“Foxman, how could you not remember? You don’t know where you applied?”
“Okay.” Flustered, John raised a hand. “I know Hunter & Logue and Berger, Ginn. I’d have to think of the others. I sent the resume to a headhunter, and he’s the one who put it out there.”
“Which headhunter?”
“Dean Slovak.”
“You contacted Dean or he contacted you?”
“He contacted me.”
“Did he have a job opening in mind or he was just fishing?”
“He didn’t say, but he called me after Judy made partner. It was my lowest point, and I just sent in the resume.”
“When was this, exactly?”
“A few months ago. I have to check my calendar.”
“Do you remember which firm or firms you made the statement to?’”
“It was Hunter & Logue, I’m pretty sure.”
“Did you say that at more than one firm?”
“I have to think about that, but I don’t think so.” John hesitated. “They asked why I wanted to leave, so I had to give the reason.”
Bennie folded her arms. “Did you give all of them that reason?”
“No, only Hunter.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I was most interested in Hunter. They needed to fill a position on a new antitrust matter, and that appealed to me. So we talked in more depth.”
“With whom did you interview, do you remember? I know most of those guys.”
“Sure, Mark Jacobowitz.”
Bennie looked as if she were about to say something, then kept it to herself, but Mary knew how upset she would be inside. John’s statement not only damaged their case, it embarrassed all of them. Even Mary hated to think that John would say that about her, around town. It wasn’t true, and she knew tons of people in the legal community. Her reputation mattered, especially in Philly.
Bennie continued, “So Mark’s the one you made the comment to. You’re not sure if you said it to anybody else?”
“I don’t think I did.”
“Did you interview with anyone at Hunter besides Mark?”
“Yes, an associate.”
“What was his name?”
“It was Mark’s son. Bradley.”
“Did you make the comment to Bradley, too?”
“Oops, yes, I forgot about him. I guess I felt comfortable with him.”
Mary had no idea how they would mitigate the damage, and she was angry at the unfairness of the accusation. They hadn’t discriminated against John because he was a man, and he wasn’t senior enough to be a partner yet. Meanwhile, Hunter & Logue was an all-male firm, but nobody thought that was discriminatory. That was the status quo.
Bennie pursed her lips. “Did you take notes after any of these interviews?”
“No.”
“Did you exchange emails in connection with any of these interviews?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to have copies of them.”
“Sure thing,” John said, his tone turning agreeable. “I also talked to Mark about the possibility of partnership in the next year. He said that was definitely something that they would consider.”
“Did Hunter make you an offer?”
“Yes.”
“And what did you do?”
“I declined.”
“Why?”
John flushed slightly. “The pay was lower.”
“Hmph,” Bennie said, without elaboration. “Are you negotiating with them?”
“No, we were too far apart.”
“Did anyone else make any offers?”
“I haven’t heard back yet.” John sighed, sensing his cross-examination was over. “Bennie, as I said before, I think I should resign.”
“I wish you wouldn’t.”
“Why? I mean, how can I work here anymore?” John raised his hands in appeal, obviously at a loss.
“How can you not? If you leave, it will confirm the reporter’s story, which we did not do in real time. And it leaves a huge, gaping hole in our London Technologies case. I don’t know how we can stage that litigation without you.” Bennie gazed at him evenly. “Bottom line, the best way to mitigate the damage to this firm is for you to work here and for us not to speak of this anymore. But it’s your choice, and I leave it to you.”
“I’d like to think about it.”
“That is your right and privilege.” Bennie opened the conference-room door. “Now if you’ll give us some time in private.”
“Again, I’m very sorry, to everyone,” John said to Mary and Judy, then headed for the door.
Bennie let him out and closed the door behind him. “Well, well, well,” she said, exhaling heavily. “We have an enemy in our midst.”
Judy sighed, miserably. “He’s not really our enemy, is he?”
“Yes, but no matter.” Bennie’s eyes glittered. “Let’s take a page from Machiavelli’s book. ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ We can deal.”
Mary looked up, worried sick. “What do we do now?”
“We review the documents and try to understand the facts of our own case.” Bennie gestured at the credenza, where she had put the documents that John had given her. “In other words, we get to work.”
“Arg, I am so sorry.” Judy leaned back in her chair, as if pressed there by some unseen weight. “I can’t believe he did this.”
“Carrier, it’s not your fault.” Bennie slid her phone from her blazer pocket. “Let’s call Lao-Tzu before he reads it online.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
A copper sun dipped behind the flat roofs, satellite discs, and trolley wires that hung over South Philly like an urban canopy, and Mary braced herself before she went into her parents’ house. She wished she could have gone straight home after the long afternoon at work, but her parents wanted to see her more often now that she was pregnant, which had upgraded her already lofty status as Amazing Daughter to that of Magical Grandchild Vessel.
Her parents, Vita and Matty DiNunzio, lived on Mercy Street, which was lined on either side by two-story redbrick rowhouses, differentiated by the color of their shutters (generally black), the railing on their front stoops (wrought-iron preferred), and the contents of their bay windows (Eagles, Phillies, or Flyers paraphernalia required, religious statuary optional, Virgin Mary always on point). Mary had grown up in this house, with its scrollwork D in the metal screen door, like all the other neighbors. When she was little, she’d thought it stood for “door” until she realized it stood for DiNunzio, DaTuno, and DeTizio, because back then, everybody was Italian-American. Nowadays the screen doors had changed, but the people were still the same. Which was the way of South Philly, if not the Tao.
“MARE, IS THAT YOU ONNA STOOP?” her father shouted through the screen door, because his hearing aid plugged his ear like a plastic cork, insulating him from all sound.
“Yes, Pop!” Mary opened the door and entered the long, rectangular house, which was so stuffed with people that it reminded her of a manicotti with too much ricotta filling.
Her father was watching the Phillies game with her husband, Anthony Rotunno, and her father’s three best friends, The Tonys—Tony-From-Down-The-Block LoMonaco, Pigeon Tony Lucia, and Tony “Two Feet” Pensiera, whose nickname had a nickname, namely Feet. They were honorary uncles and hung out at the house, like an octogenarian street gang. Beyond the living room was the kitchen, which held her mother and her mother-in-law, Elvira, whom Mary secretly called El Virus. Most people would think that a kitchen with two women wasn’t as full as a living room with five men, but these two women meant that the kitchen was not only dangerously over occupancy, but possibly thermonuclear. Mary’s mother and El Virus were as different as old-school and no-school, but lately they’d been getting along unusually well, both counting down to the birth of their grandchild, coming soon from a uterus near you.