Mary kept writing, detailing her facts, laying out the legal portion of the complaint, and finally arriving at the damages, which she left boilerplate, “in excess of $50,000,” since that was the minimum for federal-court actions. She would leave the amount open-ended until after she had studied the bills, which Simon had already emailed her but she hadn’t had a chance to review yet. Obviously, she wanted to get as much money as possible for Simon, but her strategy in settling cases was to start at a reasonable number, because it signaled that she was willing to settle.
The sun moved across the sky behind her, shifting a shaft of sunlight from her correspondence to her laptop, but she barely noticed. She ate lunch while she worked, a small garden salad brought to her by Judy, which made her feel better. She spent the rest of the afternoon finishing the draft complaint, writing a cover letter, and crunching the numbers for a settlement demand. It took her until the end of the day and she printed out the complaint, checking the hallway to see when Bennie came out of her deposition, which was in the conference room across the hall.
There was a commotion outside, and Mary grabbed the complaint and hurried out of her office. The deposition was over, and a weary court reporter, a few men in suits, Bennie’s friend Sam, and finally Bennie left the conference room, saying good-bye to Sam with a sheaf of exhibits in her hand.
“Bennie, got a minute?” Mary intercepted her, right outside the door.
“Just about,” Bennie answered, heading for her office.
“I won’t take long.” Mary had a plan, and this was the time to execute it. She followed Bennie into her office and closed the door behind her, while Bennie sat down at her desk, plopping exhibits in the middle. The strain of the day showed in her face, and her topknot was askew, with a pencil stuck in the middle.
“Is this about OpenSpace? Because we discussed that already.”
“But we’re not finished yet.” Mary stood her ground, literally and figuratively. “I looked at the rules, and it’s not as clear-cut as you might’ve thought.”
“I know that already and—”
“I really think that the circumstances allow me to take the case.”
“We have to agree to disagree for now.” Bennie met her gaze evenly, her eyes flashing a sharp blue. “I have work to do.”
“Unfortunately, we can’t agree to disagree because impasse won’t work in this situation. We have to find a middle ground.”
“There isn’t one.” Bennie’s mouth set in a grim line, and to Mary it looked as if her lips were chiseled in stone, but Mary told herself not to be intimidated.
“Yes, there is. I checked the rules, and if the client consents to my undertaking the representation, then the conflict is waived.”
“I know that too.”
“So that may be a way to break the impasse.”
“I know Nate very well, and he’ll be furious if I ask him to consent. I can’t imagine a worse move for client relations. He’ll take it as a breach of my duty of loyalty to him and to Dumbarton.”
“But he’d be wrong. We know that now. You can explain that under the rules, it’s perfectly ethical for me to take the case.”
“He’s a lawyer. He can read the rules as well as we can. He won’t see the circumstances the way you do. It’s a judgment call at best.”
“Here’s my plan. Here’s the complaint and demand letter I’ve drafted in this matter, which I would file if I were to represent the plaintiff.” Mary set the complaint on Bennie’s desk. “This case is so open-and-shut that I think we should proceed informally, maybe even less adversarially, which will work for us both.”
“How can litigation not be adversarial? That’s the fun part.”
Mary let it go. Bennie was weird sometimes. “But this case is so sympathetic and OpenSpace was clearly in the wrong. I have the facts, including contemporaneous notes by the plaintiff that are very convincing, and I detailed that in the complaint.”
“So?” Bennie glanced at the complaint with a frown.
“I say that we call Nate together, tell him about the complaint, and even that we disagree on the representation. Let’s put the cards on the table and see if we can settle this case, informally, because all of our interests are aligned.”
“How are Dumbarton’s interests aligned with somebody suing its subsidiary? And if anybody calls Nate, I will. Alone.”
“Because when this complaint becomes public record, or if it came to light in a newspaper, it would be terrible publicity—”
“Is that a threat?” Bennie recoiled.
“No, it’s a fact,” Mary answered, though it was a threat, kind of. And Bennie was the one who had taught her to use the media to her advantage in a case. “It’s a case that they’re going to want to settle, if they have any sense at all. I have no doubt that when you read this complaint, with their interests in mind, you’ll feel the same way, and I’m willing to be reasonable in my settlement demand.”
Bennie didn’t say anything.
“Tell Nate you’re doing him a favor, in a way.”
“How am I doing him a favor, when my firm is suing his sub?”
“Because you got him in at the ground floor. If the plaintiff had gone to anyone else, you wouldn’t have known about it. We’re giving him a chance to make this go away before it gets bigger, and I’m not charging any fee. That saves him thirty percent, right there.”
“You’re doing it for no fee?”
“Of course. I told you, they’re family. I love this little girl. Her father, and her grandfather. I love them all.”
Bennie rubbed her face, leaving a reddish mark on her fair skin. “Mary, I’m trying to compromise, but you’re not understanding this from a business point of view. Our business. Nate has his pick of law firms in the city, but he’s been loyal to me, even as he’s outgrown—”
“I know but—”
“Wait, hold on. Don’t disregard that. I will tell you, as someone who’s been running a law firm longer than you have, that no business prospers by ignoring its client base.”
“You’re right, but I have the same problem. This is a case that comes to me out of the neighborhood. It’s very high-profile in South Philly, and everybody knows Rachel. The school, the synagogue, and the church have held bake sales and fundraisers for her since the day she got sick. I even organized one at my old high school.”
Bennie fell suddenly silent, so Mary kept going.
“I have a client base too, and even if my heart weren’t on the side of taking this case, then my client base is. Everybody in South Philly will know if I turn them away, everybody. It could hurt my reputation, even ruin it. And frankly I could never live with myself. I’m begging you. Please call Nate, OpenSpace, or whoever, and try to settle it informally.”
“I couldn’t go forward without investigating it myself, you know.”
“Then please, investigate. Do whatever you have to do. It’s all in the complaint.”
“Okay, enough.” Bennie picked up the complaint. “Tell you what. I’ll read this and decide.”
“Great, thanks!” Mary’s hopes soared.
“I’m doing this for you, partner to partner. I’m compromising.”
“I appreciate that,” Mary said, meaning it. “When will you let me know your decision?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Tonight?”
Bennie shot her a warning glance. “We’ll see.”
“Okay, thanks.” Mary started edging backwards toward the door. Every lawyer knew that when you win, get out of the courtroom. She opened the door and fled before Bennie changed her mind.