Chapter 19
Marina sipped her quadruple-shot latte, her feet up on her desk, her laptop precariously balanced on her thighs.
Two million views and a constant flow of heart emojis crowned Adriana’s segment from the night before.
The comments were largely in support of the South Shore community and against the idea of gentrification as a whole, though one commenter wondered why being genteel was such a crime.
Many of the comments cited articles, videos, and facts about what happened when real estate developers took over a city, and those comments had received an enormous amount of clicks.
“Sheep. Fucking sheep, all of them. They wouldn’t know the definition of gentrification if it was tattooed on their fucking foreheads and they read it every day in the mirror.
” No one was in her office to respond to her acidity, but she didn’t care.
Some things just had to be said out loud.
“Warpath warning,” Rob said, appearing in her doorway. “Incoming.” He wandered away as quickly as he’d appeared.
She took her feet from the desk, and her laptop tipped, slid, and headed for the floor. She lurched to grab it and the lid popped off her coffee, which then splattered over her white blouse and onto the desk, where files began to suck up the liquid like they’d just been waiting for the chance.
“Sometimes I wonder if you’re occasionally replaced with a bot who doesn’t know how to act like a competent human.” Montgomery stood in her doorway, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned his head slightly and spoke over his shoulder. “Ms. Fuentes could use some paper towels.”
Marina stood, embarrassment setting her face on fire. “Believe me, some days I wonder if I’ve been cursed.” She shook out her blouse, trying to hold the wet fabric away from her bra. She wasn’t prepared for a wet T-shirt contest in her own office where she was the only one on stage.
Cari came in with a roll of paper towels and took in the whole situation instantly. She dropped the roll on the desk and opened the small corner closet to pull out a sweatshirt, which she tossed to Marina. She turned her back and pulled it on quickly.
“Let’s sit here while Cari does her thing.” She sat on the couch, and he took the leather chair beside it. At least she could dictate that much of their interaction.
“Sheila says she specifically told you not to go to the protest last night. But there you are on camera. Why?”
It was like talking to her father when he’d caught her doing something wrong.
That same patriarchal censure when she and her sisters had gone too far in their adventures.
But she was a long way from that life now.
And who the hell was Sheila to go tattling on her?
“I asked if she wanted me to go on her behalf and she said no. There was no reason not to go simply because I wanted to. And I made it very clear to the reporter that I wasn’t there on behalf of Black Pinnacle. ”
His gaze moved away from the Harvard logo on her sweatshirt to where Cari was mopping up the desk, and then back to Marina. “Don’t try to handle me, Marina. Our client’s wishes were clear, and you went against them.”
She frowned and smashed the barrage of words trying to get out into something that might not get her fired.
“I’m not handling you, Mongomery. I was curious, and I’m a lawyer on this case.
I’m not under any directive to follow Sheila Black’s orders outside this office.
” She tilted her head, noticing the tick in his jaw.
“Is there something else I need to know?”
He ran his hand through his thinning hair. “How deeply do you think this idiotic, sensationalistic reporter will dig?”
Ah. So they were worried about the dirt under Black Pinnacle’s fingernails. “Despite her use of social media platforms, she’s highly regarded and has done stellar work on serious stories. If she says she has something, then she does.” She waited, wondering how much he knew.
He stood abruptly, smoothing his hands down his slacks. “I’m calling Sheila. I want a team meeting to discuss a plan of defense.”
Marina stood too, hands on hips, anger flaring. “Why?”
He looked down his nose at her. “What do you mean? So we can get ahead of this, obviously.”
“No. I mean why are you calling her? She’s my client, correct? Or have I missed something?” In her periphery, she could see Cari stop what she was doing to stare at the confrontation.
“Don’t be na?ve, Marina. She’s a personal friend, and I’m the main partner at this firm. Don’t behave like some DEI hire I have to handle with kid gloves.” He looked her over. “I suggest a change in wardrobe before she arrives.” He left the stench of cigars in his wake.
Cari hurried to the door, her flowy red skirt flapping behind her, and shut the door firmly.
Then she went to a file cabinet in the corner, yanked out the bottom drawer, and turned toward Marina with extra-large bubble wrap in her hands.
She held it out. “You can’t go breaking anything, especially his head, so use this until you can go punch something more satisfying. ”
Marina grabbed it and slammed her fingers against the stiff bubbles.
Each one was his broken finger, a punch to his jaw, a knee to the groin.
She stared out the window at the lake until the last bubble had been popped and she could breathe again.
She turned to find Cari sitting on the couch, reading through a file.
“You should invest in this. Thanks.” She crumpled it and stuffed it in the little garbage can. “What a shithead.”
“I can think of other, better words. But for now, those will do.” She nodded at the clothing draped over the chair. “Change of clothes. Leave your blouse on my desk, and I’ll get it drycleaned on my way home.”
Marina picked up the clothes and squeezed Cari’s shoulder on her way to the bathroom. “Can you get another coffee delivered? Maybe two. I’ll reheat one later. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.”
In the bathroom, she used a wet paper towel to wash the coffee from her skin before she put on the fresh clothes.
She still smelled like she’d fallen into a vat of espresso, but some of the lemongrass lotion in her desk would help with that.
DEI hire. She clenched her jaw so hard, it made her temples ache.
How fucking dare he? She’d busted her ass to get where she was now, and it had fuck all to do with her being Latina.
She nearly stomped back to the office. The blouse was ruined, she was sure of it, and she stuffed it into the garbage. The damp sweatshirt she’d wash when she was eventually home long enough to think about laundry.
“You’ve got twenty minutes. Conference C has been booked.
” Cari was standing behind Marina’s desk, spreading out files.
“On top is a bullet point list of the people who have been made offers and their current responses. I’ve also loaded the latest Adriana video just in case you need it.
” She looked up expectantly. “What else can I do?”
Marina sat down and looked at the files as her mind whirled.
“Get me a rundown of the exact amounts people have been offered, and do some deep digging into housing prices in the area. We’ve been using simple data.
I can’t believe that old woman’s house valued at that much, and I want to know if it’s true. ”
Cari saluted with her bright pink pen and headed for the door.
“Cari, I’d like you to sit in on the meeting and take notes. And if I get up to do anyone physical harm, do your best to try to stop me from killing them completely.”
She nodded, her expression somber. “Incomplete death only. Understood.”
Eighteen minutes later, Marina was seated in the conference room. Cari had chosen to take a seat up against the back wall by the water carafe and glasses. She said the acoustics were better, but Marina had a feeling it was so she’d be out of the line of fire.
Sheila swept in, followed by five more people.
She went straight to Marina and embraced her, kissing her cheek, before she pulled back to look at her.
“I’m so glad you weren’t hurt in that absurd protest. I did tell you not to go.
” She touched Marina’s cheek, her skin dry as desert sand.
“But you handled yourself admirably enough. Your assertion about cities being like tides was a nice touch.”
Marina took a small step back. “I believe it. As I said, I didn’t go as your representative.
” She nodded toward at least one face she recognized.
“You had people there for that. I was curious, and I’m not one to be told how to live my life beyond work hours.
I’m sorry you felt the need to complain to my boss that I didn’t behave like a good little child. ”
Sheila’s eyes narrowed but before she could respond, Montgomery walked in.
“Let’s get started.”
He sat at the head of the table, of course, and on a whim, Marina sat at the other end. Who was the head of the table now? His gaze flickered past her to Sheila, who sat on his right. “We want to get a unified defense in place. Attack from every angle.”
Sheila shook her head, elegant gray hair sliding along the tops of her shoulders. “I want to go on the offense. I refuse to hide from the likes of that little twit. I have people digging into her past. If she wants to fight dirty, she’ll find that she’s no match for me.”
Marina had no doubt that was true. “Public scrutiny on this issue is going to be intense. She’s concentrating on Black Pinnacle tonight. Sheila, is there anything we should know in order to mitigate possible damages?”