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  “I’m sorry.” John rose hastily, as if about to address the court, which in a way, he was, and Judge Rosato wasn’t having any.

  “So that reporter’s question was true? You did make a statement that you ‘would never make partner here because you’re not a woman’?”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us this before the press conference?”

  “I didn’t think it would come up,” John answered, defensively.

  “You let us get blindsided. You let us walk into it.”

  “How did I know the reporter would know?”

  “People talk in this town. These reporters, they have sources, they cultivate them. That’s their job. How naïve are you, Foxman?”

  “I didn’t see it coming.”

  “You didn’t see it coming?” Bennie’s temper flared, but she paused, composing herself. “Okay. Let’s begin at the beginning. I want you to tell the facts, and all of the facts, so that we don’t ever get surprised again. What gave rise to you making that comment?”

  “So this is exactly what happened and why.” John licked his dry lips. “You know the antitrust matter, London Technologies. If you remember, when you got the case, you assigned the case to Anne and me, and we met with the clients, Jim and Sanjay. After the meeting, I asked you if I could be lead counsel because I’m an antitrust expert.”

  Bennie didn’t bat an eye, and Mary wondered if she would ever be able to say that she was an expert in anything so easily. Except guilt, but that didn’t count.

  “But you said no.” John swallowed visibly, his Adam’s apple almost getting caught on his cutaway collar. “You made Anne lead counsel. Just about then, you made Judy partner, and I saw the writing on the wall. I didn’t think you would promote me the way you do the others and I started to look around for another job.”

  “Let me make one thing crystal clear.” Bennie glowered, but remained in control. “I made Anne lead counsel on London Technologies because she was senior to you, not because she was a woman.”

  John frowned. “But I’ve tried more antitrust cases than she has. She hasn’t tried a single one.”

  Anne was about to say something, but Bennie waved her into silence. Mary knew Anne would be seething and didn’t blame her. Anne was a superstar lawyer, slated to become the next partner at the firm. She’d earned it through talent and hard work, but she had lived a life of people underestimating her brains because of her looks, which were so gorgeous that she’d put herself through law school working as a catalog model. Still she’d become a great girlfriend to Mary and Judy, who had come to realize that hating on pretty girls was just plain mean.

  Bennie continued, “That’s not the point, Foxman, and it’s not your decision. It’s my client, and I make the decision. In addition, after we had our initial meeting with Jim and Sanjay, it was clear to me that they liked Anne. In fact, they told me as much, afterward.”

  “Only because of her looks,” John shot back. “They were crushing on her, it was obvious.”

  Anne’s mouth dropped open. “How dare you!”

  John put up his hands, defensively. “Anne, I’m not saying that you intentionally used your looks, I’m saying that’s part of your appeal. You know that, everybody knows it. You’re hot. It helps. Appearances matter. That’s why you bought those clothes. Not everything is merit-based, even in business, and when you got the case instead of me, I didn’t think it was merit-based.”

  “It was, John!” Anne shot back, angering.

  Bennie interjected, “Murphy, don’t start—”

  Anne ignored Bennie, rising. “John, are you frigging kidding me? It doesn’t matter if I tried an antitrust case. How many people have? They’re massive and they almost never try! London Technologies isn’t going to try either—”

  “Murphy, let me deal.” Bennie waved to get Anne’s attention, but Mary knew it wouldn’t help. Anne was a redhead, which is a blonde with poor impulse control.

  “—and I can read the substantive law as well as you, because that’s what any lawyer does in every case, and you may act like you’re the ‘brain behind the case’ but believe it or not, I’m a real live lawyer, not Lawyer Barbie—”

  “Murphy, let me—”

  “—and as for Jim and Sanjay, maybe in the beginning they liked my looks, but I ignored that and they got over it. That happens all the time, and I deal with it, on my own, because nobody feels sorry for the pretty girl. Now Jim and Sanjay respect me for my work, and it’s really sad that you don’t! And while we’re on the subject—”

  “Murphy, let—”

  “—John, I tell you, your problem is that you don’t like taking orders from women! You don’t like it when I tell you what to do, even though I am lead counsel. You resist me. You don’t listen. You come back at me, telling me that we don’t need whatever I want. For example, in London Tech, when I didn’t want to hire McManus, I told you to start over and get us a permanent associate. Instead, you ignored me and got a contract lawyer. If I were a man, you’d respect me. You’d do what I say when I say it, no question—”

  “Murphy—”

  “—and I don’t even think you like it that the partners in this firm are female! You’re the sexist, not us, and anyway, whatever you think, you have a helluva nerve bad-mouthing us around town! A helluva nerve!”

  “Murphy, enough!” Bennie opened the conference-room door. “You made your point, but I think you should go. Anything we say is discoverable, and you don’t need to be part of it. Thank you very much.”

  “Fine, I get it.” Anne stalked toward the door, her glossy hair flying. “I’m out!”

  Mary felt terrible, seeing Anne and John at odds, choosing opposite sides. She used to think that John liked it here, but she had been wrong. They had never turned on each other before, and it had always been Rosato & DiNunzio against the world. The fight forced her to accept the reality that their happy little law firm might be a thing of the past.

  Bennie closed the door and returned her attention to John. “Let’s get back to the facts. I’d like to know which statements you made with regard to your feelings that we discriminated against you.”

  John winced. “I didn’t say that, and really, I don’t even think that.”

  “But you said something like it?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you say exactly?” Bennie shot back, in cross-examination mode.

  “I don’t know, just, basically what the reporter said, that ‘I don’t think I’ll make partner at Rosato because I’m not a woman.’” John grimaced. “But really I don’t think that you discriminate per se.”

  Bennie’s eyes flared. “That’s the definition of discrimination per se.”

  “But I don’t really think it, not really, I just said it, I should have thought before I spoke, I didn’t know—”

  “Enough.” Bennie cut him off with a hand chop. “To whom did you say that?”

  “The firms that interviewed me.”

  “Who? How many firms?”

  John hesitated. “I have to think about that.”

  “Were there that many?”

  “No, I just have to think. I don’t remember them off the top of my head.”

  Listening, Mary felt a wave of sadness. She hated seeing John on the spot and she hated what he was saying. She glanced at Judy, who was biting her lip, her head tilted down. Mary knew she would be feeling responsible, since she was closest to him.

  “Foxman, how could you not remember? You don’t know where you applied?”

  “Okay.” Flustered, John raised a hand. “I know Hunter & Logue and Berger, Ginn. I’d have to think of the others. I sent the resume to a headhunter, and he’s the one who put it out there.”

  “Which headhunter?”

  “Dean Slovak.”

  “You contacted Dean or he contacted you?”

  “He contacted me.”

  “Did he have a job opening in mind or he was just fishing?”
<
br />   “He didn’t say, but he called me after Judy made partner. It was my lowest point, and I just sent in the resume.”

  “When was this, exactly?”

  “A few months ago. I have to check my calendar.”

  “Do you remember which firm or firms you made the statement to?’”

  “It was Hunter & Logue, I’m pretty sure.”

  “Did you say that at more than one firm?”

  “I have to think about that, but I don’t think so.” John hesitated. “They asked why I wanted to leave, so I had to give the reason.”

  Bennie folded her arms. “Did you give all of them that reason?”

  “No, only Hunter.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Because I was most interested in Hunter. They needed to fill a position on a new antitrust matter, and that appealed to me. So we talked in more depth.”

  “With whom did you interview, do you remember? I know most of those guys.”

  “Sure, Mark Jacobowitz.”

  Bennie looked as if she were about to say something, then kept it to herself, but Mary knew how upset she would be inside. John’s statement not only damaged their case, it embarrassed all of them. Even Mary hated to think that John would say that about her, around town. It wasn’t true, and she knew tons of people in the legal community. Her reputation mattered, especially in Philly.

  Bennie continued, “So Mark’s the one you made the comment to. You’re not sure if you said it to anybody else?”

  “I don’t think I did.”

  “Did you interview with anyone at Hunter besides Mark?”

  “Yes, an associate.”

  “What was his name?”

  “It was Mark’s son. Bradley.”

  “Did you make the comment to Bradley, too?”

  “Oops, yes, I forgot about him. I guess I felt comfortable with him.”

  Mary had no idea how they would mitigate the damage, and she was angry at the unfairness of the accusation. They hadn’t discriminated against John because he was a man, and he wasn’t senior enough to be a partner yet. Meanwhile, Hunter & Logue was an all-male firm, but nobody thought that was discriminatory. That was the status quo.

  Bennie pursed her lips. “Did you take notes after any of these interviews?”

  “No.”

  “Did you exchange emails in connection with any of these interviews?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like to have copies of them.”

  “Sure thing,” John said, his tone turning agreeable. “I also talked to Mark about the possibility of partnership in the next year. He said that was definitely something that they would consider.”

  “Did Hunter make you an offer?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you do?”

  “I declined.”

  “Why?”

  John flushed slightly. “The pay was lower.”

  “Hmph,” Bennie said, without elaboration. “Are you negotiating with them?”

  “No, we were too far apart.”

  “Did anyone else make any offers?”

  “I haven’t heard back yet.” John sighed, sensing his cross-examination was over. “Bennie, as I said before, I think I should resign.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  “Why? I mean, how can I work here anymore?” John raised his hands in appeal, obviously at a loss.

  “How can you not? If you leave, it will confirm the reporter’s story, which we did not do in real time. And it leaves a huge, gaping hole in our London Technologies case. I don’t know how we can stage that litigation without you.” Bennie gazed at him evenly. “Bottom line, the best way to mitigate the damage to this firm is for you to work here and for us not to speak of this anymore. But it’s your choice, and I leave it to you.”

  “I’d like to think about it.”

  “That is your right and privilege.” Bennie opened the conference-room door. “Now if you’ll give us some time in private.”

  “Again, I’m very sorry, to everyone,” John said to Mary and Judy, then headed for the door.

  Bennie let him out and closed the door behind him. “Well, well, well,” she said, exhaling heavily. “We have an enemy in our midst.”

  Judy sighed, miserably. “He’s not really our enemy, is he?”

  “Yes, but no matter.” Bennie’s eyes glittered. “Let’s take a page from Machiavelli’s book. ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ We can deal.”

  Mary looked up, worried sick. “What do we do now?”

  “We review the documents and try to understand the facts of our own case.” Bennie gestured at the credenza, where she had put the documents that John had given her. “In other words, we get to work.”

  “Arg, I am so sorry.” Judy leaned back in her chair, as if pressed there by some unseen weight. “I can’t believe he did this.”

  “Carrier, it’s not your fault.” Bennie slid her phone from her blazer pocket. “Let’s call Lao-Tzu before he reads it online.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A copper sun dipped behind the flat roofs, satellite discs, and trolley wires that hung over South Philly like an urban canopy, and Mary braced herself before she went into her parents’ house. She wished she could have gone straight home after the long afternoon at work, but her parents wanted to see her more often now that she was pregnant, which had upgraded her already lofty status as Amazing Daughter to that of Magical Grandchild Vessel.

  Her parents, Vita and Matty DiNunzio, lived on Mercy Street, which was lined on either side by two-story redbrick rowhouses, differentiated by the color of their shutters (generally black), the railing on their front stoops (wrought-iron preferred), and the contents of their bay windows (Eagles, Phillies, or Flyers paraphernalia required, religious statuary optional, Virgin Mary always on point). Mary had grown up in this house, with its scrollwork D in the metal screen door, like all the other neighbors. When she was little, she’d thought it stood for “door” until she realized it stood for DiNunzio, DaTuno, and DeTizio, because back then, everybody was Italian-American. Nowadays the screen doors had changed, but the people were still the same. Which was the way of South Philly, if not the Tao.

  “MARE, IS THAT YOU ONNA STOOP?” her father shouted through the screen door, because his hearing aid plugged his ear like a plastic cork, insulating him from all sound.

  “Yes, Pop!” Mary opened the door and entered the long, rectangular house, which was so stuffed with people that it reminded her of a manicotti with too much ricotta filling.

  Her father was watching the Phillies game with her husband, Anthony Rotunno, and her father’s three best friends, The Tonys—Tony-From-Down-The-Block LoMonaco, Pigeon Tony Lucia, and Tony “Two Feet” Pensiera, whose nickname had a nickname, namely Feet. They were honorary uncles and hung out at the house, like an octogenarian street gang. Beyond the living room was the kitchen, which held her mother and her mother-in-law, Elvira, whom Mary secretly called El Virus. Most people would think that a kitchen with two women wasn’t as full as a living room with five men, but these two women meant that the kitchen was not only dangerously over occupancy, but possibly thermonuclear. Mary’s mother and El Virus were as different as old-school and no-school, but lately they’d been getting along unusually well, both counting down to the birth of their grandchild, coming soon from a uterus near you.

  “Hey, honey!” Her husband Anthony came over, smiling his warm smile, his espresso-hued eyes meeting hers, telegraphing I know you’re beat but we’ll get through this together, then giving her a big hug.

  “Hi, love you.” Mary hugged him back, melting into the comfort of his arms and soft Oxford shirt. She knew he must’ve heard about the lawsuit against them, though she hadn’t had a spare minute to text him, since they’d worked all afternoon preparing their Answer and discussing it with Roger on the phone. Luckily, her parents and The Tonys didn’t go online, except Tony-From-Down-The-Block, who supplemented his Social Security pla
ying PokerStars.com.

  “MARE, HOW YA DOIN’? HOW YA FEEL? COME AN’ SIDDOWN!” Her father grabbed Mary and hugged her, and The Tonys clustered around her like a cloud of cigar smoke and Ben Gay fumes.

  “Mare, you’re getting bigger every day!” Feet patted her belly, and Mary didn’t stop him. Everybody in the family touched her belly, and she figured it was preparing the baby for DiNunzio World, where you had to hug and kiss everybody anytime you left the room.

  “Mary, it’s so good to see you!” Tony-From-Down-The-Block took her right arm. “You feeling okay?”

  “Maria, Maria!” Pigeon Tony took her other arm, leading her into the kitchen, where she was love-attacked by her mother.

  “Maria, come and siddown!” Her mother tugged her into the kitchen and placed her bodily in a seat at the table, which was already set for dinner.

  “Honey, you look so tired!” El Virus hustled over with a full plate of ravioli covered in tomato sauce, or “gravy” in South-Phillyspeak. “You gotta eat somethin’ or you’re gonna faint!”

  “Mare!” El Virus picked up Mary’s fork, stabbed a ravioli, and was just about to try to put it in Mary’s mouth when Anthony intercepted the fork.

  “Ma, stop, she can feed herself.” Anthony set the fork down on Mary’s plate.

  “But Ant, look at her! She looks so tired!”

  “She looks fine,” Anthony said, patting Mary’s arm.

  Tony-From-Down-The-Block said, “I think she looks good.”

  Feet said, “I think she looks good, too.”

  “OF COURSE SHE DOES! SHE’S GORGEOUS!”

  Mary smiled at her father, but let the others talk, having grown accustomed to everyone discussing her as if she weren’t in the room, deciding what she should and shouldn’t do, what she should and shouldn’t eat, or whether she should or shouldn’t work, exercise, or otherwise exist.

  El Virus was saying, “Matty, are you blind? Take a good look at your daughter! Her face is white as a ghost!”

  Anthony looked over at his mother. “Mom, she’s not sick, she’s pregnant.”

  “Right.” Mary managed another smile, but sometimes pregnant felt like sick, though it would’ve been politically incorrect to say so.