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  “Yes,” Mary answered again. They had almost been evicted from their offices. The caseload had gone up and down, and so had their cash flow. Bennie had kept them all together, doing everything she could to make payroll and not fire anyone. Back then, Mary hadn’t been sure she even wanted to be a lawyer, but then she’d found special-education law, which was her true niche. She did well and did good, for children.

  “Now here we all are, over a decade later, and all of us partners, and this happens?” Bennie raised the Complaint like a flaming torch, but not like Lady Liberty, more like an angry mob. “You know whose fault this is? Mine, all mine. I’ve been too lax.”

  “No, you haven’t,” Mary said, meaning it. She was already thinking along different lines. “Bennie, with respect, you’re on the wrong track.”

  “How?” Bennie whirled around. “Are you going to tell me this isn’t a disaster?”

  “No, it is. But I have some ideas about how it came about.” Mary gestured to the chair catty-corner to hers, opposite Judy. “Please, sit down. I have a hunch.”

  Judy wiped crumbs off her chin. “Good, Mare. I like your hunches.”

  “Thanks.” Mary rallied as Bennie stalked over, threw the Complaint onto the polished conference table, and sat down. “So Nick Machiavelli filed this suit against us. He threatened that someday he’d get a rematch, you remember.”

  “I remember.” Bennie folded her arms.

  Judy reached for the coffee carafe. “I hate that guy, I hate everything about him. He’s a phony, a fraud. Can you imagine, trying to convince people that you’re a direct descendant of the real Machiavelli?”

  “It is his real last name, and I know his family from the neighborhood.” Mary had gone to Goretti, a sister high school to Nick Machiavelli’s school, Newman, and his pretensions were the least ridiculous thing about him. “The problem is, the man is an excellent lawyer, mainly because he’s ruthless. Nothing stops him. The ends justify the means, so maybe it’s in his DNA.”

  “He’s not going to get away with this. He won’t even know what hit him. I’m going to devote the full resources of this firm to this litigation. We’re going to pulverize him.” Bennie’s blue eyes flashed, in battle mode, and Mary had never seen her like this. She knew that Bennie loved a good fight, but she didn’t know that Bennie loved a good war.

  “My point is, think about what’s going on here. We know the shenanigans he pulled on that last case, right? He waged a proxy war. He sent lawyers to oppose me. So now we know how he works. He’s indirect.”

  “Right,” Bennie answered, nodding.

  “And?” Judy shifted forward in the chair. “Where are you going with this? What’s your hunch?”

  “Think about this. Two of these plaintiffs are lawyers none of us met. We don’t even know where their resumes are. We have to go hunt them up.” Mary slid the Complaint over, checking the caption. “But the third, Stephen McManus, is the one from that interview with John—”

  Bennie interrupted, “I still cannot believe Foxman said what he said. I don’t want to fire him, I want to kill him. How imprudent can you possibly be? And—”

  “Wait.” Mary raised a hand, probably the only time she had ever silenced Bennie Rosato. “John told us that the interviewee was chatty. And somehow, the conversation must’ve come around to how it is to work with women. And that’s when John throws in his two cents, that he feels out of place, which ends up in the Complaint. Now what does that tell you?”

  “That John should be fired!”

  “No, think about it.” Mary got so excited she felt the baby kick, but this wasn’t the time to say so. “We know Machiavelli has wanted a rematch. There hasn’t been another case on which we’re opposing counsel, so he made one. I bet that, one way or another, these plaintiffs were connected to Machiavelli before he became their lawyer.”

  Bennie blinked.

  Judy’s mouth dropped open.

  “Right?” Mary felt the baby kick again. “John advertised for an associate, and I bet that Machiavelli saw the ad, sent McManus to us for a job interview, and coached him to get John talking about what it was like to work with us. And he had the others send in resumes, too. In other words, he manufactured the lawsuit against us.”

  Bennie’s blue eyes rounded. “Yes, that’s completely possible. They don’t have much of a case without Foxman’s statement. It’s essentially an admission.”

  Judy gasped. “That must be what happened. John was set up. He was entrapped.”

  Bennie looked over. “He still shouldn’t have said it, Carrier.”

  “I know, and I feel terrible that he thinks that.”

  “I don’t care what he thinks, I care what he says.” Bennie snorted. “And it was wrong and disloyal for him to say such a thing to anybody outside of this firm, especially an interviewee. I would’ve fired him if I thought it wouldn’t hurt our defense—or if he wouldn’t file a retaliation claim against us.”

  Judy frowned. “He would never do that.”

  “Never say never,” Bennie shot back, but Mary wanted to return to the subject. John was a great guy, and she knew he had a great heart, even serving as the devoted guardian of his brother, William, who had cerebral palsy. Something told Mary that John had been taken advantage of by Machiavelli, and all she had to do was convince Bennie.

  “So Bennie, my point is that nothing we or John did really caused this lawsuit. It’s not that we’re too lax, and we certainly don’t discriminate against men. We were set up, too—”

  Bennie’s smartphone started ringing, and she slid it out of her pocket, checked the screen, and pressed a button to decline the call. “That’s a reporter I know from the Inquirer. It must be about this case. The timing can’t be coincidental.”

  “Agree.” Judy’s phone started ringing, faceup on the conference table. She glanced at the screen, declining the call. “And that’s somebody from the ABA Journal.”

  Mary’s phone rang, too, but she let it go, assuming it was more of same. The baby kicked again, and she wondered if he or she would be a lawyer or a reporter one day. After he/she stopped causing so much gas.

  Suddenly there was a knock on the door, which opened, and Marshall popped her head through. “Excuse me, but there’s media calling for you about the lawsuit. Do you want to take these calls? What do we say?”

  “No comment,” Bennie, Mary, and Judy answered, in lawyerly unison.

  “Got it, thanks.” Marshall flashed a shaky smile before she closed the door.

  Mary heaved a sigh. “Honestly, this is how Machiavelli operates. He’ll try to ruin our reputation. His goal isn’t just to win this lawsuit, it’s to crush us.”

  Judy cringed. “You’re exaggerating, right?”

  “Not this time,” Mary answered, without hesitation.

  Bennie mulled it over. “DiNunzio, come on. The damages can’t be that much.”

  “It’s not the damages, it’s what just happened. The press. He’s trying to ruin our reputation as a firm. And it’s so gossipy, they’ll all run with the ball. How do you think potential clients will react? They’ll stay away in droves.”

  Bennie bore down. “Then we lock and load. Machiavelli has been circling us for too long, and it’s time that we finished him off, for good.”

  Judy nodded. “Agree. We can take him.”

  Mary forced a smile, but she knew Machiavelli better than they did, so she was less than optimistic. In fact, less-than-optimistic was her middle name.

  Bennie checked her watch. “We need a lawyer, ASAP. We can’t represent ourselves since we’re going to be fact witnesses.”

  “Who would you hire, Bennie? Should we go big firm or little?” Mary shifted, trying to get comfortable, but there was a human being on her bladder. “Machiavelli runs his own shop. He’s probably got twelve associates working for him. He’s going to throw everything he has behind this case, too.”

  Judy sipped her coffee. “I say small firm. There are plenty of great boutique firms in
the city. We want somebody who will dedicate themselves to us. Who identifies with us.”

  Mary didn’t agree. “Hmm, I say big firm. We want a show of force. But do we hire a man or woman? I say a man, for obvious reasons.”

  “I say a woman, because we want to win.” Judy smiled crookedly.

  Bennie scoffed. “I’ll be damned if I pick a lawyer by gender. I never have and I’m not about to start now.”

  “Then who?” Judy turned to Bennie, waiting for her answer, and Mary did the same. Even though they were both Bennie’s partners, they used to be her associates and old habits die hard.

  “We need to think strategically in our choice of counsel. It kills me that we can’t represent ourselves, because we’re the best.”

  “I second that emotion.” Judy smiled.

  Mary added, “And obviously, we need somebody who’s brilliant, but who won’t be intimidated by Machiavelli.”

  Bennie’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Not just somebody who’s not intimidated, but somebody who can deal with how manipulative Machiavelli is and the fact that he plays outside the rules. Machiavelli is intense, relentless, and unconventional, which can throw even the best of lawyers off their game. It’s like guerilla warfare against conventional warfare.”

  “You’re right,” Mary said, changing her mind. “So that would leave out most big-firm lawyers because they tend to proceed in an orderly fashion.”

  Judy shifted forward. “And come to think of it, it would eliminate smaller firms, too. We need a shop with the horsepower to deal with the crapstorm that’s coming, even the media.”

  “I got it!” Bennie snapped her fingers. “I know exactly who we need. Roger Vitez. He’s the lawyer’s lawyer.”

  “I’ve never heard of him.” Judy frowned.

  “Me neither,” Mary said, worried. She wasn’t sure she wanted to place her legal career in the hands of some unknown quantity.

  “Because that’s the way he likes it. He’s a secret weapon.” Bennie picked up her phone. “I hope I can reach him. He doesn’t have a cell phone.”

  Mary didn’t like the sound of that, either. “What kind of lawyer doesn’t have a cell phone?”

  “One who doesn’t need the work,” Judy interjected. “Bennie, does he specialize in employment discrimination?”

  “No, legal malpractice. Lawyers hire Roger when their ass is in a sling.” Bennie thumbed through her phone contacts. “He’s a little odd, no suit-and-tie, no phone, no watch, but he never loses. He has a great reputation.”

  Judy caught Mary’s eye. “Then how come I never heard of him?”

  “Think about it.” Bennie lifted an eyebrow. “Didn’t you ever wonder why you never read about legal malpractice cases in the newspaper? Even in the legal journals? Because lawyers who get sued don’t talk about it, the bar takes care of its own and newspapers take care of advertisers.”

  Judy frowned. “So legal malpractice is booming, which is good and bad news.”

  Mary remained worried. “But does he know employment law?”

  Bennie put the phone to her ear. “I’m sure he knows enough, and he’s the strategic choice for this case. The only question is, will he take us?”

  Judy scoffed. “Who wouldn’t? We’re arguably the most high-profile firm in the city.”

  “Plus we’re nice,” Mary added.

  “Speak for yourself,” Bennie said, without a smile.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Vitez, LLC, was housed in a unique office building, a brownstone that had been stripped to its exposed brick walls, then glassed in and dramatically renovated as a glass box, with an atrium in the center that served as a waiting room, furnished with glass end tables and modern sectionals that matched a large square of sisal. Glass balconies ringed the atrium at the second and third floors, where the associates’ offices were located, also with glass walls, through which they could be seen working. All Mary could think was how much Vitez spent on Windex.

  Roger Vitez himself looked in his late forties, thanks to salt-and-pepper hair cut in careful layers and long sideburns that tapered to a matching beard, immaculately trimmed. He was tall, trim, and handsome, though his features were precise to the point of delicacy, with a long narrow face accentuated by a long thin nose, intelligent blue eyes bracketed by fine crow’s-feet, and fine lips pursed as tightly as a coin slot turned on its side. He was dressed in a black turtleneck and light gray wool pants, more like an art director than a lawyer. He didn’t have a wedding ring, which didn’t surprise Mary, because he seemed like a super-picky kind of guy, which was her least favorite.

  She and Judy remained quiet as Bennie pitched Roger their case, and Mary took in his office, which was equally unique. It was another large glass box, with a glass desk, glass table, and more glass walls. Transparent halogen pendants shone from black tracks that coordinated with the black frames of clerestory windows, and except for Vitez’s laptop, there was no lawyer paraphernalia like legal pads, memos, red accordion files, family photos, framed diplomas, or Lucite awards. The bookshelves were also glass, and the books weren’t the typical Federal Rules of Civil Procedure or Purdon’s Pennsylvania Statutes, but Lao-Tzu, The Way of Buddha, and The Tibetan Book of the Dead.

  “Well, Bennie,” Roger said, after Bennie was finished. He tented his slim fingers and leaned back in his black mesh chair. “Thank you for coming over. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline the representation. With gratitude, of course.”

  Mary and Judy exchanged looks, but didn’t say anything, since Bennie wanted to do all the talking. This was a revolting development, as far as Mary was concerned. Bennie had spent the cab ride here raving about Vitez, that he’d graduated from Harvard Law, clerked for the Supremes, and was notoriously choosy about his caseload. Now that he didn’t want them, Mary wanted him even more. She fell for the Supply-Limited sales pitch every time.

  Bennie leaned forward. “Roger, you have to take this case.”

  “I’m very flattered, but I’m sure anybody in the Bar Association would jump at the chance to represent you. You know absolutely everyone. I suggest you give any one of them a call.”

  “But you are my first and only choice. I want you. We all do.”

  “We do,” Mary said, but didn’t say more.

  “We really do,” Judy chimed in.

  “I wish I could, but I can’t.” Roger smiled, tenting his slim fingers, but Bennie was getting frustrated.

  “Roger, why not?”

  “For starters, I have a bad feeling about this lawsuit. I read the Complaint you emailed me and the Pennsylvania Human Relations Act. I sense that there’s more here than meets the eye. You know in movies, when they say, ‘this time it’s personal’? I get the same sense about this lawsuit.”

  Bennie hesitated. “Okay, you’re right, it’s personal. The attorney on the other side is Nick Machiavelli, do you know him?”

  “I’ve heard of him.”

  “He’s an old nemesis of Mary’s, and she beat him last case and he’s coming back with a vengeance. We believe he put the plaintiffs up to this matter. He manufactured the case.”

  Roger blinked. “So my intuition was correct.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I decline the representation.”

  “Roger, come on. You represent lawyers accused of legal malpractice. How much more personal can it get?”

  “This. A personal vendetta.”

  Bennie blinked. “How did you even know that from the Complaint?”

  “I asked myself why the plaintiffs are proceeding under the Pennsylvania Human Relations Act as opposed to Title VII.”

  “Our firm is too small to be covered by Title VII. We’re only four employees and three partners.”

  Roger raised a hand. “That’s not what’s significant here. Although both the federal and state statutes outlaw discrimination on the basis of gender, the Pennsylvania Human Relations Act has sharper teeth. Most significantly, under the PHRA, a plaintiff can sue a defendant personally a
nd individually. That’s what they’re doing in this case. You three were named as individual defendants. That’s not possible under Title VII.”

  “Damn, I should have realized that.” Bennie pursed her lips, frowning. Judy and Mary exchanged glances. They should have realized that, too, but they’d been too upset. The baby kicked hard, like a rebuke.

  Roger frowned slightly. “This provision weaponizes the statute. You’re personally liable for any damages. It also throws your liability coverage into question. If you’re not covered by insurance, then each of you would have to pay damages personally.”

  “Understood.” Bennie nodded, and Mary felt a wave of fear. She and Anthony didn’t have the financial cushion to withstand a personal judgment. And she felt a wave of guilt, too, for getting him, Bennie, and Judy, into this mess. She was Machiavelli’s real target, but they were caught in the crossfire.

  Roger continued, “Secondly, under the PHRA, there’s no cap on compensatory damages, as under Title VII. Under Title VII, damages against even a firm of fourteen employees are capped at $50,000. Punitive damages are available under Title VII, but not under the PHRA, but they’re so rarely awarded that it doesn’t make a difference for your purposes.”

  “So the exposure is broader.”

  “Correct.” Roger untented his fingers. “You have thirty days to answer the Complaint. Though extensions are freely given, I would suggest you do not extend.”

  “I absolutely agree. That’s how we litigate. Even as defendants, we’re aggressive. We take the lead and never let go. In fact, we need to file an answer to this, right away.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  Bennie frowned. “Why? Don’t you want to take the initiative?”

  “Yes, I do. That’s why I would wait.”

  “How is waiting ‘taking the initiative’?” Bennie asked, but Roger only smiled, somewhat condescendingly, to Mary’s eye.

  “I have the same question,” Mary said, backing Bennie up.

  “Then I’ll explain,” Roger answered calmly. “To answer quickly is to react to Machiavelli. When you react to Machiavelli, you give him the initiative by your actions. Under the rules, you have ample time to answer. You respond to the rules, not to Machiavelli. Do you see the difference?”