“But how do you know it’s true?”
“I don’t, but it seems credible. The plaintiff claims the boss explained the corporate deductible to him and that it’s capped at 250K. I know that’s true, and so do you. How would the plaintiff know that if he wasn’t told it? Why would a boss be discussing that at all?”
“It means nothing.”
“Really?” Bennie modulated her tone. “How big is your HR department at OpenSpace?”
“One person, I think. OpenSpace only has forty-five employees.”
“My point. With how many managers, in the whole company? Sales? Operations? Administrative?”
“Whatever.”
“And you have them trained on their responsibilities under the federal and state employment laws? Title VII? Age discrimination? Sexual harassment and the like?”
“We have somebody at one of the big firms to run seminars on that. Some labor jock at Dechert.”
“But what about disability law? The ADA, the Rehabilitation Act? I bet you don’t. I bet that’s a footnote in the seminar, if that. Wanna make a wager?”
“You might be right,” Nate said, after a moment.
“I bet your boss didn’t even know that you can’t fire somebody because you don’t want to pay their kid’s medical expenses. It’s called the association provision of the ADA, and there haven’t been many cases decided under it.”
“I never heard of it.”
“There you go, and that’s how these things happen. No bad intent. Just ignorance of the law, which, unfortunately for us, is no excuse.” Bennie saw his forehead relax, so she kept talking. “My partner attached the plaintiff’s photocopied notes as exhibits to the complaint, which is very detailed. I can email it to you, and you can read for yourself. My partner is eager to settle and she’s reasonable, unlike most of the thieves in the bar association. And because she’s personally associated with the case, she’s taking it for no fee, which saves you half.”
“How is she related to the case?”
“The plaintiff is the grandson of a friend of her father’s. Everybody in South Philly knows about the child. They’ve had fundraisers and articles in the local newspaper.”
“South Philly has a newspaper?” Nate picked up his wineglass.
“Don’t be a snob.”
“It comes so naturally.”
“Look. We should settle. We can just do this down and dirty. Simple dispute resolution, without bloodshed. We won’t make a habit of it. One and done. It makes a lot of sense, Nate. It really does.”
“I don’t know—”
“If my partner doesn’t take the case, another lawyer will.” Bennie tried her last-ditch effort. “And that person might not play ball with you the way she would.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“No, that’s reality.” Bennie lowered her voice. “Don’t underestimate your downside risk, either. If another plaintiff’s lawyer took the case, they could join Dumbarton as a defendant. I know I would. Then you and your deep pocket are on the hook, too.”
Nate shook his head. “When did litigation become extortion?”
Bennie gathered it was rhetorical. “And what if they expand discovery to the ADA policies of your other subsidiaries? Your exposure can be very broad unless you nip this in the bud.”
“Damn you.” Nate’s eyes flashed darkly.
“We should set up a meeting tomorrow at OpenSpace.”
“Who would be there?”
“The plaintiff’s boss and me, plus whoever we want. We’re improvising. We won’t invite my partner or the plaintiff. I know you wouldn’t ordinarily sit in, but you could if you wanted to, or just send your in-house guy that deals with OpenSpace.”
“What’s the point of the meeting?”
“Factual investigation, like any case. I interview the boss and see what our defense would be. That would enable us to have a fuller analysis of the case before we went forward.”
“This is so wrong.” Nate took another sip of his wine, then another. “My own lawyer is suing me, and I’m consenting.”
“You’re a more nuanced thinker than that. Be creative. It’s thinking outside the box.”
“You’re the only woman I know who has the balls to pitch me this way.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“So you say.” Bennie smiled. “Lighten up, Nate. You’re not too old to rock ’n’ roll, are you?”
“Please don’t try and jolly me along.” Nate glowered. “I expect you on my side, not theirs.”
“I’m still on your side. If it turns out that you’re not comfortable with my partner taking the case, even informally, then we don’t go forward. Or if you don’t want to settle or your in-house guy doesn’t, then we don’t go forward. We’ll have lost nothing. And we could be averting disaster, like if the plaintiff goes to a different lawyer.”
“I can’t believe you’re talking me into this.”
“Me neither.” Bennie smiled, inwardly relieved.
“Only you.” Nate smiled back.
“It’s in Dumbarton’s best interests, and OpenSpace’s, too.”
Nate met her eye, arching an eyebrow. “Why shouldn’t I fire you?”
“You’re too smart to do that.”
Nate burst into laughter. “Good answer!”
“That’s why I make the big bucks.”
Nate’s eyes glittered. “Bennie, come on. Ditch the cop, whatever his name is.”
“It’s Declan, and he’s a lawyer.”
“I bought a coat company for you. Would he do that?”
“I can buy my own coat,” Bennie answered, smiling.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A hazy dusk streaked the sky a copper-tinged blue, as if the sky itself were rusting, and Mary got out of the cab on 34th Street, hoisted her purse and messenger bag to her shoulder, and scanned the ultramodern building, with its curved glass fa?ade. White electrified letters on top read The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, in the colonial script favored by the University of Pennsylvania, on whose campus the hospital was situated. Mary had gone to Penn for undergrad and law school, but she had never been to the Children’s Hospital before now.