“How can it happen?” Bennie asked, incredulous. “You’re here and I’m there.”
Declan’s expression grew serious. “If we want to make it happen, we could make it happen. I could fill in the blank for you, the one that Mary’s leaving. I could take on half of your overhead.”
“Why, when your practice is here, almost three hours away? You can’t move your practice. What about your client base?”
“Granted, I wouldn’t move. But I could open a second office.”
“You could?” Bennie tried to process the information. “Were you thinking about doing that?”
“I wasn’t, not completely. But I was trying to think about ways to get together down the line. With you.” Declan frowned. “This whole long-distance thing, it’s hard. It gets old. I’d like to see you more than once a month. We play telephone ping-pong all the time, like last night.”
“I know.” Bennie felt the same way. She’d been trying to get in touch with him, but they kept missing each other.
“So maybe the time is right to take expansion more seriously. I practice state law. I can do that in Philadelphia.”
“You, in the city? What about the farm?” Bennie knew Declan loved his horse farm, a pretty A-frame in the country with a barn for his two horses.
“I keep it. I live there. I’ll get the kid down the street to take care of the horses when I’m away. When I come to visit you, I’ll do a case, and maybe I’ll use it as an excuse to come see you.” Declan smiled at her, and Bennie smiled back, but felt uncertain.
“I’m just surprised. I didn’t know you were thinking this.”
“I was. I plan ahead, long-term.”
“Could you afford it?”
“I’m pretty sure I could. I can ballpark your expenses. They’re not that much different from mine, even accounting for a higher cost of living.” Declan shrugged. “I’ve been practicing for almost ten years now. You know I live cheap. I’ve got a lot of capital. My overhead is unbelievably low. I don’t even use a secretary anymore. I use an answering service.”
“Hmm.” Bennie mulled it over, but her doubts began to surface. “You wouldn’t be doing this if Mary hadn’t left, would you?”
“Well, no,” Declan answered, after a moment.
“So you’re just trying to help me.”
“Well, yes of course. I can help you.”
“I don’t know, honey. It’s a lot to ask, and I would never ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t, I offered it.”
“But what if it’s a burden? What if it doesn’t work out, what if you don’t want to practice in Philadelphia, what if we start fussing over money, or over space, or over Xerox machines?”
Declan smiled wryly. “I’d let you have the Xerox machine. You can have custody of the Xerox machine.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“It would worry me. It’s risky.” Bennie knew from experience, but she wasn’t about to fill him in. Many years ago, she’d been in business with a boyfriend, and mixing business and pleasure hadn’t turned out to be a brilliant idea.
“I’m willing to take the risk. I think we can deal. We give it a shot. If it doesn’t work, we undo it.”
“I don’t know, I’m not sure.” Bennie used to think she was good at taking risk until she met Declan. “Let me think it over.”
“That means no.” Declan took another sip of beer.
“Not necessarily,” Bennie told him, but deep inside, she knew it did. “Okay, you’re right. It does mean no.”
“Alternatively I could lend you the money. I can stake you for six months, even longer. You could ramp up in that time.”
“Aw, thanks, but no. I would never take your money. I really appreciate your offering though.” Bennie swallowed hard, feeling a rush of love for him. She rested her head back against his arm.
“I mean it. I’m not just saying it. You can pay it back when you want to. No rush.”
“Thank you, but no.” Bennie nudged his knee. “Finish that beer, will you?”
“Then what?” Declan smiled. “The laughing gas?”
“No,” Bennie told him. “Home.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mary sat waiting for Simon, who’d texted he’d be right in. The lounge was empty, so she assumed that her and Simon’s families had either gone home or were downstairs in the cafeteria having lunch. If so, she hoped the hospital had enough baked ziti. She’d given up trying to read her email on her phone because she was too preoccupied. Suddenly she spotted Simon hurrying toward the lounge, and he caught her eye, tugging down his surgical mask to reveal a stricken expression.
Mary pocketed her phone and went to him as soon as he entered the room. “What’s the matter?” she asked, hugging him briefly. “It’s not Rachel, is it?”
“No, that’s why I said ‘no emergency’ in the text. You’re not going to believe this. Todd and OpenSpace are suing me now—for two million dollars.”
Mary couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “What are you talking about?”
“They’re saying I defamed him and the company. It’s lies, total lies!” Simon’s eyes were round with fear. “Mary, I don’t know what to do. What do I do? Where am I going to get two million bucks?”
“How do you know this? What are you talking about?” Mary hadn’t even had a chance to tell him that settlement negotiations hadn’t worked this morning.
“Look, here’s the complaint. They just served it on me, here, like, an hour ago. Some guy told the nurses he was a visitor and when I came to see who it was, he handed me the papers and said, ‘Mr. Pensiera, you’ve been served!’” Simon’s words rushed out, driven by stress. “Mary, can they do this? Just lie about things I said?”
“They served you in the hospital?” Mary couldn’t imagine the cruelty it took to serve him suit papers in the Children’s Hospital. “Let me see the complaint. Do you have it?”
“Sure, yes, right, of course, I’m just so scattered, I mean, the doctors are saying that Rachel’s white count just went up, and I just can’t even think straight. Here’s what the guy gave me.” Simon reached into his back pocket, pulled out a sheaf of legal papers, and handed them to Mary. “I guess the settlement talks this morning didn’t go so well, huh?”
“No, I’m sorry, and I was going to tell you after lunch. Bennie pitched them but she doesn’t think they’re going to settle.” Mary skimmed the front page of the complaint, which had been filed in the Common Pleas Court of Philadelphia under the caption Todd Eddington and OpenSpace v. Simon Pensiera. The blanks for plaintiff’s counsel were filled in by Coburn and Wright, LLC, so Dumbarton had farmed the case out. Coburn was one of the best boutique law firms in the city, specializing in defamation and related tort actions.
“Oh no, I was really hoping they would settle, it makes so much sense to settle, and they know they were in the wrong.”