Chapter 3
Murphy’s Law of Relationships # 6
“To err is human. To blame it on someone else
is even more human.”
The intercom screeched, “Crenshaw, get in here!”
The entire floor of cubicles fell silent, heads turned her way. Toni pursed her lips, annoyed she had left her office door open, and flipped the intercom button. “I’ll be there in a sec, Rich.”
That didn’t sound good. Biting her lip while reviewing the possible reasons for her boss’s call, Toni collected the contracts she’d been working on and stuck them back in their folders. Closing out the file on the computer, she scanned her schedule for the rest of the morning. She got up from her desk, checking herself in the full-length mirrors. A matching set of mirrors adorned the wall on each side of her door. When she’d finally been promoted to the 37 th floor, the mirrors had come with her new office, and she remained glad of it.
She smiled at her reflection, satisfied. The cobalt blue jacket and pencil skirt combo, a favorite of hers, effectively set off her shoulder-length mahogany-colored hair and dark brown eyes. Good. Professional, smart, and stylish, yet noticeably feminine without any overt sexuality. Her corporate trademark.
Picking up her latte and a notepad off the desk, she headed down the hall toward the office of the director. The Legal Department was spacious, taking up the entire 37 th floor. Toni appreciated the subdued, business-like tone it set with tasteful earth colors, numerous potted plants, and paintings. Even the processed air came subtly scented lavender in keeping with the corporate image.
The Director’s door was open, so she knocked and walked in, smiling at the man behind the desk. “What’s up, Boss?”
Although heavy-set, Richard Yates always dressed for success. He had Toni’s respect as a competent administrator who didn’t let egos rule but kept a tight rein on production. He left her to do her job because she got results, so they got along well.
He frowned at her. “Close the door.”
Uh-oh. Definitely not good.
Rich indicated a chair beside his desk and waited for her to sit down, then leaned toward her, his red power tie skimming the desktop. “What did you say to Dr. Starling?” The anxiety in his voice was something she’d never heard from the man.
“Like what? When?” She couldn’t believe that Starling had complained about their one and only conversation in the lobby over a week ago.
Rich frowned at her, waiting.
“What do you mean?” She must have looked as mystified as she felt because Rich scowled harder.
“I mean ‘What did you say?’ He’s asking for a year’s sabbatical.” He rocked back in his chair and did a nervous snare drum routine with a pencil on his knee. “He claims you’re the one who gave him the idea.”
“Me? I’ve hardly spoken to the man.” Toni took a sip of the latte and then said, “I never suggested anything of the sort.” Had her teasing bothered him that much? “Does Rayaneta even allow sabbaticals?” Was this Starling’s effort at payback for teasing him last week?
“No, but that doesn’t seem to matter in this case.” Rich ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Starling sent a letter to the Board of Directors yesterday requesting a year’s leave of absence.” He frowned hard. “A general alarm has been sounded and the board is blaming you.”
Toni froze, then felt her jaw muscles clench as she squinted at Rich. “Me? That’s nonsense and you know—”
“We’ve got to handle Starling quickly,” he interjected, giving her a censorious look and then pointing a finger at her. “You’re lead on this.”
Toni eyed him belligerently for a moment and then slowly finished the last of her latte, attempting to calm herself. To test her success, she tossed the Styrofoam cup in the wastebasket at the far end of the room. All net. She’d played basketball for Stanford, and this felt like the middle of a losing game.
Turning to her boss, she said in a controlled voice, “Rich, I’ve got the Hampton merger drafts due in less than a week and two deadlines with the Karting contracts. I can’t just drop them. And that’s not counting the Aspen Breeze patent-infringement suit going to court in two weeks. Peters, Lentz, and DeAlba are as slammed as I am. What am I supposed to do with them?”
“Give them to Childers and Gomez.”
“Childers? That man couldn’t find his briefs with a map, and Gomez is still a rookie.” Toni had trouble keeping her responses professional. “This is nuts,” she said calmly amid her irritation. The Brooklyn in her wanted to be blunt.
Rich’s scowl never wavered. “This is more important.”
Toni sat up in surprise. “Why? I know Starling is a good lab tech. But as important as the merger?”
“Yes, as important. The Hampton Board of Directors has already gotten wind of Starling’s request and is demanding a clause be included in the merger agreement ensuring that Starling stays with Rayaneta, or no deal .” Rich tossed his pen down. “We’re talking millions in potential losses just in stocks.”
“When was this?” She threw her hands in the air. “Don’t you think I should’ve been read in, you know, told about this?” In fine Brooklyn fashion, Toni repeatedly jabbed a finger hard on his desktop for emphasis. “I’m only one of the principal lawyers writing the friggin’ merger contracts.”
Rich waved away her accusation and glanced at his phone. “I heard just now.”
“Why in the . . .?” Rich frowned at her in warning, so Toni finished with a tight smile. “. . . wide world of sports, would Hampton demand that?” Rich had never been comfortable with her New York profanities, not from a professional in his office, not from a woman. On the other hand, he was upset enough to start swearing himself.
He flipped his hand in the air and said, “Well, hell. Starling has only created seventeen of the last twenty new perfumes, colognes, and cosmetics this company has put on the damn market, and they’ve all been winners. That’s better than three a year for five years. No one company in the industry has that success rate, let alone from one creator . Hampton knows that.”
Toni sat back for a moment, stunned before exploding out of her chair. “What the fuck, Rich?” She collected herself and planted her hands on her hips. In a steely voice, she said, “ So, why didn’t I know? Everyone assured me—YOU assured me—that he wasn’t anything special when I worked on his last contract.” Flipping a hand into the air, she said, “If he’s so damned important, why did you have me, ME get him to agree to a standard contract?”
She tapped her foot on the carpet as she tried to calm herself. Rich looked frozen in his chair after her dramatics. She hadn’t meant to intimidate him—but she wasn’t sorry. She tossed her notepad on the chair and paced the length of the large office. She stopped by the huge picture window at the far end of the room and crossed her arms. Looking northwest, the serrated Seattle skyline of multi-storied buildings and the huge Ferris wheel on the pier didn’t attract her attention. Instead, she watched a small fishing boat struggle through the choppy gray waters of Elliott Bay, alone, dwarfed by the sea and slate skies.
Rich remained quiet for a moment and then spoke to her back. “Uh, yes. Well, that’s because no one wanted to make too big a deal about it.”
Toni pursed her mouth, aware that her whole body began knotting muscle by muscle. “You mean those bastards on the board didn’t want Starling to know how critical he was to the corporation’s success—afraid their little around-the-clock money machine would wake up and smell the profits he generated?”
She shot an angry glance over her shoulder at her boss. Rich’s face twitched. “So, you all lied to me, insisting on a routine contract renewal. That way he got zilch. And I’d be the one hung out to dry if Starling found out?”
The uncomfortable silence said it all. Indignation dripping from her words, she said, “At times, I’ve suspected how the board really operates.” She ran her fingers through her hair, disgusted with herself. “I saw his name on all those patents. I should have paid attention. I didn’t think he alone could . . .” She glared at the cityscape and said, “The board and the CEO seems to be quite happy to use people. But you, Rich? You ?”
To the sound of shuffling papers, Rich cleared his throat behind her. “I wasn’t given a choice, Toni. I thought it wasn’t going to be all that important.”
Famous last words. “So, the reason you wanted me to do his contract, the reason you all lied to me was . . .?”
“Uh, you have a solid reputation among staff, and the board felt certain you’d refuse to cooperate if—”
“So they used the reputation I’ve worked hard to establish to cheat Starling—”
“Toni, it’s not like that.”
“ Bullshit .” Always disappointed when she trusted men, Toni swore some more. Professionally and personally, they constantly ladled out crap, trying to exploit her for their own desires, then blamed her for their screwups. She tamped down the acrid resentment that grew more blistering with every lie, every betrayal.
When she didn’t say anything more, Rich sighed loudly. “Well, the important thing now is to make sure Starling is contractually tied to the company. His current contract will be up in less than a year— before the end of this sabbatical he wants.”
Toni glanced at Rich, who offered a weak smile as a silent apology. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and then slapped a palm on her thigh. “When do we have to show Hampton something with Starling’s name on it?”
“Two days.”
Toni whirled around, fists clenched. “ Damn it, Rich!”
He shot out of his chair, hands out in supplication. “I know, I know. But we’ve got to move quickly. I’ve set up a meeting with Starling for this afternoon—just you and him.”
Glaring at her boss, she said through tight lips, “I am not jerking this guy around again, Rich. I’m through killing myself so our prima donna of a CEO can report another profitable quarter, a successful merger, and then watch him get a fuckin’ big bonus from the board for their deceit and my efforts.” Toni crossed her arms and felt her whole face stretch tight with her grimace. “I’m done with that. I want things in return, starting with a substantial raise.” Rich nodded as if her counter-demands were expected.
She threw up her hands. “If they’d treated him as important in the first place—if, as their lawyer, they’d let me know what the hell was going on,” she said with a chop of her hand, “the idiots wouldn’t be in this mess.” She made a disgusted sound. “I’m surprised that a headhunter hasn’t snagged him already. The Board made it stupidly easy for anyone to offer a better deal.”
Rich approached her, looking forlorn. “Um, yeah, except he’s been, uh, loyal. He always turned them down.”
So Starling had never tried to get more money with other offers? Weird . “You mean the boy genius has been absurdly oblivious.”
Rich cleared his throat again. “I guess that reassured everyone upstairs.”
“I’ll bet.” Toni took a deep breath and then walked over to the chair by Rich’s desk and sat down, resolved to face her doom. “And it’s sooo much easier to blame me for their monumental fuckup.” When he cringed at her swearing, she just glared at him.
Shit . She wasn’t sure she saw a way to resolve this crisis to the Board’s satisfaction, at least without turning down Starling’s request, which would only provoke his apparent discontent. This could be such a dead cat bounce. She’d be held responsible, no matter what the resolution. It would derail the fast track she’d been carefully constructing for herself. She’d sacrificed too damn much, worked too hard to let that happen. She’d picked Rayaneta specifically because their lead counsel, Stan Ackerman, was close to retirement.
Regardless, she refused to be played again. She placed the notepad on her knee. When Rich sat down, Toni said, “So, what exactly does the crap-for-brains board need from Starling?” She leaned toward her boss. “You can tell the board, I expect a big thank you and raise in return.”