Impasse
Page 11
“Not the second floor?”
“We’re on the fifth today. I would have thought an observant girl like you would have noticed the new sign in the lobby.” He gave her a self-satisfied grin.
“Touché. So tell me about Molson.”
“Isn’t that for your spouse to do? He must have a reason for keeping it from you.”
“He probably wants to make sure it’s a done deal before he tells me. He likes to be certain all the i’s are dotted and t’s crossed. He’s like that. But I’m not. I’m the curious type.”
“I see. He’s protecting you. Doesn’t want to get you all worked up if nothing’s going to happen.” Clay’s eyes darted to her and then back up at the floor numbers again.
“But something is going to happen, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t tease.”
“Okay.” Clay gave her a quick summary of the facts and procedural posture of the case. She already knew them by heart; Stu debated them with himself in the shower, and so she’d heard the arguments over and over. Now that the case was done, the only thing she didn’t know was the number. Stu had said the number might be big if they went to trial and won. But they hadn’t gone to trial. They’d settled. Settlements could fetch nothing more than “go away” money, or they could make dreams come true. And from the looks of the remodeled office …
Katherine’s pulse quickened.
“Three million,” Clay said.
Katherine’s heart leaped into her throat. As soon as she was sure she’d heard right, she started doing the math. “That means our third is one million dollars?”
“No,” Clay said.
“No?”
“Three million is our third. One-point-five each.”
“Oh my God! It was nine million?”
“Precisely. I phoned Sylvia today, and she is delighted with her six.”
The old elevator creaked to a stop on the fifth floor, and they exited. Katherine felt like she was floating.
The new office space was spare but sharp, a minimalist style with slim computer terminals instead of paperwork scattered across desks. There were four people in suits that Katherine didn’t recognize tapping away at keyboards with their office doors closed.
“Who are all these people?”
“These are the previously mythical associates of Buchanan, Stark & Associates.”
“You hired more attorneys?”
“Temporarily. For today. And not necessarily attorneys, but they sure look the part, don’t they? Step into our conference room, please, Ms. Stark.”
She entered. He followed, right at her shoulder. A large conference table dominated the room, and twelve chairs surrounded it. The previous conference room was an empty break room with a sink; it had seated five, uncomfortably. Clay took the head of the table. Katherine sat on the side and left an empty seat between them. Given the good news, she had a mad urge to leap across the table and hug his trim, lavender-smelling body, but it was best to keep some distance, she thought.
“You look like you have questions,” he said, and Katherine realized she was staring at him without saying anything.
“There’s so much going on here, I don’t know where to start.”
“That’s exactly how I feel,” Clay replied, smiling. “In fact, it’s a bit overwhelming, but winners plan for success.”
“Stu hasn’t mentioned any of this.”
“He’s been resistant. He doesn’t adjust well to change, you know.”
Katherine giggled. “You’ve got that right.”
“Then you see the genius of my scheme, the reason I sent him to Alaska. He truly does need it. And it’s better if all this is in place before he gets back from his trip. Besides, much of it is just for show. We’ve got a big meeting today.”
“Dugan?”
“Yep. And we need to impress. Bigger is better with men like him. He’ll want to see a show.”
“If you land his business on the heels of the Molson settlement…” Katherine didn’t finish her sentence. Her head was spinning as though she’d had one too many glasses of Aged to Perfection.
“It’s all part of the plan. Success begets success. Imagine you have one-point-five million dollars, but you have to pay your bills with it. Nice. Comfortable. But you’re not rich. Now imagine you have one-point-five million dollars, and your bills are being paid by a second source—monthly fees from Dugan’s corporation, for instance. Now your million-five is spending money. Get it?”
She did get it. This was Stu’s first million. And at forty it wasn’t too late. If Stu had been there she’d have kissed him right in the middle of the office. He wasn’t. But his handsome partner made for a very interesting proxy, she thought. She let her imagination play as Clay sat smiling at her in his fitted suit, allowing her to enjoy the moment.
“I still can’t believe it,” she said at length. “Three million? Stu said it was possible, but I had no idea it could happen this fast.” In fact, Stu had warned her that it would take years of work with no guarantees. It was just like Stu to understate the upside of something, she thought. He made only safe predictions. He also reveled in toil and had a perverse need to earn every penny he made; it came from his parents, who were children of Depression-era farmers. He was uncomfortable with money that didn’t have the stink of sweat on it. For her, however, it was a relief to laugh after all the years of struggle, and she did so freely for the first time in as long as she could remember.
“Clay, I take back all of the bad things I’ve always said about you.”
Clay’s eyes found hers. He leaned toward her, pushing the chair that sat between them out of the way. She sucked in a breath when he put a hand on her knee, but she didn’t protest. He spoke softly but was perfectly audible in the empty room. His tone might have been playful or menacing; it was hard to tell.
“Oh really? Have you been saying bad things, Kate?”
She couldn’t hold his gaze, and blinked. “Just that you’re such a cowboy.”
“That I am. But a lot of people consider cowboys heroes.” He sat back. “And let’s not forget your husband. He’s been a most excellent sidekick.”
Stu as a sidekick was an amusing image. Katherine pictured Clay sitting tall in the saddle, wearing a ten-gallon hat, with the big outlaw Dugan being led behind him with his hands tied to a rope, and Stuart walking alongside in a bowler, like some fussy banker. Stu wasn’t dynamic, fair enough, but he did do all the work. And so, although the comment was funny, it was a touch insulting, too.
“He’s the brains of the operation,” Clay added quickly, not letting the slight stand for more than a moment.
“So you’re comfortable having your brains in Alaska for the big meeting.”
“I don’t need brains for this. I just need you.”
“How so?”
“You represent a ‘partner presence.’”
“I can’t replace Stu.”
“You won’t. You’ll just meet and greet our prospective client. I’ll call him Mr. Dugan, but you call him Reggie. He’ll ask for coffee, black. You’ll get it for him.”
She considered objecting—she wasn’t a serving wench—but then she remembered Clay’s hand in her hair. At the party her own pride had almost kept her from scoring the meeting with Dugan. She’d been hesitant, like Stu, and careful. But Clay wasn’t. He’d been bold. He’d grabbed her and set her on a different path, the path to success. And he’d been right.
Clay was watching her. “I understand your hesitation,” he said. “But Reggie’s old-fashioned, and you have to play people the way they lie. Our goal isn’t to change our clients; it’s to understand them and make them want us. We’re working here. You can be a feminist on your own time.”
Katherine was amazed. It was as though Clay were reading her thoughts, only he wouldn’t let her hold herself back. She wondered if she had been holding back for years. She’d been unyielding in building an image of herself as a progressive, independe
nt woman, and Stu had blindly supported her one-dimensional approach. Now, suddenly, Clay was encouraging her to employ other facets of her womanhood, not as a concession, but as a stratagem. Clay knew how to adapt. Did she? She’d never considered that she could be a modern woman with Stu but put on a retro face for another man and, thereby, play them both.
“Okay,” she agreed. “Today I serve. Where’s Pauline? She can point me to the coffee.”
Clay shook his head.
“You didn’t…”
“Pauline doesn’t face change well either.” His hand was still on Katherine’s knee. His grip was firm but seemed meant to reassure her. “It’s a new day, Kate.”
He left his hand in place until she looked away, and then let it slide off.
“What’s this about a ‘local office’?” Katherine said, changing the subject.
“We opened a branch in Providence just today.”
“Providence? Are you kidding?”
“Don’t be impressed. It’s just a phone book ad with a Providence number. It rings through to the receptionist here. If we get a client on the hook, we rent an office space over there for an hour for an initial consultation. Then we tell them that they are so important, we’re referring them to the home office here.”
“Who’s going to do all that new work?” Stu will, she thought.
Clay anticipated her concern. “The more work we get, the more of it we farm out to ‘associates.’ We’ll bill them at two hundred an hour and pay them one hundred. They become another income stream. There are plenty of young lawyers out there looking for work. That uppity bitch Audra is dying for more hours.”
Katherine couldn’t help herself. She giggled. “She is an uppity bitch. I think she spilled wine on the tablecloth Stu bought me for my birthday.”
“Well, now she can help buy you a new one.”
“You know, I could tell Stu was covering for her.”
Clay lowered his voice. “Do you think they’re fucking?” he said with mock solemnity.
Katherine laughed out loud. The idea of Stu carrying on an affair in his white briefs without her knowledge was as comical and preposterous as a dark-suited attorney saying the word fucking in the middle of a law office. She shook her head. “Puh-leez. Our Stu?”
Clay grinned along with her. “You never know about a man facing a midlife crisis. Is he getting enough at home, Kate?”
The conversation had taken a decidedly raw turn, but Katherine was having fun, and she was about to launch a playful retort—something about being more woman than Stu could handle—when Clay put a finger to her lips to shush her.
Just then Audry herself pushed open the conference room door. The aspiring attorney wore a blue suit for the occasion. Sharp, but definitely off the rack, and probably a size eight, Katherine judged. Maybe even a ten.
“Dugan is here,” Audry said. “Do you want any other ‘associates’ to sit in?”
“No, Audra,” Clay said. “You’ll do fine. Just behave.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And could you get me a cup of tea?”
“Sure. And would you like milk, sugar, or a dollop of piss-off in that?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll go get our budding client.”
Clay winked at Katherine as Audry departed, and he mouthed the word uppity.
Katherine had to suppress another giggle. Dugan was coming.
CHAPTER 18
Audry led Reginald Dugan into the conference room. At six-foot-four he towered over Buchanan, Stark’s petite associate and filled the hallway.
He nodded at Katherine, his broad chest alone wider than her shoulders. “Mrs. Stark, good to see you again.”
She nodded back. “Mr. Dugan.”
“You have coffee here?”
“Absolutely. Would you like me to get you some?”
“Absolutely,” he repeated, smiling.
When Katherine returned with the steaming cup, Clay and Dugan were huddled around the table talking business while Audry took notes. Dugan looked up.
“Thanks, darlin’. Say, can I ask you a couple questions before you go?”
She glanced at Clay. He nodded his permission.
“Sure,” she said.
“I’m a straightforward guy,” Dugan began. “And I’m thinking of hiring your husband’s firm. Clay here has given me the hard sell, and Audra seems smart as a whip. But I’d like to get a couple things straight from the mare’s mouth.” He shifted his large frame in the chair, facing her. “Why do you think a man like me ought to ditch my big overpriced law firm for a small operation like this?”
Katherine gathered herself. I’m on.
“Because we’re not overpriced, for one,” she began. “And we’re successful. Look around. We’re growing; a new satellite office in Providence is coming online within the week.”
“Providence, eh?”
“Yes. And maybe you didn’t know that Stuart graduated in the top ten percent of his class, just like those big firm lawyers. He works hard. And we don’t have children, so this job is his baby.”
A moment of silence followed, but Dugan did not yet seem convinced. He spoke again, his tone more serious. “Pardon me for bringing it up, but the DA fired Stuart a few years back. Shouldn’t I be concerned about that?”
The big man wasn’t delicate, and he certainly didn’t pull any punches. “Stuart was a rising star,” Katherine said. “He was obviously next in line for Malloy’s job.”
Dugan nodded. “And men on top don’t like to be challenged.”
“Of course not.”
“How about Clay here? What’s he like?”
Katherine thought for a moment. The situation felt too formal, too academic, like she was reciting résumés. The dirty-fingernailed developer didn’t look comfortable. He didn’t feel at home in their office the same way he didn’t feel comfortable with the firm he was firing.
“You have to make your own call on Clay,” she said. “I don’t know him the way I know my husband. He could be a huge prick.”
Dugan laughed out loud. “You’re feisty. Boy, do I like that! Just as long as he’s my huge prick. That’s exactly what I pay my lawyers to be.”
Katherine smiled back, relieved. It had been a gamble, but she was good at making people relax. Dugan needed to feel like he was among friends, not dazzled by professionalism. Buchanan, Stark wouldn’t win a résumé battle against the big firms anyway.
“Is that all you needed to know?” she said.
“Yep,” he said. “Thanks, babe. You’ve been a great help.”
“I aim to please.”
Clay gave her a clandestine nod, and Katherine stepped out of the room to let them talk again. She felt elated. She’d made Dugan comfortable. And it had been a decade since she’d been called a babe.
They concluded their meeting a few minutes later, and Dugan stepped out to use the bathroom. Clay sent Audry back to one of the new offices.
Katherine peeked into the conference room. “How did I do, boss?” she joked with a smug grin.
Clay looked up. “I could have sworn I told you to call him Reggie,” he said, unsmiling.
Katherine winced. “He called me Mrs. Stark. I replied in kind. It just felt right.”
Clay gave her a blank look, and her stomach did a flip-flop. She’d screwed up. She knew it. He knew it. And he knew she knew it.
“It was just a little thing,” she tried. “And he laughed when I called you a prick.”
“Yeah, we’ll talk about that later too. Look, I know you’re accustomed to improvising your life, but I have a specific strategy that happens to be working for us, so I think it might be best if you follow my lead. Do you have an issue with that?”
She’d been having some fun, but fun wasn’t the goal, she realized, and Clay was quite serious. More important, his strategy was working. He’d given her very specific direction and she’d immediately ignored it. She shook her head. “No issue. Sorry. I’m yours to command.”
 
; “That’s what I like to hear.”
Dugan reappeared in the hall. He and Clay were shaking hands, but Katherine couldn’t tell if the deal had been struck or not. Without a written contract, it probably still hung in the balance.
“Thanks for the meeting,” Dugan said. “I’d love to see the rest of your office, but I’ve got to go out to inspect some model homes we’re building.”
Clay brightened. “That’s great. You know, Katherine is looking for a new place. Have you got anything with a bay view?”
“One. It’s a bit pricey, though. We had to do a teardown of the existing home first. This one’s brand-new with high-end materials.”
“Perfect,” Clay said, foregoing any discussion of the price. “I know she’d love to see it.”
Katherine held up a finger to object, but Clay’s narrow eyes flashed to her, and her finger melted back into her palm under their burning gaze.
“It’s okay, Kate,” Clay said. “I’m sure Reggie doesn’t mind giving you a private showing.” He held her eyes with his. “This is one of those things I’m willing to take the lead on, if you’re feeling shy.”
“Never be afraid to ask for what you want,” Dugan rumbled in his deep voice. “I’d be happy to take you out there. I’m going now, if that’s good for you.”
When Katherine hesitated, Clay nodded at her.
“Okay,” she said. She took a deep breath and threw on a playful smile. “I’m game.”
Katherine dropped her aging Toyota Corolla at home and walked back down the driveway to Dugan’s waiting Dodge Ram pickup for the trip south. The Ram was new—fifty thousand dollars, at least, Katherine guessed. It sat so high off the ground that she had to tiptoe in her heels and pull up her skirt just to reach the running board with her right foot. Dugan opened the door for her to help her in, one of his massive hands wrapping around hers. Very gentlemanly. His other hand found her butt again. Less gentlemanly. He hoisted her up onto the heated leather passenger seat.
The Ram’s ride was smooth, more luxurious than any car she and Stu had ever owned, though the heated seat made her buns feel like they were being slow-cooked. The premium sound system played at a low volume so they could talk, and a navigation panel boasted voice activation and audio directions, which Reggie said he didn’t use because it sounded like an annoying customer service woman trying to get him to calm down. His Bluetooth headset remained activated, but he’d tucked it in the door pouch so that she had his full attention.