Waiting for Cary Grant (8 page)

Judge Franklin looked at Stephanie St. Claire and smiled. He liked lawyers young and malleable. They scared easily. Harlan Michaels stood behind her. Of course, there were exceptions to every rule. Even in his first year of practice, Harlan Michaels hadn’t scared.

Wincing, Donna Mosscato lifted expando files off the floor. She always brought her entire claims file to settlement conferences, no matter how unwieldy, as it seemed necessary to establish her preeminence at the proceedings. Barely managing to keep from toppling over, she defied gravity, and carried the weighty documents at one side.

“How do you value this case, Mr. Michaels?” Judge Franklin asked politely.

“Three million.”

Donna Mosscato gasped reflexively. In her customary response to any settlement demand, she rolled her eyes.

Judge Franklin sighed.

“What’s your offer, Ms. St. Claire?”

“I don’t have one.” She gulped.

“Then Ms. St. Claire, I suggest you simply bend over, grab your ankles, and kiss your ass goodbye,” Judge Franklin said.

“I believe the truck driver used poor judgment. Poor maintenance and poor driving caused this unfortunate accident.” Donna Mosscato interjected.

“Ms. Mosscato,” Judge Franklin sighed with the exasperation of a kindergarten teacher unable to reach a child with obvious intelligence limitations, “The issue isn’t what you believe. It’s what plaintiff is willing to accept in a case of catastrophic tragedy, all of which, if Mr. Michaels is to be believed, could have been prevented if Safety Tire had simply recalled a product that it knew to be inherently dangerous. How do you think your corporate suits are going to look alongside a little girl?”

“It’s not our fault,” Donna said. Judge Franklin stared out the window.

“Have you received anything from the truck driver?” Judge Franklin asked.

“The limits of his insurance policy, your Honor. He doesn’t have any penetrable assets. His income goes to child support and alimony,” he said.

“Mr Michaels, as I heard you say in one of your seminars a few years ago, ‘anything can happen in the courtroom, and the best lawyers know that even in the best of cases, they have only an eighty percent chance of winning.”‘

“When a family dies, because a company wants to save a few bucks, I’ll take that eighty percent chance,” Harlan said.

“Well, is that going to be your attitude, Mr. Michaels?” Judge Franklin asked.

“Yes. It is your Honor.”

Judge Franklin looked at Stephanie next. He leaned towards her, to increase the intimidation effect. “With early intervention, cases stop polluting the Court’s calendar. That didn’t happen here. You should have settled with Mr. Michaels months ago. I am offended by your case’s presence on my calendar, Ms. St. Claire. Now, that being said, think again, and then tell me, what are you prepared to offer today?”

Stephanie tried to swallow down the shame. “I don’t have anything to offer today.”

“I beg your pardon, counsel?”

Stephanie shrunk under Judge Franklin’s glare. She couldn’t look at Harlan. Ever again.

“Ms. St. Claire, this is called a mandatory settlement conference. I can see that you’re a baby lawyer, and maybe no one has told you this yet, but the purpose of mandatory settlement conferences is to settle cases, and that typically involves the lawyers and parties making offers to settle. Otherwise, we wouldn’t waste everyone’s time having them. I’ll give you another tip. Don’t antagonize the court. Some fairly bright new lawyers realize that as a matter of common sense. But that doesn’t seem to have happened with you.”

The obsequious sheriff laughed.

Stephanie’s cheeks were burning. She couldn’t look at Harlan. He would hate her now.

“Your Honor, I don’t think Ms. St. Claire is the problem here.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Michaels?” Judge Franklin glared at the one with the audacity to speak.

“Apparently, the problem is with Safety Tire and Mr. Seams. It’s not Ms. St. Claire. I think Ms. St. Claire is just here as a pinch hitter for Mr. Seams. He’s the primary lawyer on the case.”

“Then why the hell isn’t he here?! Get him on the phone! Ms. St. Claire, the primary lawyer, the TRIAL LAWYER needs to appear at the mandatory settlement conference. It’s not professional for anyone else to appear.”

“Your Honor, Ms. St. Claire is always professional. She’s an exemplary member of the Bar.”

“Thank you, Mr. Michaels.”

“Thank you, Harlan.” She whispered.

He simply nodded. She’d been told that he was the fiercest, nastiest opponent she’d ever meet. And that was from his friends. Even his friends said that everyone has their Harlan tolerance. And yet he insisted on being nice to her. In the ugly and brutal world of litigation, Harlan Michaels was the only kind voice she heard.

“Your Honor, I’m requesting an immediate trial date.” Harlan said.

“You’ll get it.” Judge Franklin replied.

Harlan winked at Kathy as they walked out of the Courthouse.

“Kathy, I’m sorry. Things may have sounded a little rough in there. I’ve always loved the beach. I could drive you along the beach on the way back. Are you with me?” Harlan asked.

“I’m with you!” She said exuberantly.” She loved this man who treated her so sweetly. She loved the way he handled everything. It was like he controlled everything. Maybe if he had been handling things from the beginning, her family wouldn’t have died.

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Are you going to get married?”

He hesitated. An image of Stephanie flashed through his mind.

“No.”

That answer wasn’t enough.

“Why aren’t you married?” She had to ask him.

“I don’t know, Kathy.” He answered truthfully.

“Have you ever been married?”

“No.”

“You’d be a good dad,” she said and leaned towards him.

“S
o, you want to try cases, Stephanie?”

“Yes.”

“Great.” Melvin sneered. “I’m going to build your reputation. Maybe you can try the Slade case against Harlan Michaels.”

Feeling a little dizzy, she sat down. Trial against Harlan. Her stomach twitched, remembering the South of France.

“How’d he do at deposition?” Melvin asked.

“He’s brilliant. He’s really talented,” she said.

“Brilliant?” Melvin scowled. “Oh.” He leaned over. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got a crush on Harlan Michaels.” His eyes widened. He looked at her closely. He threw back his head and laughed. “You can just forget it. You’d be the last bitch to get in his pants.”

“Well, no one will ever say that about any woman and you, Melvin.”

He looked startled.

She looked at the diplomas on her wall. The phrase kept ringing through her head. The last bitch to get in his pants.

“Pull all your cases and write summaries of what you’ve been doing for me. I want to go over them with you in the next couple days. It’ll mean working late. But I want to build your career. Look, if Safety Tire has done something illegal or has hidden some kind of knowledge of this defect...” He waved his hand. “I want to settle this case. It’s not right to do anything else.”

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.

S
he 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.