Mary thought the way he said it made her wonder if he was talking about himself.
“I think I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow. Check in on him.”
“That would be nice,” Mary said, touched. She stroked his back. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“What about the dishes?”
“Leave the dishes.”
“Whoa, now we’re getting crazy.” Anthony grinned, but just then, Mary’s phone started ringing, a faint sound coming from her purse, which she’d left in the entrance hall.
“Hold on, it might be Bennie!” Mary jumped up and ran for the entrance hall, but she reached it as the rings stopped. She dug inside her purse, found her phone, and checked the screen. The call had been from Bennie, who was still in Mary’s contacts as Da Boss.
Mary pressed Redial, holding her breath.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next morning, Bennie parked in the visitors’ lot at OpenSpace, a boxy building of tan stone with an all-glass entrance on the left. To the right were the corporate offices, a tan fa?ade interrupted by two strips of black smoked glass, and tucked behind was a seven-thousand-square-foot manufacturing facility of tan corrugated tin, plus loading docks. The employee parking lots flanked the building, and they were full because the first shift started two hours ago, at six o’clock.
Last night, Bennie had told Mary on the phone that she was going to give her idea a try and see if she could settle the case, so here she was, against better judgment. She got out of the car with her purse and messenger bag, ignoring the humidity, walked the concrete path to the entrance, and entered the building. It was insanely air-conditioned, so she was glad she had on her khaki blazer, which had become her uniform. She didn’t like to worry about what she was going to wear every day, and it made getting ready easier. She strode to the reception area, shaped like a cubicle itself, with gray-paneled walls and functional gray seating around a glass-and-chrome table.
“Hello, may I help you?” asked the receptionist, a young brunette with short hair.
“Yes, thank you.” Bennie slid her driver’s license out of her wallet as she introduced herself. “I have a meeting with Todd Eddington and Jason Worrall.”
“And Ray Matewicz.”
“Pardon?”
“Mr. Matewicz will be joining you as well, I believe. They’re waiting for you. You can go right into the conference room. I’ll buzz the door.” The receptionist gestured to a door to the right.
“Thanks.” Bennie went through, finding herself in a hallway lined with glossy ads for the company: Office Cubicles, Modular Furniture, Call Center Stations, Treadmill Workstations! Only the Finest Building Materials, Sourced from the World Over! We Build to YOUR Specifications and Price! She went to the only open door, reaching the threshold of a no-frills conference room containing three men sitting at a round Formica table.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” Bennie introduced herself, closing the door behind her and setting her belongings on the table. The three men stood up instantly, led by Jason Worrall, a tall African-American lawyer with bright brown eyes behind horn-rimmed glasses and a studious smile typical of younger lawyers, who thought every case was a final exam. When in fact, it was a war.
“Bennie, good to see you again.” Jason extended a hand. He had on a blue oxford shirt with no tie and a pair of dark slacks, the only man not dressed in a green polo with the white OpenSpace logo. He gestured to the others, one older and one younger. “Meet Todd Eddington. He runs Sales.”
“Great, hello.” Bennie knew from the complaint that Todd was the one who had terminated Simon Pensiera.
“Hey, Bennie, good to meet you.” Todd stepped forward, the younger man, with a strong handshake. He seemed about Bennie’s age, also tall, with sandy-brown hair cut in costly layers, sharp blue eyes, a thin nose, and the broad smile of a salesman, though his teeth looked oddly bonded together. His arms were tan, but his hands weren’t, so she guessed he was a golfer, which fit the profile.
“You too.” Bennie turned to the older man. “And you are—”
“Ray Matewicz, VP and Operations manager.” Ray was shorter and heavier than Todd, maybe in his fifties, with small hazel eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses that were almost the same color as his grayish hair, which he wore in a short practical cut. His build was stocky, with a belly paunch that contributed to an overall lack of vanity, which Bennie liked. Like most operations types, he came off as strictly business, so she didn’t want to waste his time, since most of them thought that that was a lawyer’s reason for existence.
“Nice to meet you all. Should we get started?” Bennie pulled out a swivel chair closest to her.
“Sure,” Jason answered as they returned to their seats on the opposite side of the conference table, though he paused before he sat down. “Hey, I should have offered, you want coffee or anything?”
“No, thanks,” Bennie said, since that was the right answer. It was morning for her, but it was almost lunchtime for them. She slid a pen and a fresh legal pad from her messenger bag, but left her laptop inside. She wanted to make eye contact while they spoke, not be looking down at a computer.
Suddenly, the door opened, and they all turned. Bennie twisted around, surprised to see Nate entering the room, dressed in a light blue sweater and jeans, with an easy grin. Bennie didn’t need him here, but she hid her annoyance since she’d invited him, after all. “Nate, I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I wanted to drop in. Don’t mind me. I won’t say a word.” Nate pulled a chair from the table, turning to Todd and Ray, who shook his hand in turn. “Good morning, gentlemen. I’m Nate Lence, with Dumbarton. Just thought I’d sit in.”
Bennie assumed Nate finessed who he was so they wouldn’t get nervous, which was a good call.
Todd shrugged. “Sure, whatever, I’m Todd Eddington, and this is Ray Matewicz, my boss.”
“Great to meet you.” Nate took a seat just as Jason popped up with a professional smile.
“Nate, good to see you.”
“You, too. Proceed as if I’m not here.” Nate waved his hand dismissively, and everyone sat back down.
Bennie turned away, getting down to business. “Well, folks, you’re wondering what this is about. We need to discuss the termination of one of your reps, Simon Pensiera. But before we get into detail, let me understand a few things about your corporate structure.” Bennie shifted her attention to Todd. “Do you report directly to Ray?”
“Yes, as VP.”
Bennie turned to Ray. “And to whom do you report? The company president?”
“Yes. Mike Bashir.”
Bennie recognized the name from another of Dumbarton’s subsidiaries. “I know Mike Bashir from Joselton Ltd.”
“Right. He came from there. They make kids’ clothes.”
“Who made the decision to terminate Simon Pensiera?”
“I did.” Todd tensed.
“Is anybody required to approve that decision?”
“Mike Bashir. He rubber-stamps it.”
“How about with anybody at Dumbarton?” Bennie held her breath.
“No.”