Nearly thirty of her staff and a handful of significant others had stopped by for happy hour after learning she was picking up the bar tab to celebrate their case going forward. Even Hank’s son Mark had joined them, apparently at Jalinda’s invitation. They were tucked away in the same intimate corner where Theo had sat with Celia.
Standing so she could watch the hostess station for Celia’s arrival, Theo chatted with Sabrina, who wore a black silk shirt that showed a line of cleavage. A few months ago, that would have been a temptation…or at least a regret. With Celia now holding her heart, no one else could turn her head.
“The Marietta case you gave me last week,” Sabrina said, “the woman who said her boss fired her after she asked him to stop giving her shoulder rubs…the day after I filed, he threatened to fire anyone at the agency who talked to me. I was thinking it was time to pull a page from the Theo Constantine Playbook—a press conference in front of their insurance office.”
It was exactly what Theo would do but she had doubts about whether Sabrina would have the clout to command the media’s attention. “What’s your hook?”
“My hook? You mean other than highlighting what a pig he is?”
“I mean why should the press care? What’s in it for them?” She took mercy on the young attorney, whose legal skills outweighed her public relations talents. “You have to persuade them to come out and cover the event. Make it so compelling they can’t afford not to be there—tease them that you’ll have an important statement that could significantly impact local insurance rates. Then announce you’re amending your suit to include the parent company, and will be seeking punitive damages in the amount of whatever Philip tells you is workable.”
“Whoa! That’s a big deal.”
It certainly was, considering the plaintiff had asked only for reinstatement and back wages. Sometimes it took asking for much more to get what you really wanted. “Convince your client you have to go big. Make sure she’s okay with the publicity because this elevates it to a major case.
Your
major case…so you should do the press conference.”
Sabrina obviously was stunned by her newfound authority, since Theo and Kendra usually handled the firm’s dealings with the press. In fact, Constantine and Associates needed another voice and Sabrina’s was perfect. She was attractive, well-spoken.
Philip leaned over Theo’s shoulder and said, “There’s your girlfriend. She looks almost as happy as you.”
Indeed, Celia was wearing a broad grin as she greeted the hostess and scanned the small crowd looking for familiar faces. Though Theo had insisted the impromptu party was “come as you are,” it was clear she’d rushed home to change into something she hoped would impress—black skinny jeans with a sparkly sleeveless top. No way had she worn that to Forbes Hall.
Theo waved her over and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I was about to send out a search and rescue team.”
“Our train went out of service, so I had to wait for the next one,” Celia explained, taking a flute of champagne from a passing cocktail waitress. “Looks like I have some catching up to do.”
“And some more people to meet. This is Sabrina Dawson, one of our junior associates.” She nudged Celia forward. “And this is my…uh-oh, we haven’t traded friendship rings yet, so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to call her. Oh, what the hell…Sabrina, this is my
girlfriend
, Celia Perone.”
“Hi Sabrina. I guess I’ve graduated from star witness.”
“I’ll say. We’ve all been dying to meet the reason Theo’s in such a good mood these days. I even heard a rumor she’s planning to take a vacation.”
“Except now that’s iffy because we have a case to prep for,” Theo said. “I can’t wait to start discovery. A few thousand emails, text messages. Something will turn up. Finding one person who’ll sing a different tune is all it takes to make their whole story fall apart.”
“Celia!” Gloria materialized with her husband Lewis in tow. “Welcome to our little soiree. A good excuse for Theo to bring you out and show you off. But forget the fun stuff. Those days are over for a while. Things get crazy once we finally get access to evidence.”
“If she gets any crazier, we’re in a world of hurt.”
Theo was pleased to find Celia relaxed and brimming with self-assurance around new faces and others she’d met only once. Again she reminded herself Celia was an actor by training.
“Hello again, Philip.” Celia stepped forward to receive a kiss on the cheek. “Is Sofia here too?”
“Working late. I swear she’s going to have that baby in her office.” He squeezed Theo’s shoulder and offered a toast. “Congrats, Theo. I know you were worried about this one being a loser.”
She glanced at Celia, clearly wishing he hadn’t been quite so blunt. Yes, she’d worried they wouldn’t make it this far. But while she’d warned Celia this was a tough case, she’d been careful to mask the depth of her pessimism.
“Let’s just say I’m relieved.”
Celia touched her glass to Theo’s. “That makes two of us. You said you were worried about it, but you always tried to be optimistic. I had a feeling it was even tougher than you were letting on.”
Philip, who clearly had no idea he was talking out of school, went on, “This case has always been tricky, at least from a legal standpoint. A long shot if you want to know the truth. We needed all the stars to align—the right judge on the right day after a great lunch. Those go against us sometimes, so it’s nice when they break our way.”
Desperate for a change of subject, Theo spun Celia around to the couple in the corner. “And look at that. Hank’s son Mark showed up to celebrate with Jalinda. I think love is in the air.”
“I could have told you that. Those sparks were flying on draft night.”
Theo whispered so the others couldn’t hear, “I seem to recall some other sparks flying that night too.”
“You think that was something, wait till we celebrate this.”
“I like the way you think.”
The hostess slithered through the group at the bar and presented an envelope to Theo. “This came for you just now. A courier. I asked him to wait but he said it wasn’t necessary, just to make sure you got it.”
Theo frowned as she looked at the return address. “Hubbard-McCaffrey. They’re local, aren’t they?”
“Mostly estate law, if I’m not mistaken,” Philip said. “Barry Hubbard’s a runner. I met him a couple of years ago when we did the Hotlanta half-marathon.”
She tore into the envelope and unfolded its contents, a brief letter. “Son of a bitch.”
Gloria snatched it from her hands and began to read. “…is to inform you that Donald Lipscomb has retained our legal services to represent him in his case before the District Court of the State of Georgia,
Lipscomb v. Harwood University, et al.
, effective immediately.”
Struck by a sudden wave of fatigue, Theo slowly lowered herself to a padded bench in the center of the cocktail lounge. Knees shaking, stomach roiling. “We’ve been fired.”
* * *
Within seconds, word rippled through the bar and the chatter stopped. All eyes were on Theo, her red face, her cracking voice. And the angry
slap-slap-slap
of the folded letter against her palm.
“What does this mean?” Celia asked.
“That we no longer have a case,” Philip said. “It’s over before it ever started.”
“For us, anyway,” Theo added. “My guess is Hubbard-McCaffrey has already negotiated the settlement. Lipscomb will walk away with a few hundred thousand dollars and sign a confidentiality agreement.”
Gloria leaned against a bar table with her arms folded, staring disgustedly at the floor. “Then Harwood will put out a statement announcing a settlement with Lipscomb out of sympathy for his loss. An undisclosed sum, of course. But not admitting any liability.”
For Celia, it was a devastating outcome. “Why would he do that? Your case is for millions of dollars.”
“Because they convinced him we would probably lose.” Theo rubbed her face briskly and groaned. “It’s my own fault. Lipscomb as plaintiff was never that strong to begin with. Hubbard-McCaffrey noticed and jumped on it.”
“But isn’t that unethical?” Celia asked.
She shrugged. “Depends on how you look at it. They offered to put money in Lipscomb’s pocket right now. He has the right to take it if he’s worried about rolling the dice.”
Gloria sat on the cushion beside Theo and patted her knee. “And let’s face it. They probably told him Harwood would never settle with you in a million years because of all the damage you’ve inflicted on their reputation.”
Celia could well imagine such a backroom conversation among the board and administration. Even those who were offended by Harwood’s handling of Hayley’s rape had a fiduciary responsibility to protect the university. It was nothing short of shameful that didn’t include protecting the rights of female students to be safe.
“At least we won a couple of rounds,” Philip said. “Frazier and Caldwell missed out on their big payday. I’d say we struck a forty-million-dollar blow right there. Plus they might be going to jail. That’s a bonus.”
It was fine to find consolation in that, but Celia found it ultimately meaningless if it meant this could happen to another woman at Harwood. And there was the matter of blowback—if the case ended with the university escaping liability, what did that mean for her status as a whistleblower? Was she still protected or not?
“I’m sorry, Celia. I was always worried about getting your hopes up too high.”
“No, Philip’s right. We got a win. And I won’t be surprised now if Harwood throws these players under the bus. I’m not saying they’ll order the campus police to investigate, but maybe at least now they’ll cooperate with the DA.”
“Don’t count on it,” Theo said, utterly dejected. “They can’t afford to do anything to implicate themselves if the feds decide to launch a Title IX investigation related to sexual assault. No, this is exactly what they needed—a way to put it to bed without having to admit anything.”
After a long silence, Philip glumly added, “Bastards.”
“And on that dreary note…” Gloria slapped her knees and stood. “It looks like the party’s over.”
It wasn’t over for Theo, who set aside her champagne and ordered a Crown Royal on the rocks.
Philip leaned into Celia and murmured, “Look out. Theo’s not much of a drinker.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll see that she gets home.”
With the party atmosphere shattered, staff began trickling away, most stopping by with condolences to Theo. She was well into her second whiskey when Gloria and Lewis, the last of the revelers, left.
“You’ve probably…noticed this already.” Theo’s words were faltering and deliberate. “I’m on my way to getting sort of…uncharacteristically…drunk.”
Celia put an arm around her waist and nestled under her chin. “Under the circumstances, I’d say you’re allowed.”
“I don’t usually drink this much. You know why?”
“I assumed it was because there were so many people out there who’d get too much pleasure out of seeing you picked up for DUI.”
“S’part of it. But the main reason”—she paused to polish off her whiskey and wave for another—“is ’cause the last time I did…I was with Gloria and Lewis. Drinks, dinner…more drinks. Then we went on this gallery walk in Buckhead…and I met thissss fascinating artist.”
The puddles had dried on the terrace bar, enough to entice the hotel’s business guests out for a drink. Their waitress however remained loyal to Theo, who’d just run up a thousand-dollar bar bill, ignoring them in favor of fetching her refill.
“Charla Peok…she did that purple and gray portrait that’s over the bed in the guest room. I found her riveting. Until we got to her place…and I met her husband. He was so excited…like she’d brought home a puppy for both of them to play with.” She said it almost forlornly, staring off into space while shaking her head.
It was all Celia could do not to laugh.
“I really liked her…but no. Just no. How did I not see that coming?”
“How could you have known, Theo?”
“But I…she thought I was into it. I wasn’t mad or anything. I just felt stupid.” Theo, her face flushed from the alcohol, was clearly making a concerted effort at proper enunciation. “But I was too drunk to even ask if there was somebody else. So I don’t get drunk much anymore. Except now.”
“It’s okay. I’m here to make sure you don’t go home to someone else’s husband.” Celia nursed her club soda, which she’d ordered after Lipscomb’s news. “Consider this a public service. You’re keeping me sober tonight, because I’d be the one getting drunk if you weren’t.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I let you down.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. This wasn’t your fault.” She brushed Theo’s hair from her eyes and placed a light kiss on her temple. “It occurred to me though…with this case over, Harwood doesn’t have to be nice to me anymore. I could walk in on Monday morning and find my theater budget slashed to nothing. Or all my travel funds canceled for next year. And my teaching schedule changed. They probably can’t fire me but they can make my life a living hell.”
“I dare them. If they so much as look at you sideways, I’ll have them back in court so fast they’ll pee their pants. They better leave you alone…if they know what’s good for them.”
Celia would never admit it, but she found Theo’s inebriated fury frankly adorable. “The thing is though, if Harwood gets out of this without having to admit they did anything wrong, there goes my whistleblower status.”
“If they do anything—
anything
,” she practically yelled, “I wanna know about it. They’ll be sorry they poked this bear.”
The drunken threats were reassuring if only as proof Theo loved her. Celia was sick to realize Frazier and Caldwell, with their lost multimillion-dollar contracts, were the only ones facing the music over what happened to Hayley. Some of the sportscasters had speculated that if the pair managed to escape conviction, they could play the upcoming season in Europe or China—then declare for next year’s draft as though nothing had happened. A mere footnote for everyone involved.
With her wireless headset and microphone in place, Theo paced her office to stretch her legs. The conference call was well into its second hour. Nine participants representing the nurses’ association at Mercy Hospital Group, a national corporation that controlled over two hundred community hospitals. They’d been impressed by her commentary on TNS, which had been widely cited in newspapers and on websites, and wanted to sue their employer for equal wages.