In Firm Pursuit

by Pamela Samuels Young

“It’s not a good idea for me to look at that report,” I continued. “If anyone ever asks me if I’ve seen it, I want to be able to say I haven’t.”

  Disappointment resurfaced on Norma’s face. Her shoulders fell and she started to rise from the bench.

  “No, wait,” I said, gently touching her forearm. “I’m only saying I don’t want to read it myself. Why don’t you read it to me instead?”

  CHAPTER 47

  That same night, Special sat quietly in her hot-pink bedroom, perched on the edge of her king-size bed, contemplating a very important decision. Should she look at the nanny cam tape she had retrieved from Jefferson’s office or toss it into the trash and forget the whole thing?

  Special had debated that question for most of the day and hadn’t gotten a lick of work done. While she didn’t know whether she should look at the tape, there was one thing she was one-hundred-percent sure about. If she found out that Jefferson was screwing around with LaKeesha, she had no intention of telling Vernetta about it. She knew from experience that women did not like hearing from other women—even their closest friends—that their men were not all that.

  After sitting there for a few more minutes, her curiosity won out. She said a quick prayer, then pressed the small tape into a special cartridge and slid it into the VCR machine underneath the TV at the foot of her bed. She positioned herself cross-legged on her Donna Karan bedspread and stared at the remote control for several seconds, giving herself one last chance to back out. She took a long, deep breath, then hit the Play button.

  The first few seconds of the video were dark and grainy, then a much lighter static shot of the inside of the trailer came into view. The picture wasn’t great, but Special could make out herself and Jefferson inside the trailer. Stan walked in a few seconds later. Special turned up her nose as she watched Stan kiss her on the cheek.

  Once Special left the trailer, Stan started going on and on about what a good time he was going to have taking her out to dinner. A shiver went through her as she listened.

  “Man, you think she’ll let me hit it tonight?” Stan asked, slobbering with excitement.

  “Forget it,” Jefferson warned. “Special’s way out of your league.”

  “You’re underestimating me, my brother. If a man’s willing to put enough cash on the table, he can get any woman he wants.”

  “Stan, you could put the entire Bank of America on the table and Special still ain’t giving you none,” Jefferson said.

  Special smiled. “Whew! Thank you, brother-in-law!” she said out loud.

  After a few more minutes of braggadocios talk by Stan, they both headed for the door. The tape went dark when Jefferson turned out the lights.

  Special picked up the remote and fast-forwarded through several hours of video until the picture lightened up again. She shook her head at the sight of Stan walking into the trailer carrying three boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. She zipped past him making coffee and studying some blueprints, but stopped the tape when LaKeesha entered the trailer. She was wearing jeans and a green T-shirt, which she had tied into a knot at the waist.

  Special grimaced. “That girl’s breasts are going to be dragging the ground by the time she’s thirty if somebody don’t teach her ass to wear a bra!”

  She watched in disgust as Stan stared at LaKeesha’s chest, which LaKeesha pretended not to notice. When the girl bent over to get something from the refrigerator, Stan gawked at her ass.

  “Old dog!” Special shouted at the television screen.

  Stan gave LaKeesha some actual work to do, then left. Jefferson walked in about five minutes later.

  Special picked up the remote and turned up the volume. The first thing she noticed was that LaKeesha and Jefferson seemed to be ignoring each other. Special hit the Pause button. She was certain Jefferson had not said hello to the girl when he walked in, but maybe she had missed it. She rewound the tape, hit Play again and listened more closely. She was right. Jefferson had not said a word to LaKeesha and LaKeesha had not acknowledged him either.

  “Dang!” Special said, slapping her hand against her thigh. “Something definitely went down between them two.”

  As the tape continued to roll, Special noticed that every few seconds, LaKeesha looked over at Jefferson, as if she were trying to catch him watching her. Apparently irritated because he was not, LaKeesha walked over to Jefferson’s desk. She stood in front of him, nothing but attitude on her face. Jefferson pulled a tablet from a side drawer and started writing, ignoring her.

  “You know,” LaKeesha said, “your wife didn’t look nothing like I thought she would. She’s cute and all, but I expected you to be with somebody much hotter. You can do a lot better.”

  Jefferson stopped writing. “I’m busy right now,” he said without looking up.

  “And her bitchy little friend with the stupid ass name, she has some serious issues.”

  Special hit the Pause button and hopped off the bed. “I should drive down there right now and whip that heffa’s ass!” She closed her eyes, counted to five, then hit Play again.

  “I was talking to one of my friends about you last night,” LaKeesha said, smiling down at Jefferson. “She told me I should sue you for sexual harassment.”

  This time, Special hit the Pause button and fell back onto the bed. “No! No! No! No! No!” So Jefferson had screwed the girl. How could he be so stupid?

  Special did not think she could handle watching the rest of the tape without a drink. She rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator. After removing the cork, she opened the cabinet to look for a wineglass, then changed her mind. She did not need a glass. She would probably have to drink the whole bottle after hearing what else LaKeesha had to say.

  Back in the bedroom, Special sat down on the edge of the bed and hit the Rewind button. She listened a second time as LaKeesha told Jefferson that she should sue him for sexual harassment. Jefferson took a long time to respond. He started writing again, while LaKeesha leered at him. After almost a full minute, Jefferson slowly pushed his chair back from his desk and looked up at her.

  “You can’t sue me for sexual harassment, LaKeesha, because I haven’t harassed you,” he said calmly.

  “I know you didn’t harass me,” LaKeesha said, smiling deviously. “But in a court of law, it’s my word against yours. And who do you think they’re going to believe? The cute, young college student or the older, married man whose wife is out of town?”

  Special’s mouth fell open. She hit the Pause button again. So Jefferson hadn’t been with LaKeesha! Thank you, Jesus! Special was so relieved she wanted to cry. She took a long, sloppy chug from the wine bottle, almost choking as wine doused her blouse. When she was done coughing, she hit Play again.

  Jefferson could only stare at LaKeesha, his face a mixture of anger and shock.

  “This is what we’re going to do,” LaKeesha said, tossing a handful of braids over her shoulder. “I think I need a raise. Five hundred dollars a month ought to do it—for now. Otherwise, I’m going to call a lawyer and tell him I’ve been sexually harassed by my boss, who owns a successful electrical contracting company.”

  “But you don’t have a case,” Jefferson said, still playing it cool.

  “I’ll make one up,” LaKeesha fired back, both hands gripping her hips. “So pull out that checkbook and start writing.”

  At first, Jefferson just sat there. Then he exhaled and his whole body seemed to droop in defeat. He pulled some keys from the pocket of his jeans and unlocked the middle drawer of his desk. When Special saw what she recognized as a business-size checkbook, she jumped off the bed.

  “You better not give that bitch a dime!” Special yelled at the television screen. She watched in horror as Jefferson scribbled across a check, tore it out of the checkbook and held it out to LaKeesha.

  Jefferson got up. “Here’s what we owe you, plus an extra week,” he said, his voice angry, but not raised. “Now get your shit and get the fuck
out. You’re fired.”

  LaKeesha dropped her arms to her side, stunned. She snatched the check from him. “You think I won’t sue you?” she screamed. “I will! I swear, I will!”

  “Bring it on,” Jefferson said. “I’m married to a lawyer, remember? And if you think she’ll believe anything you say over what I tell her, you’ve got it all wrong. Now get out.”

  LaKeesha grabbed her book bag from behind Stan’s desk. “My lawyer’ll be calling you!”

  Jefferson smiled at her. “Like I said, bring it on.”

  LaKeesha stormed out, slamming the trailer door behind her.

  Jefferson sat back down, planted his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands. He closed his eyes and his lips started moving, but the tape did not pick up his words. If Special didn’t know better, she could have sworn the man was praying. Jefferson got up after a couple of minutes and poured himself a cup of coffee, grabbed a long tube from the corner, then walked out of the trailer.

  Special hit the Stop button on the remote control and took another long swig from the wine bottle.

  “You did good, brother-in-law,” she said, her pulse still racing from all the excitement. “You did really, really good.”

  CHAPTER 48

  It took me by complete surprise when O’Reilly invited me for lunch two days after my trip to San Diego.

  “How’s it going, kiddo?” O’Reilly asked as he greeted me in the patio of the McCormick & Schmick’s seafood restaurant across from our office building. He was already seated when I got there, but rose to give me a light embrace.

  We engaged in small talk while browsing the menu. O’Reilly ordered a glass of white wine and his usual, the seafood salad. I ordered the same, minus the wine.

  “So what’s the real reason you invited me to lunch?” I finally asked. O’Reilly had barely spoken to me since my inquisition in his office just over a week ago. I was certain he had not extended this invitation just to shoot the breeze.

  “What’re you talking about? I don’t need a reason to invite my favorite associate to lunch,” he said.

  My eyebrows fused in skepticism.

  “Okay, Vernetta, you’re much too smart for me.” O’Reilly took a sip of wine. “I won’t beat around the bush. Micronics wants you back on the Randle case.”

  I was momentarily stunned but quickly recovered. “Really? Even though they think I’m sleeping with the enemy?”

  “C’mon, nobody thinks that. This was all a crazy mix-up. They realize now that nothing was going on between you and Hamilton Ellis. They really want the case settled and they think you can get the job done. We’ve tried to talk settlement, but Hamilton Ellis insists on dealing only with you. I told those boneheads at Micronics that they never should’ve taken you off the case.”

  Sure you did.

  I suddenly remembered my conversation with Norma Brown and wanted to throw up. I had tried to convince myself that I had no obligation to report what she had told me since I was no longer handling the Randle case. But I couldn’t even sell that faulty logic to myself. Even if I wasn’t on the case anymore, I still had an ethical obligation to advise a client of the firm that one of its employees had unauthorized possession of a highly confidential legal memo.

  The memo provided a clear explanation for Micronics’s haste to resolve the case. It was a case analysis prepared by the General Counsel and addressed to the CEO, with a copy to Rich Ferris, the VP of HR and Nathaniel Hall, the Chief Financial Officer. It highlighted the obvious flaws in the Randle case, such as the lack of eyewitnesses to the incident, Randle’s excellent work history, and the six white employees who’d engaged in sexual harassment that the company had not fired. Micronics’s most immediate concern, according to the memo, was avoiding media attention concerning Randle’s complaints of billing irregularities.

  The memo noted that fifteen years earlier, the company had been the target of a federal investigation that uncovered dozens of billing irregularities on a Navy contract. It was the kind of investigation that made great headlines, like a one-thousand-percent markup on a fifty-cent bolt. The media blitz and fines that followed sent Micronics’s stock price into a high-speed nosedive. The memo warned that if the media picked up on Randle’s allegations, it could prompt government investigators to take a closer look at not only Micronics’s billing practices on the GAP-7 Program, but other programs as well.

  The memo troubled me a great deal. It was yet another document that had been withheld from me. One that conclusively showed that Ferris knew about the other sexual harassment cases, but had lied to Porter about it. It also tended to support Henry Randle’s claim that Micronics wanted him and his complaints of fraud hushed up. But had they actually framed him to achieve that end?

  “How about it?” O’Reilly asked. He glanced past me to eye a tall brunette with legs up to her neck, wearing a skirt the size of a paper towel.

  “This is a new one,” I said. “I didn’t know associates were allowed to pick and choose their cases.” I felt like a rat trapped in a maze. If I reported Norma’s conduct now, I would be chastised for not coming forward sooner, destroying any chance I had of making partner, if one still existed. If I refused to rejoin the case, the result would be the same. I would just have to keep my mouth shut and pray that Norma did, too.

  “C’mon, Vernetta, don’t give me such a hard time. We could order you back on the case, but I have too much respect for you as a lawyer to do it that way. The client made a mistake. They need you. The firm needs you.”

  Yeah, right. “Sure, O’Reilly, whatever you want.” I took a sip of water.

  “What I want is a little enthusiasm,” he said.

  “Well, it’s hard to be excited about a case when the client accuses you of making out with the opposing counsel. Is Porter on board with this?” I asked.

  “Yes, of course. He’s looking forward to putting the entire case back in your lap. Haley’s in over her head.”

  As the waiter walked up with our salads, O’Reilly stole another look at the brunette with the long legs. This time he made eye contact and smiled. The woman returned an even bigger smile.

  “What’s going on with the case now?” I asked.

  “I understand there’ve been some significant developments. Haley was fishing around on the Internet and found some troubling information about Randle’s background. And the Micronics Security Department went through some surveillance tapes and also came up with some useful stuff.”

  “Like what?” I asked, my interest piqued.

  “I don’t know all the details, but as I understand it, we’re serving a motion to amend Micronics’s answer to assert the after-acquired evidence rule.” He glanced at his watch. “The motion is being served on Ellis and Jenkins right about now.”

  I had used the after-acquired evidence rule once before to get a wrongful termination case dismissed based on evidence discovered after the employee had been discharged. “The information Haley found must’ve been pretty good,” I said.

  “Apparently so.”

  “Is Micronics still willing to spend whatever it takes to settle the case?” I asked.

  O’Reilly nodded.

  “That can only mean they have something to hide.”

  “Name me one of our clients who doesn’t have something to hide.” O’Reilly reached for the basket of sourdough bread. “We just need to make the case go away. It’s nothing short of a miracle that the other side hasn’t found out about that woman’s death yet.”

  I wanted to ask O’Reilly about the news reports concerning the GAP-7 Program, but thought better of it. My suspicion that there might be a link to the Randle case was nothing more than a hunch.

  O’Reilly reached over and playfully patted my hand. “C’mon, Vernetta, this is no big deal for you. I’m sure you’ll have the case settled in no time.”

  Being asked to return to the case, at least on the surface, seemed like a plus for me. But I could not shake a gloomy feeling that more bad news might be wa
iting in the wings.

  “Does this mean I’m still on track for partnership?” I asked.

  O’Reilly’s lips curled into an evasive smile. “I don’t recall anyone ever saying you were off track.”

  I tossed the same sly smile back at him. “Can I get that in writing?”

  CHAPTER 49

  “What kinda bullshit is this?” Reggie Jenkins screamed into the telephone.

  I had rushed back to the office after my lunch with O’Reilly to take a look at the motion Haley had filed. Her Internet search had revealed that Randle had been convicted of felony burglary a month before he joined Micronics, some twenty-plus years earlier. Even more problematic for Randle, Micronics’s Security Department had him on tape stuffing confidential documents into his briefcase.

  Reggie must have dialed my number the second he finished reading the motion. I was surprised that he called me since he knew I’d been taken off the case. He had good reason to be upset about the motion, but the intensity of his rage startled me.

  “Reggie, Reggie, temper, temper,” I said. “I guess this means you’ll be opposing the motion?”

  “Absolutely!” Reggie shouted. “You know and I know those assholes at Micronics framed my client. Yet you have the nerve to file this bogus ass motion!”

  “Look, Reggie,” I said, “your client stole some confidential company records before he was terminated and neglected to mention that he was a convicted felon when he filled out his job application. If Micronics had known either fact, he would’ve been fired long before he grabbed Karen Carruthers in that elevator.”

  “My client never touched that bitch!” Reggie yelled so loudly I had to pull the telephone away from my ear. I was relieved that he had yet to mention Carruthers’s death.

  “Reggie, is that language really necessary? Can’t we all just get along?”

  “This ain’t funny,” Reggie snarled. I could almost see the smoke rising from his nostrils through the telephone.