Feared

by Lisa Scottoline

  “It’s unclear at this point.”

  “But they have to ask for damages in the Complaint, don’t they?”

  “No, it’s not a complaint that you file in court, where damages are specified. It’s an administrative complaint filed with the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission.”

  “So how much can they get if they win? Like ten grand or fifty? Or one hundred grand?”

  “It’s hard to say, because we don’t—”

  “Can’t you ballpark it?”

  “No, because there’s too many variables.”

  “What are you, a contractor?” Anthony scoffed. “Gimme a number. I have a right to know, don’t I?”

  “Okay, let me think.” Mary had been calculating it in her head for most of the afternoon, though she, Judy, and Bennie kept coming up with different totals, since damages in a failure-to-hire case were notoriously hard to calculate. “It’s three plaintiffs who say they weren’t hired because they’re men. Let’s assume that we lose.” Mary felt sick at the thought alone. “The way to make them whole is to award them what they would’ve earned if they had gotten the job for a reasonable period of years.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “That’s the theory.” Mary hated getting into the weeds with him. She never should’ve said anything. “So if the going rate for an associate is seventy grand a year and they were wrongly denied that pay, then that’s three plaintiffs at seventy grand a year, probably for five years and—”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s over a million dollars!” Anthony slammed on the brakes, harder than necessary.

  “I know.” Mary had to admit it sounded scary, to her too. “But I would only pay a third of it.”

  “So? Where are we going to get that kind of money? Especially now?”

  “We’re not going to lose, Anthony.”

  “But where will we get the money, if we did? You said yourself, you have to assume you lose, so where do we get that money?” Anthony threw up his hands. “We have a killer mortgage. I told you the house was a reach.”

  “We’re doing fine with the mortgage.” Mary held her tongue. The new house had been a bone of contention too, but she bought it with her savings, so she’d made the down payment. They would’ve been on easy street but for the fact that she’d gotten pregnant and gotten sued, not in that order.

  “Mary, this is a disaster.” Anthony shook his head as he drove. “I didn’t realize you’re getting sued personally.”

  “I know, it’s unusual. We think that’s why Machiavelli chose to sue under the statute. In fact, he manufactured the whole case—”

  “It doesn’t matter how it began, it only matters how it ends!”

  “Well, we don’t know that yet, now do we?”

  “No, but we know that,” Anthony shot back, newly agitated. “We cannot get another loan to pay off any judgment against us.”

  “Okay, so we’ll win.”

  “You better!”

  “So maybe I should work tomorrow?” Mary asked dryly.

  “I’ll pack your lunch,” Anthony shot back.

  Suddenly Mary’s phone rang, and she pulled it from her purse and checked the screen to see a FaceTime call from Machiavelli, which wasn’t a complete surprise. It was his modus operandi to call her during their cases, like a kindergartener with his mother’s phone.

  She said to Anthony, “Guess who.”

  Anthony glanced over. “Him? You don’t have to answer it.”

  “Yes, I do. You never know.” Mary pressed the button to take the call, and Nick Machiavelli appeared on the screen. He was handsome in a vaguely seductive way, like Satan with a law degree. He wore his black hair slicked back, and his eyes were narrow slits, with dark brown irises that burned with intensity, even on the phone. His nose was strong, and his jawline was strong, if pugnacious. He dressed like a mobster who shopped at Neiman Marcus, and though he dated plenty of women, Mary could barely set her hatred aside to talk to him.

  “Hey Mare, how was dinner?” Machiavelli asked, with a cocky smile.

  “Why are you calling?” Mary didn’t bother to hide her disdain. Machiavelli had his minions everywhere in the neighborhood, so he probably didn’t have to guess that she’d been at her parents’ house. She and Machiavelli were like the Good Witch and the Bad Witch of South Philly.

  “How’re your parents doing?”

  “None of your business.”

  “How’s Anthony?”

  “Also not your concern.”

  “Tell him I said congratulations on the new baby.”

  Anthony flipped him the bird, though it was off-screen.

  Mary was losing patience. “What are you calling about, Machiavelli? And you know I hate it when you FaceTime me.”

  “Which is why I do it.” Machiavelli grinned. “Also it’s fun. Work should be fun, Mare, don’t you think?”

  “Is this about the case? If so, get to the point. If not, I’m hanging up.”

  “You guys ready to settle?” Machiavelli’s smile evaporated, which reminded Mary that he never did anything without a purpose. Despite his joking around, he was deadly serious when he wanted something, and this time, he wanted to destroy her and her firm.

  “No settlement, ever. And as you know, I’m a defendant in the suit you filed, not a lawyer, so you’re not permitted to communicate with me directly. We hired a lawyer. He should have sent you a letter already.”

  “Roger Vitez, that hippie? He did, but I like you better.”

  “This is the last call I’m taking from you.”

  “Think about settling, Mare. Don’t be stubborn. I know how you get.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “You guys are going down.”

  “Remains to be seen.”

  Machiavelli chuckled. “Isn’t that from the Magic 8-Ball?”

  “No, that would be, ‘reply hazy, try again.’”

  “It’s going to get worse from here, Mare. Your press conference was a fiasco. I got you dead-to-rights. Your firm’s been getting away with murder for too long. It’s against the law to hire only women. We boys deserve a break today.”

  “Oh, please,” Mary said, ending the call. She tried not to let it get to her, but she felt shaken. The stakes were high, and Machiavelli stopped at nothing.

  “Babe?” Anthony said, softly.

  “Yes?” Mary looked over.

  Anthony smiled, grimly. “Beat his ass.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mary rode upward in the elevator, late on her way into the office because she had stopped to get bagels and cream cheese for everybody. Even pregnant, she couldn’t imagine working on the weekend without a food reward. She pulled up her maternity pants, trying to situate them comfortably on her belly. They were the only thing more annoying than maternity dresses, and she’d been horrified by this pair, ugly wide-legged jeans with a big swath of black elastic in the belly, as if someone had taken a black Sharpie around the equator.

  The elevator doors opened, and she stepped into the office and trundled through the empty reception hall, breathing heavily. She felt like the Little Train That Could, huffing and puffing along, I think I can I think I can, but truth to tell, Mary had felt that way even before her pregnancy. She’d always had to give herself pep talks, telling herself she could do whatever it was that she was afraid of, and happily, she’d been right most of the time. This time, she worried she was up against her biggest challenge.

  Her thoughts churning away, Mary walked down the hallway toward the conference room, where she knew the others would be waiting. For the first time ever, she had to admit that her stress levels were maxing out. Anthony had barely spoken to her before they fell asleep last night, and she’d left early enough so they only had time for a quick breakfast. She was as worried as he was about the possibility that they could lose the lawsuit, which could put them into personal bankruptcy. Not only that, but she was worried about whether this was the end of Rosato & DiNunzio. It seemed impossible, but
the stakes couldn’t be higher.

  “Oh,” Mary said, surprised as she arrived at the threshold of the conference room. She had expected Bennie and Judy, who were sitting at the conference table in T-shirts and jeans, but catty-corner to them was Roger Vitez, dressed like a Steve Jobs wannabe again, in what looked like a fresh black turtleneck and jeans, and he sat next to a younger, sandy-haired man in rimless glasses, who was dressed like a Vitez wannabe.

  “Perfect timing, DiNunzio.” Bennie flashed her a stiff smile, but didn’t look especially happy, and Judy jumped up, came around the table, and reached for the bag.

  “Let me take that.”

  “Aren’t you nice?” Mary said, touched, as she entered the conference room.

  “No, just hungry. What did you bring?”

  “Lox and bagels.”

  “Nice, thanks. You’re gonna be a great mom.”

  “I already am.” Mary entered the room and sat down as Judy dug in the bag.

  Bennie gestured to Vitez. “DiNunzio, you know Roger, and with him is an associate of his, Isaac Chevi.”

  “Hi Roger, Isaac. I didn’t know you guys would be here.”

  Bennie interjected, “I only found out this morning.”

  Roger smiled his Zen smile. “I thought I might come by, since I’m allegedly your counsel.”

  “Okay,” Mary said, not knowing what he meant. But then again, she was getting used to not knowing what he meant. She sat down in her chair while Judy distributed chubby lox and bagel sandwiches around the table, wrapped in waxed paper, but there were only three. “I’m sorry I didn’t get enough food. I would have, if I had known.”

  Roger raised a hand. “No need. We’re fine.”

  “Thanks, DiNunzio.” Bennie pulled her sandwich over, glancing at Roger. “Why don’t you tell Mary what you were just telling us?”

  “Sure.” Roger linked his fingers in front of him, the way he had before, and if he noticed that the air was beginning to reek of briny deli pickles, he didn’t let it show. “Mary, I was just telling Bennie that I watched your press conference yesterday, with dismay. More than a little dismay.”

  Mary listened, trying to get used to the way he talked, which was odd. More than a little odd. Plus he wasn’t the kind of guy you could interrupt, and she was big on interrupting. She and Judy interrupted each other constantly. Not only could they finish each other’s sentences, they could start them, which was a girlfriend thing.

  “It demonstrated fairly clearly that from here on, we need to alter the way we communicate with others, with respect to this case.”

  “You mean you want to change things?” Mary asked, trying to translate. “Because we flunked the press conference?”

  Judy looked over with a smile, her cheeks full of bagel. “Dude, we’re trying not to think about it in such a binary fashion. Pass and fail. Thumbs-up or thumbs-down. It’s not like that.”

  “Exactly,” Roger said, pleased. “Isaac is an employee of my firm, and he speaks with my voice.”

  “That must hurt,” Mary said, just to make him laugh, but he didn’t. Judy did, so she hadn’t completely gone over to the dark side.

  “Isaac has degrees in marketing and psychology, and he deals with our firm’s communications. It is my sincerest wish that from now on, any and all communications with regard to the litigation go through him, and he speaks for us all, with one voice.”

  Mary got the gist. “So he’s a PR guy?”

  Roger flinched. “Essentially.”

  Bennie frowned. “DiNunzio, to bring you up to speed, I was just telling Roger that I don’t think we need a spokesperson. We know how to speak for ourselves.”

  “I agree,” Mary said, for solidarity. And also she did agree.

  Bennie raised her chin. “I haven’t practiced law for decades to need a mouthpiece. I am a mouthpiece.”

  Roger’s cool gaze slid sideways to Bennie. “Need I point out that your maiden voyage didn’t go quite as expected?”

  “We were sabotaged, and Isaac would’ve been in the same position. We didn’t know the question was coming.”

  “Isaac?” Roger turned to Isaac. “Would you have a response to that that you might want to share?”

  Isaac nodded, with a pat smile. “Bennie, this is in no way criticism of you or the way the conference went. Your point is well taken. However, as a matter of procedure, when we hold a meeting at any time with the press, everyone is required to sign in and identify themselves.”

  Isaac kept his tone calm and even, in almost the exact same cadence as Roger, and Mary had never heard anything like it, especially from a PR type or publicist. They all talked a mile a minute, which was a job requirement since everybody hung up on them.

  Isaac was saying, “They’re registered and they wear identifying badges during the event. In this way, we know exactly who is asking what questions, which is important information. If we had run the conference, we would know who the reporter was who asked those questions. Because clearly, she has some information that we need.”

  Bennie sighed. “Okay, good point, but still I don’t think we need you.”

  Roger looked over at Bennie. “You don’t like taking orders.”

  “No one ever gives me orders, so I don’t know whether I like it or not.”

  Roger smiled, cocking his head. “And I’m betting that you don’t like taking orders from a man.”

  “I have never done that either.” Bennie smiled slyly, and Roger smiled back, and Mary wondered if this qualified as foreplay for lawyers. Meanwhile, Roger was barking up the wrong tree because Bennie was totally in love with her boyfriend, Declan, who might’ve been the exact opposite of Roger in every way. Namely, that he talked normal.

  Roger leaned back in his chair. “In any event, you hired me to represent you, and Isaac is a part of my team. An essential part of my team. If you want me, he comes with.”

  “Oh fine,” Bennie said irritably, and just then Mary heard a noise behind her and turned around to see John Foxman standing in the threshold of the conference room, dressed in a tie and a three-piece gray suit. His forehead was knit, and there were dark circles underneath his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well.

  “Hi, everyone,” John said uncomfortably. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  Bennie rose. “Foxman, this is Roger Vitez and Isaac Chevi.” She gestured at John. “Gentlemen, this is John Foxman.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Roger said, though he didn’t rise, and neither did Isaac.

  “Sorry to interrupt, I want to get this over with, so I just thought I would come in.” John squared his shoulders. “I reached a decision about whether I’m staying with the firm or going.”

  Mary sighed inwardly. She wasn’t ready for this yet. She needed carbohydrates. Or not to be pregnant.

  Judy set her sandwich aside. “John, seriously?”

  John avoided her eye, turning to Bennie. “Bennie, this isn’t easy, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You know I think the world of you and this firm and—”

  Bennie interrupted him, “What’s your decision?”

  “I’ve decided to resign. I don’t think I can work here any longer.”

  “And why is that?” Bennie shot back.

  Mary took it like a blow. She’d been sure that John was going to stay, after Bennie’s pitch last night. Judy looked equally upset, her lips parting and her attention glued to John, but she didn’t say anything.

  John sighed stiffly, his face a grim mask. “It’s not tenable to stay here, in view of my statements and my view.”

  “Your view?”

  “The fact is I made those statements, and they were the truth. I do feel out of place here, and even more so, since the Complaint was filed.” John’s expression softened. “I truly don’t think you discriminated against me, however. And I do think you would have made me partner one day. But those are counterfactuals. Now that the lawsuit has been filed, I don’t think I can stay.”

 
Bennie frowned. “But what about the fact that this damages the case against us? We’re parting ways, and the obvious conclusion after what happened is that the plaintiffs are correct on the facts. Or that you’ve been ousted.”

  “I can’t control the implications of what I do, or what people infer. But I’ll make it clear that this is my decision, not yours. I’ll draft a statement that I’m resigning voluntarily and run it by you.”

  “Statement or no statement, the facts speak for themselves. The implication is clear. It could even look like retaliation.”

  Judy blurted out, “John, this is a mistake. The Complaint was just filed and everybody’s upset. It’s going to settle down. Why don’t you give it a week or two? See how you feel then.”

  “I don’t think so, Judy.” John shook his head. “I’ll feel the same way. It’s a Band-Aid, and there’s no reason to pull it off slowly.”

  Mary felt an overwhelming sadness descend over her. She could see that John had made up his mind, and he was jumping the gun. “John, Judy’s right. Can’t you just give it some time? I mean, I really loved getting to know you and working with you.”

  John smiled at Mary, softly. “I appreciate your saying that. I really enjoyed working with you, too. But I have to go and I don’t want to delay.”

  Bennie interjected, “John, how long are you planning on staying? A month? Two weeks?”

  John hesitated. “No, I’d like to leave right away. Today. I have an interview across town. I think the next two weeks are going to be really uncomfortable. There’s no reason to put either side through that.”

  Judy gasped. “Either side? What are you talking about? Aren’t we on the same side?”

  “Of course we are,” John answered quickly. “I meant all parties.”

  Bennie rose, surprised. “But what about London Technologies? This is the worst possible time, in the middle of discovery. We have twelve depositions to take and sixteen to defend. There’s even a dep to defend on Monday. How can you leave now? How is Anne going to handle that?”

  “She’ll be fine,” John shot back, resentment edging his tone.

  Bennie glowered. “And what about the client, Jim and Sanjay? My client. You have a responsibility to them, too. You’re here today, gone tomorrow?”