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.”