Page 7 of The Defense Rests
I continue to sit here, contemplating whether to tell Malloy that I couldn't be on this case. How can I win this case and help Shaun at the same time? Would Malloy understand my dilemma? Would he be grateful if I sought his guidance? A clearing of a throat pulled me out of my thoughts, and the image of Mr. Malloy's disapproving face stopped me from sharing all this. He wouldn't understand, wouldn't see beyond the conflict of interest.
I just need a little more time. Time to process my emotions, to reconcile my personal life with my professional responsibilities. Time to decide what kind of lawyer, what kind of man I want to be.
"I'll ask again," Jackson says, looking at me with a scowl. "Do you have any input on this, Mr. Kapling?"
Besides Shaun needing new representation and this whole meeting being a sham, nothing of substance. Where is our client in all this? She should also be here at this meeting. My stomach turns at the thought that something, my intuition tells me, isn't right.
"No, sir. Nothing to add at this time." I reach over to take the file, and Jackson slaps his meaty hand on top of it. I withdraw my hand.
"Very well. Dr. Whitmore, here is a copy of the settlement. Please review it with your attorney, as you appear to have been distracted by the prosecutor. Have him call Rebecca to set up a new time to review the details and finalize the signing. It's been fourteen months. Let's put an end to this so you can get on with your life and career." Mr. Malloy stands, grabbing the file from the table. "Kapling. My office in five," he says sternly and walks out of the conference room without another look in my direction.
I let out the breath I was holding and looked up at the ceiling.
"Is he always such an ass?" Shaun says across the table from me.
"It's worse now that he made partner," I confess, collecting my bag from the floor.
"I can't imagine. I know this isn't professional, but are you available for dinner? I'm only in town tonight and would love to catch up." Shaun asks, his blue eyes glistening like the ocean at high noon.
"Maybe. Let me check my schedule and text you later." If my brain was in conflict before, it is worse now. Is it ethical for me to have dinner with an old friend, even if we are on opposite sides of the law? "I need to," gesturing over my shoulder with my thumb.
I walk Shaun by the reception area and we say our goodbyes. I don't make it a foot into Malloy’s office before his voice reaches football stadium levels.
"What the fuck just happened in there?" he motions to the door, Shaun's file sitting on the edge of his desk.
"I don't understand. Shaun's lawyer wasn't here, and that whole meeting should have been postponed since he didn't have representation." I kept my voice calm and matter-of-fact.
"Not having representation was his choice. It was a perfect time to go in for the kill. Convince him to sign the settlement. But no. You wanted to make goo-goo eyes at him while I read the settlement." He blurts out, along with spittle. Thankfully, I'm across the room and out of range for the water droplets to land on me.
Now would be a great time to tell him what's going on, so I can wrap up this case. But before I can speak, my stomach twists and I feel nauseated. "I have no idea what you are referring to. Dr. Whitmore is from my hometown. That's all."
"I know. That's why I assigned you the case. So you could convince Whitmore to sign this settlement," he tells me while throwing himself in his desk chair. "You have one more shot to get him to sign this settlement. Take him to dinner. Shmooze him. Fuck him. I don't care what you have to do. Get. Him. To. Sign."
I feel sick, and if I don't get out of here, I may lose my breakfast on his nice, expensive–albeit tacky–rug."I will get the meeting set up for one week from today."
"You'd better. That's all."
I take a step toward Mr. Malloy's desk with my eyes on the file. I need to see what I'm missing, and this gives me a week to do it.
"I don't think so, Kipling. The file stays here. You've had it long enough." His narrow eyes challenging me to argue.
Wait. Did Malloy just call me, Kipling? Who the fuck is Kipling? My last name is Kapling. What a douche.
I offer him a nod before I exit the room, pulling my cell from my pocket with a shaky hand.
Me: Dinner sounds great.
Four
Shaun
The silence in the hotel room is deafening, broken only by the occasional hum of the city outside. I spent the last hour replaying that meeting in my head. I’ve been dealing with Mr. Malloy since the beginning of this case, and each time we meet, he seems a bit more aggressive. I get it. Lawyers need the W, so it makes them look better; more reputable somehow. But from where I was sitting, he was just being a plain ass, especially in the end toward Kai.
Kai.
What did I do in a past life that was so terrible for the universe to put Kai as the opposing counsel? Examining our history, it is clear that the lines and boundaries between our personal and professional lives are being blurred. But it’s been six years. There are no feelings involved. I’m not his client, so we aren’t breaking any ethical code of conduct by inviting him to dinner. It’s just two people who used to hang out together having a meal.Tell that to the chub in your pants when you saw him earlier.
Picking up the settlement documents Mr. Malloy handed me– or slid to me–I read over the terms. The city outside, with its tall buildings and people hurrying along, seems a million miles away. I am alone, left to wrestle with the uncertain path ahead.
