Preferential Treatment, page 34
“We’re going to be up against the clock,” Fabian said. “That judge is going to hold us to the 1:30 start time whether we’ve finished negotiating or not.”
“Don’t worry about the judge. If we tell her we’re close, she’ll work with us.”
“Really? I thought you told me she hated plaintiffs’ lawyers. Why would she want to help us?”
“Patience, My Friend, patience. It’s a virtue, as you love to always say.”
The next two hours crept by with no word from Pavlik. But at precisely noon, there was a knock on the jury room door. Fabian checked his watch, charged to the door, and jerked it open. Woodall and Pavlik stood before them, both looking totally beaten up. They marched past Fabian, and each took a seat at the table.
“So, Folks, what’s the verdict? Deal or no deal?” said Darnell.
“Limits,” Pavlik said. “That’s all we’ve got. And the CEO isn’t happy.”
“I’m going to go get some lunch,” Fabian said dismissively. He charged toward the door.
“Hold on, Jack,” Darnell said. “I want to join you, but before we go …” Darnell paused and said to Pavlik, “I know you’ve got more. Let’s not beat around the bush. We’re running out of time. We’re serious about the two-eight. Do you really want to try this thing?”
Woodall squirmed nervously in his chair.
“Aren’t you going to make a counter-offer?” asked an incredulous Pavlik. “We may be able to get a little more, but we need some movement on your part.”
Fabian had reached the limits of his patience. “Fuck off,” he spat. “That’s my counter-offer.” He reached the door and opened it. “You coming?” he asked Darnell.
“Yeah, I guess this little exercise is over.”
“Wait!” Pavlik shouted. “We have some time to negotiate this, don’t we?”
“I’m hungry, and it’s gonna’ be a long afternoon,” Fabian snapped.
“We’ve got more money, okay?” Pavlik sighed.
“Two million eight?” Fabian asked.
“Look,” said Pavlik. “I’m going to lay it out. I know we’re going to be up against the clock, and Jeff tells me the judge means it when she says she’s going to start at 1:30. We’ll settle it for two point five million. That’s a half million more than the limits. We can’t do any better than that.”
“My stomach’s growling,” Fabian mocked. “I’m tired of this shit.”
“Mr. Darnell, please let’s try to get this settled,” Pavlik begged. “We’re trying to act in good faith.”
Fabian wheeled around, his eyes hot coals, searing with rage. “It’s a little goddamned late for good faith, isn’t it? We’re not shitting you, Ma’am. Pay up. We know you’ve got the cash, and we’ve got your company by the balls.”
Pavlik knew she was getting nowhere fast and that her company was in an untenable position with virtually no bargaining power. She was resigned to offer the entire amount of the plaintiffs’ demand, but she was too proud not to try to save at least some small measure of face.
“This is my final offer. My CEO wants me to save a few bucks. That’s just between you and me. Cut me a little slack, for Christ’s sake. Let’s put this thing to bed. Two-seven.”
“She must have a hearing problem,” Fabian quipped again heading for the door, “or doesn’t understand the English language.”
Pavlik was enraged but determined to not entirely give in, no matter how little she could chisel off the final amount. How far will this money-grubbing shyster push before he gives in—if ever? she thought.
“All right, goddamnit! Two million seven hundred ninety thousand,” Pavlik spat.
Darnell looked at Fabian. Surely, he’s not going to prolong this thing over ten thousand lousy bucks.
Fabian winked at Darnell. He extended his right hand to an anxious Pavlik, gave her a wry smile, and said warmly, “I’m glad we found middle ground. Isn’t compromise a wonderful thing?”
CHAPTER 29
After the lawyers informed a very pleased Judge Grant of the settlement, the jury was discharged, the terms of the agreement were recited into the record, and the case of Gunther, et al. vs. Montgomery, M.D. had come to an end. Fabian and Darnell, weary from months of hard work but relieved to have concluded the case with the unexpected result, entered Darnell’s reception area and exchanged high fives.
“Christ, Ben. We just made a pile of money—five hundred fifty-eight large each by my calculation,” said a jubilant Fabian.
“Yea, you’re right. Plus, we get our advanced expenses reimbursed. I’ll be able to eat for the next few weeks,” Darnell laughed.
Turning serious, Darnell said, “I’m happy for Joe and Mary. You know when I was working on the dark side and won a case, it was always a thrill, but I never had the feeling I have right now. Back then when I won it meant that an injured person or the family of a dead one got little or nothing. Sometimes it was deserved, but often it was just that the other side got out-lawyered or the jury made a bad call. It was hard to be overjoyed when that happened, but that’s what my job was—win the cases for insurance companies. This feeling is totally different.”
Fabian was in no mood to wax philosophical. “Doesn’t hurt to know you made a pile of money either, does it?”
“Of course not,” Darnell answered. “But … oh, never mind. Let’s go get a drink. I think we’ve earned one.”
“That’s more like it, but don’t expect me to stop at one. You’re buying, too.”
The two headed to Fabian’s newly discovered watering hole, Nell’s Place. A seedy bar was right up his alley and a great place to celebrate.
The two victorious lawyers took a seat at a table in the back of Nell’s, and each ordered their first of many drinks—a triple Balvenie for Fabian and a Manhattan for Darnell. When the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses and toasted their good fortune.
As the alcohol began to have the desired effects, the two lawyers rehashed the last year-and-a-half and reflected on it with pride and mutual admiration. During that time, they agreed, they had forged a lasting friendship and vowed to work together on cases in the future.
After the third round, Fabian insisted on one more. His head was spinning, but he was enjoying himself immensely and was determined to make up for lost drinking time that he endured during the final weeks of trial preparation.
Fabian took a sip of this next drink, looked at Darnell, and rubbed his chin. “Ben,” he slurred, “one thing that doesn’t add up.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Our judge, Judge Grant. I thought you said she was a real ball buster. She really didn’t seem that bad. She seemed to be no nonsense, but not particularly unfair to us. Actually, it seemed like she was giving Woodall more shit than she gave us.”
Darnell smiled but said nothing.
“You know,” Fabian continued, “if she really wanted to screw us, she could have very easily postponed the case or declared a mistrial, and we would have had to start all over. She really did us a favor. I was surprised, actually. The way you described her, I was expecting to have rough sledding in her courtroom. It was just the opposite. Why the change in attitude and MO?” Fabian paused and gave Darnell a puzzled look. “And why are you giving me that shit-eatin’ grin?”
Darnell leaned back in his chair and rocked. “It’s like this, Jack. A long time ago, when I was just a young defense lawyer, single and horny, I was at a bar function and ran into a young lady who I found very attractive. I introduced myself and learned that this beauty worked for my firm’s main competitor in town, Stabler-Grant. We hit it off big time, and soon we were ravaging each other whenever we could sneak away. Of course, we knew that being a couple of young associates at competing firms it would be bad form, and worse for careers, if the partners found out about our shenanigans. Anyway, we kept it up for about six months and finally decided to call it quits before we got caught. Call it a business decision.”
Fabian slapped the table and guffawed. “And don’t tell me, that young associate you were boinking was none other than the Honorable …”
“You figured it out, Sherlock. Brilliant! The Honorable Rowina Grant. Even though the romance was brief, we ended it on good terms, and we’ve always maintained a good rapport. Everything has been on the up-and-up since she went on the bench, but she never really screwed me with an unfair ruling like I’ve seen her do to other lawyers, especially those of your, and now my, ilk.”
“You sly old dog. But you’ve changed hats. If she has such a hard-on for plaintiffs’ lawyers, why do you think she didn’t screw us on the jury selection, her other rulings, and Woodall’s motion to continue when Amanda got sick?”
“There’s another thing I didn’t tell you. During the time we were having our fling, Woodall made several passes at her. He was older than she and, more importantly, very, very married with kids. She kept rejecting his advances, but he was insistent. She thought he was icky. She finally had to tell him to get lost. He backed off, but ever since, even though outwardly she has been cordial toward him, deep down she detests him.”
“So, when she would give us favorable rulings and refused the motion to continue the trial, you weren’t surprised, were you?”
“Not in the least,” a smug Darnell replied.
“Then why did you scare the hell out of me with your horror stories about how she hated plaintiffs’ lawyers?”
“You didn’t expect me to show you all my tricks, did you? What’s more, I figured it would help make you toe the line if I kept you in the dark.”
“Asshole!” Fabian chuckled. “It worked.”
“Compliment accepted.”
Fabian took a long drink. “While we’re talking out of school, maybe I can one-up you.”
Darnell wrinkled his brow, wondering what surprises his sidekick held in store.
“You know our young opposing counsel?” Fabian asked.
“Of course, she worked for me, remember? Has the potential to be one hell of a lawyer. I felt sorry that she got so sick even though it did help settle the case.”
“Well, seems as though the night before the first deposition, I ran into a young, sexy lady in the bar at the hotel where I was staying in Columbus. We had a few drinks—well maybe more than a few—hit it off, and ended up in the sack. The best sex I’d had in a long time. We went at it so hot and heavy we didn’t even ask for each other’s names before she passed out and I stumbled off to my room. The next morning at the deposition, into the conference room walked you’ll never guess who.” Fabian paused for effect.
Darnell blanched. “Oh my God! Not Amanda?”
“One and the same,” Fabian gloated.
“Jesus, Jack, you two didn’t discuss the case or anything, did you? The whole settlement could be voided if someone found out.”
“Relax. When we realized what happened, we knew we hadn’t talked about the case that night and that any future discussion about the facts or strategy would be off limits. We didn’t have anything to do with each other socially after that. It was strictly business. Just a one night stand. No harm, no foul, we figured.”
Darnell looked relieved. “I guess so, but I still hope no one finds out.”
“The secret’s safe, Ben. No worries.”
“Speaking of Amanda, didn’t you think it was a little weird that she got sick at such an opportune time and just disappeared?” asked Darnell.
“Yeah, especially since she had worked so hard.”
Darnell laughed and shook his head. “I bet the two of you almost shit when you realized what had happened the next morning.”
“She was aghast. I thought it was pretty funny. Anyway, she’s a lovely girl. I hope she doesn’t get into too much trouble at her firm for getting sick and throwing Woodall to the wolves.”
“Oh, you can rest assured Woodall will try to shove the blame off on her. I’d be surprised if he doesn’t try to fire her,” Darnell speculated.
“The guy’s a prick. Wouldn’t surprise me either,” said Fabian.
Darnell checked his watch. “Wow, it’s 4:45, I’m drunk as a skunk, and I need to go home,” he slurred. “My wife’s been worried to death about this case. She was sure that I was going to bankrupt us. I need to let her know we won.”
“Oh, Ye of little faith,” Fabian joked. “Anyway, I’m about ready to go get a big, juicy steak. I’m plastered and famished. By the way, I’m going to celebrate this little victory by treating myself to a week or two or three in St. Martin. Want to join me? The villa I rent has three bedrooms.”
“Thanks, but I’ll take a rain check. I may take a day or two off, but I’ve got other cases that have been suffering from terminal neglect. I’d better go before they have to carry me out of here. See you soon.”
CHAPTER 30
After three days of lying drunk at his villa in St. Martin, gorging himself on spiny lobster and fresh local fish, and lounging by his pool, Fabian felt a need to stretch his legs and get a little exercise. He jumped in his rental car and took the short drive to Orient Bay. When he opened his door the wonderful smell of salt air blowing off the bay brought a broad smile to his face. He kicked off his shoes, took off his shirt, and began his long-deserved walk on Orient Beach. His intended destination was the part of the beach where sun-worshipers shamelessly bared all. He loved the freedom he felt when he shed his trunks and joined those who never met a tan line.
Fabian reached the rocks that was the demarcation line between the stretch of beach where clothing changed from “required” to that of “optional.” After negotiating the rocks, Fabian clumsily pulled his trunks down over his buttocks and legs and gingerly stepped out of them. He wadded them in a ball and began to walk in search of a recliner where he could have a drink, soak up some rays, and relax the rest of the day.
He strolled along the beach admiring some of the shapely young women who were similarly and unashamedly unadorned. Also, as was expected, were the other usual suspects: the young gay and straight couples, the old, the fit, and the morbidly obese—folks of all shapes, sizes, and those across the spectrum of age. Nobody cared. All were there for one reason—to enjoy the sun.
After having little luck finding an empty beach chair, Fabian finally spied one several dozen yards down the beach. As he made his way toward his landing area, he was startled by a woman’s voice that seemed to be directed his way.
“Hey, Sailor. Care to help me get some lotion on my back. It’s hard to reach,” the voice said.
Fabian scanned the area for the source of the strangely familiar voice. “Over here,” the voice sang.
Fabian’s eyes finally locked onto his target. He fell into an immediate state of shock. “What the hell are you doing here?” a flabbergasted Fabian exclaimed.
“Just wanted to get a tan…and maybe find someone to buy me a drink,” Amanda Cohen said.
Fabian walked over to Amanda and put his hand on her bare shoulder. She was completely naked. “How did you find me?”
“How do you know I was looking for you? Pretty presumptuous, don’t you think?”
“Whatever you say,” Fabian said. He leaned over and kissed her deeply. “How’s that for presumptuous?”
“Just what the doctor ordered,” Amanda cooed.
Fabian sat on the edge of Cohen’s beach lounger and grabbed her sun tan lotion. He squeezed some into his hand and began to apply it to Amanda’s bare body. She felt warm and soft, just as he remembered and had thought about since their first and only encounter over a year ago.
“Speaking of the doctor, I’m sorry you got so sick at the trial. I know you worked hard getting ready, but I do have to say it got the case resolved. You should have seen Woodall groveling in front of the judge when he asked for a continuance. It was more priceless when she denied his motion and told him he had to proceed without you. It was a real hoot.”
Amanda gave Fabian a sheepish grin. Fabian immediately got the hint.
“You didn’t…you surely didn’t fake that illness, did you?”
“Me to know and you to find out,” she teased. “I have to say I wish I had witnessed the show. I would have loved to have seen that son-of-a-bitch squirm.”
“It was quite a spectacle.”
Fabian ordered pina coladas from a beachside waiter. The two sipped their drinks and reminisced about the case and their embarrassing but wonderful encounter in Columbus. After a second drink, they retired to Fabian’s villa. For the next three weeks, they played.
EPILOGUE
After the conclusion of the Gunther trial, the embarrassing result suffered by Darnell-Smyth had not gone down well with APIC. All of the insurance company’s medical malpractice cases were unceremoniously lifted from the firm and transferred to its rival and main competitor, Stabler-Grant. The loss was devastating to the firm’s bottom line and the reputation of its litigation section.
After a thorough investigation, blame was placed squarely on the shoulders of the litigation section’s chairman, Jeffrey Woodall. Shortly thereafter, he was stripped of his chairmanship and assigned to the firm’s real estate department where he was relegated to the county clerk’s record room doing title examinations. He lasted only one month in his new post and resigned from the firm in disgrace. After trying his hand at plaintiffs’ injury work, at which he was a miserable failure, he retired from the practice and continued to concentrate on his golf game.
Not long after the trial, APIC sued Darnell-Smyth for legal malpractice. Two years later, the firm settled the case for $3 Million.
During the week following the conclusion of the case, APIC demoted Susan Pavlik to basic field adjuster and stripped her of all authority to settle cases. Frustrated with the demotion, she quit her job at APIC and moved to northern Mississippi where she began adjusting fender-bender cases in Tupelo for Mississippi General Accident Company.
