Advice of Counsel (The Samuel Collins Series Book 1) (25 page)

I couldn’t have put it better myself
.  She was so
dead-on accurate that I was determined to prove her wrong.  “Saturday.  Let’s
do it Saturday,” I said.  “No wait .  . . I’m taking Oliver somewhere on
Saturday.  We’ll do it Sunday.”

Landra laughed.   “I’m so tired.  Can we go to bed?”

“Are you free Sunday?”

“As far as I know,” she said.

“Good.  On Sunday, you meet the family.”

I woke up in a bad mood the next morning.  Well, actually I
woke up in a good mood but I got in a bad mood when I had to leave the soft
arms of my girlfriend.  I was sick of Dick; I was sick of Larry; and I knew
that in no time, I’d be sick of the CEO.  Landra had beat me to the coffee pot
which meant that the coffee was way too weak, so I stopped at Starbuck’s on the
way to work and got a grande cappuccino and a slice of lemon pound cake.  The
cake didn’t compare with Mrs. Howard’s hot fresh muffins, but at least it
calmed the growling beast and I’d be able to conduct the deposition without
embarrassing sounds from within.

I’d put a lot of thought into the CEO’s deposition and which
questions I’d pose to him; even more importantly, the order in which I would
ask them.  But it came to me with such certain clarity that morning that I
wondered why it had taken me so long to decide the inevitable.  The case needed
to settle without going to trial.

It was all Maddie’s fault that I wouldn’t be able to try the thing. 
If my client had been anyone else I wouldn’t have even considered settling. 
The trial would be a riot.  Once the press got wind of it, the story would be
plastered all over the papers, on the television and on the radio.  The case
had all the elements that the public wanted in a scandal:  sex, a pretty
blonde, a sleazy corporate executive, a huge corporation; throw in a dead
husband and a new baby and it would make one hell of a story.

But I couldn’t do it.  In this instance, I had to think of my client’s
best interest, and for Maddie, that meant settling out of court.  She’d proven
by her performance in her deposition that she could hold up on the stand, but I
knew that Larry wouldn’t sit back and do nothing.  He obviously had no qualms
about lying and I knew he would stoop low to paint Maddie as a horrible person,
probably even a bad mother.  I couldn’t do that to Maddie and I couldn’t do it
to Oliver either.  As much as I hated to do it, I’d have to settle the thing,
and I decided the sooner the better.

The CEO was sworn in.  I asked his name, address and phone
number; his position with Datacare and how long he’d worked there; where he
worked prior to coming to Datacare and his position at that company, and I
jotted his answers down quickly on my legal pad.  He was cooperative enough,
but just.  I could feel his disdain for lawyers in general and for me in
particular, and I was glad, because it would make the glory that much sweeter.

I started flipping through my notes like I was looking for
something and I could feel him getting more and more impatient.  I took my time
and when I finally looked up, I just stared at him for second.

“Where is your office in proximity to the ladies’ restroom?” I
asked.

The CEO’s face went ashen white and Dick actually groaned
audibly.  The two looked at each other and Dick cleared his throat.

“I’d like to consult with my client off the record briefly,”
Dick said in a voice that was an octave higher than it should have been.

I fully expected another emergency to crop up.  It was almost
30 minutes later when Dick finally came back in and the CEO wasn’t with him. 
Dick asked me to step out into the hall so the court reporter couldn’t listen
to whatever bowl of crap he was about to feed me.  I consulted my watch
conspicuously when I got out into the hall, just in case he hadn’t caught the
irritation on my face when he finally resurfaced.

“In the interest of saving time and going to the expense of
deposing everyone else we would need to call in this case, my clients would
like to broach settlement.”

I couldn’t believe he could say it with a straight face.  Part
of me wanted to tell him how full of shit he was, but I decided that might be
counterproductive.

“I’ll tell you right now that Madeline Griffin is not
interested in settling,” I said.  “She wants vengeance, Dick.  She wants
Larry’s balls in a sling; ditto for the CEO.  You know how women are.  They
like their privacy when they’re pumping their breasts and using the bathroom. 
I don’t know . . . it’s a girl thing.  Anyway, Ms. Griffin wants the world to
know what Datacare did to her.  And if the other women that use that ladies’
room find out just where the CEOs office is in proximity to it . . .” I let the
sentence hang while Dick mopped his forehead with a neatly folded tissue. 
“Well let’s just say that she might even have a class action suit before it’s
over with.”

I continued before Old Dick could say anything.  “Now, if your
clients bring an offer to the table, obviously I’m legally obligated to present
it to Ms. Griffin.  But I can pretty much guarantee you right now what her
answer will be.

“I’ll have an offer to you by the end of the week.”

*    *    *    *

Datacare’s settlement offer came in the mail the very next
day.  I’d been on the phone almost all morning and as soon as I hung up, Maddie
was knocking on my office door.

“Come in,” I called out.  I was already dialing a client’s
number but I hung up when I saw the look on Maddie’s face.  “What’s wrong?”

“It’s a letter from Richard Stollins.”

“Well, open it!” I told her.

“I can’t.  You do it,” she said, passing the thing off to me.

I was about to roll my eyes but I remembered the stink I’d made
to Landra about doing that, and I didn’t want to be accused of being a
hypocrite.  Instead, I snatched the letter away from her in a manner that I
hoped showed my exasperation.  I read the thing over and threw it down on the
desk for her to see.

“One hundred thousand.”

“One hundred thousand dollars?” Maddie said in disbelief.  She
picked up the letter and read it.  “Is that good?  Is that what you expected?”

“Is it a good offer?  Hell no.  But it’s a good starting
point.  They could have come in at $10,000 or $15,000.  It tells me that
Datacare knows they screwed up royally.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked nervously.  She was
chewing her cuticle again, and I reached over and physically moved her hand
away from her mouth.

“Stop doing that,” I told her.

“You stop it!” she said, slapping my hand.

I looked at her but decided against a confrontation.  I’d
already been in a foul mood when she’d come in with the letter and although it
was nice to have someone to take it out on, Maddie wasn’t the right person. 
She was my client.  I wished Penny had been there.

“Why don’t you sit down,” I said, motioning to a chair in front
of my desk.  I sat down and picked up the letter and read it again.  “What do
you want out of this lawsuit?”

The question seemed to take her by surprise.  “Whale . . . I
guess the main thing is that I want Larry and the CEO to pay.  The money is
really secondary to me.  Although it would be nice not to have to work for a
while so I could be a full-time mom until the boys get into school.”

“Fair enough.  Anything else?”

“I can’t think of anything.”

“Okay.  Here’s what I propose we do . . . We come back with a
counter offer of $10 million.”  I was about to enumerate our other conditions,
but Maddie interrupted.

“Ten million dollars!  Samuel, are you crazy?” she exclaimed.

“Am I crazy?” I repeated.  “Maddie, Datacare is a billion
dollar corporation,” I explained.  “Two of their agents, or I should say at
least two, have engaged in grossly aberrant behavior towards subordinate
employees.  If we go to trial, Datacare could very well be looking at a multi-million
dollar jury award.  People don’t like to see big corporations screw
hard-working rank-and-file employees.  And they like to punish, and punish
severely, corporations that do.”

“Ten million dollars?” Maddie repeated.

“At least.  May I continue?”

She swallowed hard and sat back in her chair.  “Okay.”

“We would insist that both Larry and the CEO be summarily
discharged with no severance pay.  They would be terminated for cause, and
would not be offered the chance to resign in lieu of termination.”

“Okay.”

“I think Datacare should make a $500,000 donation to the Women’s
Shelter,” I said, and Maddie looked at me quizzically.  “For their exploitation
of females,” I explained.

Maddie smiled.  “Sometimes I just love you,” she said, and I
could see the lip start to quiver.

“Don’t do it!” I said, pointing my pen at her.  She took a deep
breath and held it back.  “What do you think?  Anything else?” I asked.

She shook her head no.  I think she was still stunned by the
$10 million figure, which I wasn’t convinced was even enough to start out
with.  We’d obviously be working down from that figure, so I was contemplating
starting even higher.

“Okay.  I’ll dictate our counter offer as soon as you get out
of here and leave me alone.”

Maddie stood up and looked at me like she was thinking.  After
a second, she started out, “Samuel . . . I don’t even know how to begin to
thank you,” but I cut her off before she could continue.

“Maddie,” I said.  “I’m your lawyer.  I’m not doing anything
more than any other lawyer would do for you.  And I haven’t gotten you a dime
yet.  So don’t thank me until I actually do something for you.”

“I can’t believe you believe that, but if you do, you are so
wrong.  You’ve done more for me than anyone I’ve ever known.  And even if I
never see a dime out of this whole thing, I’ll never be able to thank you enough. 
I can never repay you.”

“Hey, believe me . . . 40% of a million bucks would be more
than enough to repay me.”

Maddie smiled and I couldn’t help smile back.  She looked
especially pretty that day, and as much as I liked to refer to her as my
client, that was actually the last way I thought of her.  She was definitely my
friend first, and a very good friend, at that.

“Now will you get out of here so I can get some work done!” I
said.  I didn’t need her getting sentimental on me.

“I’m leaving,” she said, but she turned back around as she
walked towards the door and busted me watching her.  “What?” she said
defensively, when I didn’t avert my eyes.

“What what?” I said.

“Never mind.  I swear Samuel, sometimes I worry about you.”

“Are you going to leave, or am I going to have to physically
escort you out of my office?  I know what it is. You want to be close to me.”

This time Maddie rolled her eyes.  And she did it so good that
it looked like she’d learned it from Niki, himself.  “You’re a sick man,
Samuel.”  And with that, she closed the door behind her.  I sat there in my
chair smiling for the next couple of minutes thinking about her, trying to sort
out my feelings for her.  There were so many facets to our relationship that
sometimes they all blurred together.  One thing was for sure.  I had
underestimated Maddie in almost every respect:  as a mother, as a client, as a
secretary, and as a woman.  And I wasn’t altogether thrilled with the feelings
that surfaced every now and then over her.  And while I didn’t consciously
indulge any feelings I had towards Maddie, I still felt like I was betraying
Landra when they cropped up.

In the end, I shook off the thought and got back to business. 
I dictated our counter proposal, but I upped the settlement figure to $14
million.  We could always go down, but we couldn’t go up.  If we ended up with
a half-million, I’d be ecstatic.

Oliver came over bright and early Saturday morning.  He was
wearing a backpack that was nearly as big as he was and it looked like he had
enough gear to last us a week.

“Whoa, how long are we going for?” I asked him.

He looked at me like I was dumb.  “It’s just for today.”

“Well, what’s all that stuff you’ve got there?”

He seized the opportunity to empty the entire contents onto my
kitchen floor, then he held up each item, calling out its name as if it weren’t
self-explanatory.

“Canteen.  It’s got water in it.  Bug spray.  Lunch.  Mom made
us fried chicken.”

“Awesome.”

He held up a brown bag.  “Snacks.”

“Like what?”

Oliver opened the bag and looked in, then he dumped it on the
floor.  “Raisins, granola bars, apples, bananas, cheerios.  There’s only one
orange so we have to share it.”  He put the snacks back in the bag and
continued, “There’s milk in this thermos.”

“I don’t think we’re going to have time to do anything but
eat,” I said.

“This is a picnic blanket; and this is a thing with a whole
bunch of tools on it.  Mom didn’t know if you had one.”  He handed me the
Leatherman, then made me pull out every tool on the thing.

“Cool.”

“Do you have one?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Toilet paper.”  He held up the roll.

“Good.”

“And extra clothes, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” I asked.

Oliver shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know.  That’s just
what Mom said.”

“Okay.  Well it looks like you’re all set.”

We loaded his backpack and my stuff into the Suburban.  I still
had Oliver’s seat in there from that first week I’d moved in.  It had been such
a hassle to get the thing in I hadn’t even attempted to get it out.  Oliver
strapped himself in and we took off.

The drive out was a lot like the drive to Guadalupe State
Park.  Oliver talked incessantly the whole way.  I thought I could tune him
out, but it was impossible because he kept asking questions that required more
than an
uh huh
answer.  He was doing the
what if
thing again, and
I was trying not to let it irritate me.

“What if we go the wrong way and can’t find the place?” he
asked.

“We’re not gonna go the wrong way.  I know where it is,” I
assured him.

“But what if we do?”

“Then we’ll turn around and go the right way.”

“What if my horse won’t go when I tell it to?”

“If you give it a good kick it will.  Besides, I think that we
both ride the same horse.  I don’t think you’ll be riding by yourself.”

“What if they make me ride by myself?” he asked.

“Do you want to ride by yourself?” I asked.

“No.  I want to ride with you.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“What if they don’t let me?”

“Are you doing this to me on purpose?” I asked.

“Doing what?”

“Your
what if
thing.  You keep thinking up all kinds of
things that could go wrong.  Everything’s going to be great, Oliver.  Quit
worrying about it.”

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Already?  Didn’t you go before we left?”

“Yes, but I have to go again.  It’s an emergency.”

I could just envision having to reupholster the back seat of my
Suburban. “You need to hold it for a few minutes.  I can’t pull over right
here.  I’ll stop at the next place we come to.”

“I have to go really bad.”

“What number?”  I was afraid to hear the answer.

“What number what?”

“You know – Number 1 or Number 2?”  I realized by the blank
look on his face that he had no idea what I was talking about.  “Number 1 means
you have to pee.  Number 2 means you have to poop,” I explained.

His whole face lit up with the knowledge I’d just imparted.  “I
have to do Number 1.”  I was immensely relieved until he added, “And Number 2.”

I groaned.  What was it with Maddie’s kids and me and Number
2?  “Can you hold it for a minute?”

“Yeah.  I can hold Number 2, but I have to go Number 1 really
bad.”

I came to the top of a hill and spotted a Valero.  “We’re
pulling over right now.  You’ve got to hold it,” I said, and the
just in
case
clothes flashed through my mind.
So that’s what she meant
.  I
drove as fast as I dared and pulled into a parking space, slamming to a stop.

Apparently my definition of emergency was different from
Oliver’s, because as soon as we pulled over, all urgency seemed to vanish.  He
dawdled getting out of his seat, he dawdled getting out of the car, and he
dawdled on the way into the store.  I was practically dragging him by the arm
so we wouldn’t need to resort to the just in case clothes, and he looked at me
like, ‘
What’s the rush
?’  Now that I understood the significance of the
coded
just in case
message, I could only imagine what other situations
might arise later in the trip where the clothes might come into play. At that
point, I likened the clothes to a trump card and I didn’t want to have to use
them so early in the game.

“Look!  They have candy,” Oliver said, stopping to check it
out.

“I thought you said it was an emergency,” I said irritated. 
“Do you even have to go?”

He nodded.  “Number 1 and Number 2.”

“Well, let’s get it over with.”

It was a good 20 minutes before we were back on the road.  It
was like the kid had no place to be; no timetable whatsoever.  I stood outside
the stall, “Are you finished?”

“No.”

Five minutes later.  “You about done?”

“No.”

Another five minutes.  “Now?”

“No.”

It finally struck me that men’s toilet habits start as young as
four years old.  The kid was in no rush, period.  If I’d given him a magazine,
he would have been content to look at it from cover to cover. Once we were back
in the car, I banned him from drinking anything else until we got to the
ranch.  We pulled in and parked beside the other cars.

“You want to ride on my shoulders?” I asked.

“Yeah!” he said enthusiastically, then he giggled the whole
time while he pulled my ears, honked my nose, and gave me a wet willie in each
ear.

The place was cool. There was a big house with a huge patio
that looked over the creek; a pavilion; a playground with a giant fort and
slides, swings, seesaws and all kinds of things to climb on.  Much of the small
brush had been cleared away, but there were enormous pecan trees and oak trees
that would shade the whole area in the summer.  There was a grassy field for
the kids to play in and a whole slew of footballs, soccer balls, softballs and
gloves.  I took Oliver off my shoulders and set him down and a couple of kids
came up and said hi.  There were nine boys in all and Oliver was by far the
best looking kid there.

“Want to throw the football?” Oliver asked excitedly.

“Sure, but don’t you want to play with your friends?” I asked.

“I want to play with you,” he said, and he took my hand and led
me towards the field.  We threw the football for a while, then we switched to
soccer, then we tossed the softball back and forth, and we finally went back to
throwing the football. 

All the other dads were visiting with each other while their
kids played with the other kids, and for some reason, one by one, the kids
gravitated to where Oliver and I were playing.  They had formed a big circle
with me in the middle and they were trying to play keep-away from me, but most
of them had such a lousy arm that we turned it into a game of dodge ball
instead.  I was saved when the ranch foreman called us over to go on a
hayride.  We all piled onto the wagon and Oliver decided that the hay was too
scratchy so he sat on my lap the whole time.  Once again, the majority of the
dads weren’t even paying attention to their kids and I had to wonder what they
thought the purpose of the field trip was.  After the hayride we all went out
on the porch and ate lunch.

“Remind me to thank your mom for this chicken,” I told Oliver. 
“It’s awesome.”

“She makes the best.”

“She does,” I agreed.

We finished lunch and I took Oliver over to the railing looking
over the creek.  “Hey,” I said to get his attention.  He focused those big blue
eyes on me.  “I hear they’re going to have a three-legged sack race.  Have you
ever done one before?” I asked him.

He shook his head no.

“Okay.  Here’s how you do it,” I told him, then I gave him some
pointers that my dad had given me when I was about Oliver’s age.  He listened
intently and when I finished we high-fived.  “We’re gonna win . . . you and
me,” I told him, and taking into account the non-interaction between the other
dads and their sons, there was no doubt in my mind that we would.

I was getting ready to say something else when I was distracted
by a group of beautiful girls that had come out onto the porch.  Their hair was
all done up and I assumed they were there for a wedding.

“What are they doing here?” Oliver asked.

Every single one of them was gorgeous.  “Maybe someone’s
getting married.  They look fine, don’t they?” I said, gawking.

“I guess,” he said, unconvinced.

“Trust me.  They do,” I assured him.

“It’s time for the sack races,” someone called out.

“Sack races!” Oliver said.

“You remember what I told you?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna win!”

“Not that part.  Do you remember what I told you about how to
do it?”

“Yeah.  Will you carry me?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing,” I said.

“Nuh uh,” Oliver laughed.  I picked him up and carried him back
to the field where we’d played ball.  There were 10 lanes chalked off so we
grabbed a sack and took the closest lane and got in position.  We looked like a
couple of professionals compared to the other teams.

“How do we do this?” one dad was saying.

“I don’t want to play,” one kid whined.

What a pathetic bunch.

“Are you ready?” I asked Oliver.  His grin gave me his answer. 
The kid was absolutely beaming.  It took another five minutes before all the
teams were ready.  One had dropped out completely.  Finally, the foreman blew
the whistle and we were off.

The lanes were long and we had to go up and back so it was
going to be a long race for such little kids.  It was clear from the start that
most of the teams were definitely not going to be contenders.  Hell, some of
them barely got off the starting line before falling down.  Oliver and I took
off, counting one-two-one-two, as we’d talked about.  Our timing was perfectly
coordinated, just like when my dad and I had raced together.  In fact, Oliver
and I were so far ahead of the others that I considered slowing down to let
them catch up, but then I thought, screw that.  By the time we got to the end
of the lane to turn around, the closest father/son team was only halfway down
the lane.  We passed them on the way back and Oliver waved happily to his
friend.

The two of us had started laughing and it was making it
difficult to count, plus we were both winded and laughing didn’t help.

I looked down at Oliver and the look on his face at that moment
was one of such contentment that I knew I’d never forget it.  And I decided
right then that I needed to take a fatherly role in the kid’s life.  Boys need
a male influence in their life and Oliver was no exception.  It was only
logical that I should take on part of the responsibility because, unlike
someone who Maddie may date, I wasn’t going to come and go from his life.  I
was his neighbor.  I wasn’t going anywhere.  Oliver was too cool a kid to miss
out on the guy stuff that boys do with their dads.

“Ouch.  You stepped on my foot!” Oliver laughed.

“Sorry,” I said, breathing heavily.

As we neared the finish line, I looked back over my shoulder to
scope out the competition, but the closest team had just started the lap back. 
We crossed the finish line with both of us yelling wildly.  I scooped up Oliver
then I dropped and rolled with him in my arms as we laughed and yelled, “We
won!”  We weren’t exactly politically correct, but who cares?

Even after our celebration, we had time to sit up and cheer for
our dismally slow competition.  “Come on!  You can do it!” we yelled.

Finally the other dads and sons were actually interacting,
stumbling and laughing and having a great time.  After what seemed like an
eternity, the last team crossed the finish line and it was almost like we were
with a whole different group of people.  The mood of the place was completely
changed and from then on, up to the time we left, it was definitely a
father/son thing.  I got the feeling that for some of them, it was the first
time they had actually bonded with each other.

“Anyone want to ride a horse?” the foreman asked.

Cheers went up in all directions from the kids.  Oliver pulled
on my pants leg.  “Tell them we want to ride together.”

“Oliver and I are riding together,” I told the foreman when we
got to the front.

They brought out a beautiful bay and I swung my leg over and climbed
into the saddle and the foreman handed Oliver up to me.  A couple of the boys
were riding by themselves but most were riding with their dads.  When everyone
had mounted-up the foreman got on his own horse and took the lead for the trail
ride.  We ambled along beside the creek, then up into the hills and back down
the other side, crossing the creek twice, then stopping by the water for a
snack.

The kids were playing together throwing rocks into the creek,
so I decided I might as well be sociable and meet some of the dads.  They were
actually a nice group, even though I was an outsider, and a few of us even had
some common friends.

It was already close to 5:00 o’clock by the time the trail ride
was over and I was exhausted.  I hadn’t had such a busy day since I was a kid. 
And if I was that tired, I could only imagine how tired Oliver must have been.
We hadn’t stopped all day.  But when we got back to the stable, the kids got a
spurt of energy from somewhere and they all took off for the playground.  I was
more than ready to get back home, but Oliver was having such a good time I
didn’t have the heart to drag him away.  And no way was I going to be the first
to leave.