Chapter 4 #2
“I won’t.” Messes didn’t make people partners before they were thirty. He didn’t even know how to spell mess, that was how good Baz was. Losing wasn’t part of his brand.
Regardless of what that prick Sami had claimed, given the circumstances, the Harrison case had been no loss.
The deal Baz had cut with the prosecutor was the best Harrison could hope for after he got caught hacking the private communication of the executives at his firm and using insider info to rearrange his stock market portfolio.
“I’m counting on you, Baz.”
“You can. I got this.”
To prove it, he filled her in on everything he had learned last night.
Having her in his office, on the other side of his desk, was an odd twist to their usual dynamic.
So far, it had always been Baz seeking out Aya to deliver the work he did for her cases, or for the odd bit of advice.
This, Aya assisting him… It should have been weird, but frankly, Baz loved it already.
“I drafted what I think the settlement should look like. I’m gonna run it by the lead plaintiff later.” He pushed his list of scribbled notes over.
“And you came up with this in the five seconds between Ian calling off the deal and me arriving?”
“I plead the fifth.”
Aya sighed. Eye roll aside, she didn’t reprimand him for pushing for a better outcome, or as he liked to think of it, doing his job.
“I’ll try to decipher your handwriting.”
Excellent. And while she did that… In case Ian was serious about getting the case thrown out, Baz needed to prepare.
The paint theory Ian and Sami had thrown around was ridiculous.
Yes, the clubhouse had been done up seven years ago, which included a new coat of paint in the cafeteria, but even if the paint did include the trichloro-whatever-it-was-called, all his research suggested the kids would have to have licked it off the walls and bathed in several truck loads of it on the field for it to have possibly cause this cancer epidemic.
Annoyingly, Ian was right about the lack of records that could have proved the ground wasn’t contaminated before the year in question. A minor hurdle, but Baz hadn’t been hired to get compensation for the environmental destruction.
As for the asbestos theory—no structural changes had occurred that could have made the fibers airborne, if they were even there in the first place.
Even so, asbestos poisoning was not associated with lymphoma.
Still, Baz would make a point of requesting details on the architecture to be prepared for the next time Ian threw that in his face.
Thinking of things Ian had thrown into his face. That Sami… He was an unknown variable.
Ian and his chase for prestige were predictable; he loved the camera almost as much as he loved people thinking he was the best. But in all those articles and media appearances that popped up when Baz searched his name, there was no mention of an associate he worked with.
Was Baz surprised Ian didn’t share credit?
No. Strange, though, that no reporter had cared to name everyone involved on Ian’s team.
Only on the third result page did he find a picture of both Ian and Sami.
They were posing in front of the courthouse, Ian at the center with that chemically white smile, a bunch of suits around him, and Sami.
He was at the very edge, half covered by a bald old man, but Baz recognized the loose, luscious curls framing the oval face.
He zoomed in as much as the computer allowed, screenshotted Sami’s face, and ran it through reverse image search. And… nothing except the article he got it from. All other results were about some actor that barely looked like Sami, his face too sharp, his eyes too ordinary.
Granted, the picture quality was dodgy, but—
A coffee appeared in his line of sight. When had Aya gone out? How had Baz missed her coming back in? And how many coffees a day posed a medical risk? All important questions for after he got his caffeine rush.
“Thank you.” The cup warmed his palms, oozing with a sweet, nutty smell that had Baz’s eyes flutter shut. Being awake for thirty-six hours had his brain spinning.
One sip of liquefied gold was enough for his tired synapses to fire back up. This was the stuff. Definitely from the partners’ floor with the much superior coffee machine. With coffee by his side, he had a couple more hours of productivity in him, easily.
“What had you frowning when I came in?” Aya asked as she sat down, sipping from her own mug.
“This Sami, Ian’s associate that tagged along earlier. I can’t find anything on him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, no cases or mentions in relation to Ian, no social media, just nothing. That’s odd, isn’t it?” Who didn’t have a digital footprint these days? There was being camera shy—and Sami had no reason to be—and then there was being a ghost.
“Maybe he’s a new hire.”
“Maybe. But a wise lawyer once told me it’s important to know who you’re going up against.” He offered his best attempt at Eevee’s puppy eyes. Sami had been too confident for this to be his first ever case. Someone ought to know him—and Aya had connections he could only dream of.
“You want me to investigate?” Aya asked wryly.
“Knowing your opponent is just as important as knowing your facts, isn’t it?”
“Fine. But only because you just proved that you listen when I talk.”
Of course he did. He had always known that one day, he’d get to use her words against her. It was as satisfying as he’d imagined.
She returned barely ten minutes later, her face too neutral to give anything away. The lawyer mask was so ingrained on her features, Baz sometimes wondered if that was just her face now.
“And?” he prompted.
Aya crossed her legs. “I had to call in a favor from a friend at court, so you didn’t hear this from me, got it?”
Ooh. Baz closed his laptop and rested his chin on his intertwined hands. “Go on.”
“His name is Sami Adam. He was a summer associate at Hoffman he was fourteen years old again, back in his childhood home in the suburbs, hiding behind the door frame. Eevee’s frail voice echoed in his ears. Mom?
“There’s more.” Aya’s voice snapped him back into reality. He blinked, clawing into the arms of his chair. “You wanna guess who got him off the hook without as much as a misdemeanor charge weeks before hiring him?”
With a setup like that, it could only be one person.
“Why would Ian do that?”
Baz dreaded to think what he got out of that deal. Not that he cared. Unless what he got out of it was access to Sami’s drug supply—now that info Baz would pay good money for.
“Can’t tell you that, just that the charges were dropped, and it’s all been hush-hush since. Might explain why you couldn’t find anything on him.”
That checked out. Hiring criminals would be quite the stain on Ian’s better-than-everyone image.
Why have the integrity to not employ someone who exploited people’s vulnerabilities if he could make it all go away instead?
Yet another drug dealer who had gotten away with destroying who knew how many lives, thanks to a deal with the devil… How vile.
Baz couldn’t believe he had been the faintest bit attracted to that guy. He’d take pleasure in wiping the floor with both of them.