Chapter 9 #2
“Three million per plaintiff. You’re right, that is appropriate.”
“Three million total. Obviously.” Ian exchanged a who-does-he-think-he-is glance with Sami.
The moment he looked away, Sami’s eyes darted toward the ceiling.
Interesting. Shocking lack of poker face aside, between the eyeroll and the way he had grimaced last night when Baz had mentioned Ian’s name… Sami didn’t like Ian.
The realization hit Baz like a brick. If he was right— and he always was— Sami might be way less loyal to Ian than Baz had suspected. Which meant the odds were Sami hadn’t just seemed sincere last night, he truly had been.
That changed everything. And obliterated any reason to tiptoe around the pièce de résistance.
“No, I’ll tell you what’s obvious: the disrespect of you coming into my firm offering my clients what, less than fifty thousand each? For your client’s reckless negligence giving them cancer? That barely covers four rounds of chemotherapy!”
Ian nodded thoughtfully. “Hm. If only you could prove beyond reasonable doubt what caused that tragedy.”
“I can,” Baz growled. He would turn over every contaminated pebble if need be. “Two million per plaintiff. It is the least Captain Green can do and trust me, I’ll push for more in front of a judge.”
He slid their own offer across the table. Ian didn’t so much as glimpse at it. No, he snorted as though Baz were the toddler here.
“I’d like to see you try. My offer is really quite generous, Sebastian. A nod from Captain Green that acknowledges your clients’ unfortunate, yet unrelated, struggles.”
Bullshit. This was a slap in the face. A futile power play. Everyone knew forty sick kids had better chances with a jury than a big corporation ever would. There was no way Ian wasn’t authorized to go higher when a thirty-million-dollar offer had been on the table two weeks ago.
Baz leaned on his forearms, folding his hands together. “Let me be plain: every offer you make that has less than nine digits is wasting my time.”
“Every offer you make that has more than seven is wasting mine.”
“Then we’re done here.”
Baz buttoned his jacket as he stood up. The right corner of Sami’s mouth twitched. He liked the strong lawyer look, huh? Lucky for him, there was plenty of that to come.
Ian’s chair scraped over the floor. He buried his hands in his pockets. “Don’t forget to inform your plaintiffs about your unwillingness to compromise. They’ve been through so much, I’d hate for them to have to deal with a slander lawsuit all because their lawyer is a wuss.”
“Are you threatening me with retaliatory actions?” The American Bar Association would love to hear about that very illegal nugget.
Ian gasped with fake indignation. “I’d never. I am simply asking you to be smart about this. How much more time do your clients really have to waste?”
Wow. It took a special kind of evil to pressure people with cancer into a lowball offer. It wouldn’t work, not on Baz’s watch. He’d rub his victory into Ian’s smug, unnatural face until he too would move to Oklahoma for an early retirement.
“That’s enough of that. I’ll see you out,” Aya declared and held the door open. Ian strutted out. Aya followed, leaving only Baz and Sami alone in the glass room.
Slowly, Sami leaned over the desk to pick up their settlement offer. “That was productive.”
“I think I preferred the blank sheets of paper,” Baz mumbled before he remembered why it was a bad idea.
Sami’s eyes snapped toward him. “I thought having an excuse would help. Did it help?” His voice was low, trembling through Baz.
“Maybe.”
Finally, Sami unleashed the smile he had been holding back, wide and toothy. Baz’s heart picked up speed when Sami stepped closer, staring at his collar. “I was right. It is hot to know it’s there.” His chapped lip caught behind the crooked tooth. What Baz wouldn’t give to pull it free…
Too soon, Sami turned, hips swinging with every step toward the elevator. The cheap fabric did not do the subtle curve of his ass justice. A body like his deserved more than a sack parading as a suit… Aya’s widened eyes pierced through him through the glass wall. Baz flinched. Shit.
He busied himself with collecting the sham offer. This was not the kind of news with which he had hoped to start his professional relationship with their clients. Hopefully, the kids would be even more determined to give Captain Green hell now out of spite alone.
“What was that?” Aya asked. Baz ignored the alarm in her voice.
“I know. Wish I could say I expected better, but Ian is the devil.”
“You just checked out his associate!”
Baz’s stomach dropped into his pants.
“No, I didn’t,” he said too fast. “I got distracted by how bad his suit is, that’s all.”
For a statement so true, Aya looked awfully disbelieving. Her nostrils flared.
“Are you flirting with him?”
“No!” Technically, Sami was flirting with him—Baz just hadn’t been very good at stopping it. And somehow, that hadn’t backfired, because Sami seemed to possess a speck of integrity. That did make today feel like a win in its own way.
“Then why did you smile at him?”
What, Baz couldn’t smile at a man without flirting? He bit the snark down before it tipped Aya off.
“It was nothing.”
“I have known you for six years, and that wasn’t nothing.”
What a pitiful testimony to Baz’s sex life that was. No wonder he had been so thirsty last night.
“I don’t like him, Aya.”
“Hm.” Incredible how loaded with disapproval a short hum could be. “I hope you mean that, for your sake. It’s not worth the risk.”
“I know.”
He did, in theory.
He’d do a better job remembering it too.