Lisa Scottoline - Lady Killer

“Hi, Mary.” Anne looked up from the back table and tucked her glossy red hair behind an ear, her makeup perfect, her green eyes sparkling, and her body sleek in a russet knit dress. She was so gorgeous she deserved to be hated, which happened from time to time. Three is never a good number for women, especially if they have law degrees.

“Hey, Anne,” Mary said, bucking up at Anne’s warmth.

“DiNunzio, did you say something?” Bennie stood behind her desk, her unruly golden blond head bent over a deposition, and she was putting yellow Post-its on lines of the transcript. An elite rower, she had broad shoulders and stood so tall in her granite-gray suit that she looked like a skyscraper.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Mary made herself ask. Behind Bennie, glistening crystal awards, gold-toned plaques, and framed citations stocked her bookshelves and covered her walls. Bennie Rosato was one of the most highly regarded trial lawyers in the city, a maverick who fought for civil rights. Which, Mary now knew, didn’t pay as well as broken sunroofs.

“Come in and make it fast.” Bennie turned to Anne. “Murphy, can you leave us alone? DiNunzio’s having a hard time asking me something. She may faint. Stand by.”

“I’ll call 911.” Anne laughed and headed for the door. “By the way, thanks for the lasagna.”

“You ate it, you thief?” Mary tripped Anne when she passed, and Bennie gestured her to a seat.

“DiNunzio, come in, close the door, and state your business. You know how I get before cross-examination.”

“Cross?”

Bennie didn’t smile.

“I have something to talk to you about.” Mary lowered herself into a chair, still holding her stuff. If she put her coffee cup on the desk, it would undoubtedly spill on important papers, resulting in an unfavorable jury verdict and loss of gainful employment. “We need help.”

“We do?” Bennie returned to the transcript, flipping the page, which made its distinctively crinkly sound. She kept reading as she stood, her head bent, her hands braced on her desk.

“Yes, I think we need more help here.” Mary chose her words carefully, not wanting to reveal what Judy had told her. “I’m working really hard and I have so many active matters and it’s overwhelming. I have a special-ed case and I can’t give it the attention it needs.”

“Can’t this wait?” Bennie flipped the page.

“No, because I think we need to hire another associate, as soon as possible. I could keep her or him busy.” Mary had thought about it last night, when she’d gotten only three hours sleep. “I know it’s an all-woman firm, and I don’t care if we hire a woman or a man, obviously. I don’t even know if you intended the firm to be all women or not.”

“No.” Bennie flipped another page and kept reading. “You three were the best people, ovaries aside.”

Mary blushed. She knew she had reproductive organs, she just didn’t want to discuss them at the office. “Okay. Well, whatever the gender, I really need help.”

“No.”

Mary had thought there’d be more discussion. It threw her off balance. “Can I ask why not?”

“We don’t have the office space for another person right now, and I’ve been thinking about moving. So we can’t expand before we have the space, for one thing.”

“We could put the new person in the library, temporarily.”

“We need the library and the conference room.”

“Then they could work out of the office, or even at home.”

Bennie looked up sharply, her gaze a fiercely intelligent blue. “DiNunzio, I appreciate that you’re working hard. We all are. But this is a terrible time to discuss this. I have a jury trial this week.”

Mary swallowed hard. “I know, but-”

“I know you’re doing a terrific job, bringing in a lot of business right now.”

Right now?

“Your new clients and cases will cause a strain on you. It’s inevitable. But I can’t take on another associate just because you have a good quarter.”

Judy said three.

“I can’t take on someone and then let that person go when the cases aren’t coming in.”

But Judy said they were trending up.

“You remember when I almost lost the place? I don’t have to remind you that they had an eviction notice on the wall.” Bennie frowned. The phone on her desk rang, but she ignored it. “I can never put myself, or any of you, in that position again.”

“What about a contract lawyer?” Mary had prepared for this argument. “Won’t the business I bring in pay for that person?”

“Money’s not the problem.” Bennie’s unlipsticked mouth curved into a tight smile. “Look, every six months or so, you feel overwhelmed. It’s a pattern. But I have faith in you, and you can get it all done. If you’re still feeling overwhelmed six months from now, we’ll talk again.”

But that will be too late. “Okay.” Mary juggled her coffee and got up.

“That’s a concession, DiNunzio. You’re getting better.” Bennie half-smiled. “By the way, I know some special-ed law. Come to me and we’ll talk about it, just not when I’m on trial.”

“Okay,” Mary said, though she knew she wouldn’t. They both did. When you feel dumb, the last place you go is the boss.

Suddenly, Anne appeared in the open doorway, slightly agitated. “Hate to interrupt you, Bennie, but that was me on the phone.” She gestured to Mary. “There are some clients here to see you.”

“At this hour?” Mary asked, going to the door.

“I’ll be right back, Bennie,” Anne called over Mary’s shoulder, then grabbed the door and closed it behind them. “Trust me, you don’t want her to see this.”

“What’s going on?” Mary asked, puzzled, as Anne hurried them both up the hall toward reception.

“Actually, I’m not sure they’re your clients. They look like your clients.”

Mary knew what she meant. Code for South Philly. Big hair and workmen’s comp appeals. “I’m not expecting anybody this morning.”

“They’re really pissed off at you.”

“Why?” Mary asked, and they’d gotten almost all the way up the hall when three women came charging from the reception area toward them, a flying wedge of curly extensions, big chests, and stiletto heels.

“Mare!” they shouted, from down the hall. “Mary DiNunzio? That you? Get your ass out here!”

At the middle of the hall, Judy, who must have just come into work, opened her office door and popped her head out, her expression astonished. “Who’s yelling? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Mary answered, mystified until she recognized the three women. The Mean Girls-Giulia Palazzolo, Missy Toohey, and Yolanda Varlecki. Each wore tight blue jeans, huge gold earrings, and a form-fitting leather jacket in shades of black, black, and black, respectively. They all had long, matte-black hair in elaborate ringlets, distinguished only by the color of their highlights. Giulia’s streaks were ruby red, Missy’s bleached white, and Yolanda’s electric blue, our nation’s colors gone terribly wrong.

Giulia shouted, “You’re ignorant, Mare! This is all your fault!”

Missy yelled, “You don’t give a crap about anybody but yourself! I always hated your guts!”

Yolanda hollered, “I could effin’ kill you myself!”

Mary froze. Anne took her arm. Judy came out of her office. The three lawyers faced off against the three Mean Girls, but it was no contest. The lawyers had advanced degrees, but the Mean Girls had acrylic tips.

“What are you talking about?” Mary asked, but Judy stepped forward and put up a hand.

“Please stop yelling at my friend. That’s so not cool.”

“Yeah, cut it out,” Anne yelped, just as Missy shoved Judy backward, knocking her off balance. Mary leaped to catch her, dropping her coffee, purse, and briefcase, but Giulia yanked her hair and Yolanda screamed cigarette breath in her face. Mary struggled to get free, somebody with too much lipliner threw a punch at Anne, handbags and clogs went flying, and in the next second, Rosato amp; Associates hosted its first, full-fledged catfight.