I had a great view of the city, although at night it was mainly lights. But still, the frenzied movement of thousands of cars through the streets, like ants bringing food to and from the nest, was kind of fascinating when you sat back and looked at it.

  “Will your friend be here soon, ma’am?” the waiter asked, appearing beside me.

  I glanced at the time on my phone; Carter was fifteen minutes late, which was not like him at all. I didn’t mind too much—my phone and the decent Wi-Fi connection were more than enough to keep me amused—but it wasn’t like him to be late.

  “I just got a message from him saying he was running late,” I lied. “He’ll be here any minute, though.”

  “Would you like to drink while you wait?”

  “Oh, God, yes,” I said. “Just bring me a dry white wine. A large one.”

  “Certainly, ma’am.”

  Once the waiter was out of sight, I sent Carter a message asking him where he was and then went back to answering emails. If I was going to be stuck here by myself, I might as well make the most of the time to be productive.

  “Your friend has still not arrived, ma’am,” the waiter said as he placed my glass of wine on the table. It wasn’t so much a question as an accusation.

  “Traffic must be bad, I guess. You know how it gets in San Francisco.”

&nbs
p; “Quite.”

  The waiter made no effort to hide his displeasure and I made a mental note to tell Carter not to tip as generously as he usually did—assuming he ever actually arrived. He was now thirty minutes late. I sent another message and this time made it clear that I wanted a reply, at the very least. I didn’t mind if we had to cancel or postpone dinner, but I did want him to at least tell me.

  As I sat there alone at the table, I noticed why the waiter was concerned about Carter’s late arrival. The restaurant might have been expensive, but it was popular, and I could already see some disgruntled guests looking less than pleased that I was taking up the best table in the restaurant by myself and not eating. The restaurant was small and I felt like all sets of eyes were on me. Finally a message came through on my phone.

  Sorry, I can’t make it tonight. C.

  That was it. No explanation or excuse at all. The waiter was already on his way over having no doubt noticed the expression on my face.

  “Ma’am, I am very sorry, but it doesn’t look like your friend will be coming this evening.”

  “How much do I owe you for the wine?”

  “I will go bring the check.”

  “Just tell me how much the damn glass of wine cost,” I said, raising my voice just loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear.

  The waiter pulled out his notepad and pen and wrote the price down, as if speaking it aloud would somehow spoil the illusion. I had just enough cash left to pay for my one measly glass of wine, although probably not enough for the tax and tip. I threw all my cash down on the table, picked up the glass, necked back the remaining wine, and then stormed out of the restaurant.

  California was suffering from a drought, so the chances of it raining were slim. But as I said, I was having a really bad day. I ran out of the restaurant and straight into the rain, which was hammering down hard enough that anyone without a strong umbrella was ducking under shelter or running into nearby shops.