Page 23 of Feared

“No, it’s not a complaint that you file in court, where damages are specified. It’s an administrative complaint filed with the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission.”

“So how much can they get if they win? Like ten grand or fifty? Or one hundred grand?”

“It’s hard to say, because we don’t—”

“Can’t you ballpark it?”

“No, because there’s too many variables.”

“What are you, a contractor?” Anthony scoffed. “Gimme a number. I have a right to know, don’t I?”

“Okay, let me think.” Mary had been calculating it in her head for most of the afternoon, though she, Judy, and Bennie kept coming up with different totals, since damages in a failure-to-hire case were notoriously hard to calculate. “It’s three plaintiffs who say they weren’t hired because they’re men. Let’s assume that we lose.” Mary felt sick at the thought alone. “The way to make them whole is to award them what they would’ve earned if they had gotten the job for a reasonable period of years.”

“Are you serious?”

“That’s the theory.” Mary hated getting into the weeds with him. She never should’ve said anything. “So if the going ratefor an associate is seventy grand a year and they were wrongly denied that pay, then that’s three plaintiffs at seventy grand a year, probably for five years and—”

“Are youkiddingme? That’s over a million dollars!” Anthony slammed on the brakes, harder than necessary.

“I know.” Mary had to admit it sounded scary, to her too. “But I would only pay a third of it.”

“So? Where are we going to get that kind of money? Especially now?”

“We’re not going to lose, Anthony.”

“But where will we get the money, if we did? You said yourself, you have to assume you lose, so where do we get that money?” Anthony threw up his hands. “We have akillermortgage. I told you the house was a reach.”

“We’re doing fine with the mortgage.” Mary held her tongue. The new house had been a bone of contention too, but she bought it with her savings, so she’d made the down payment. They would’ve been on easy street but for the fact that she’d gotten pregnant and gotten sued, not in that order.

“Mary, this is adisaster.” Anthony shook his head as he drove. “I didn’t realize you’re getting sued personally.”

“I know, it’s unusual. We think that’s why Machiavelli chose to sue under the statute. In fact, he manufactured the whole case—”

“It doesn’t matter how it began, it only matters how it ends!”

“Well, we don’t know that yet, now do we?”

“No, but we know that,” Anthony shot back, newly agitated. “Wecannotget another loan to pay off any judgment against us.”

“Okay, so we’ll win.”

“You better!”

“So maybe I should work tomorrow?” Mary asked dryly.

“I’ll pack your lunch,” Anthony shot back.

Suddenly Mary’s phone rang, and she pulled it from herpurse and checked the screen to see a FaceTime call from Machiavelli, which wasn’t a complete surprise. It was his modus operandi to call her during their cases, like a kindergartener with his mother’s phone.

She said to Anthony, “Guess who.”

Anthony glanced over. “Him? You don’t have to answer it.”

“Yes, I do. You never know.” Mary pressed the button to take the call, and Nick Machiavelli appeared on the screen. He was handsome in a vaguely seductive way, like Satan with a law degree. He wore his black hair slicked back, and his eyes were narrow slits, with dark brown irises that burned with intensity, even on the phone. His nose was strong, and his jawline was strong, if pugnacious. He dressed like a mobster who shopped at Neiman Marcus, and though he dated plenty of women, Mary could barely set her hatred aside to talk to him.

“Hey Mare, how was dinner?” Machiavelli asked, with a cocky smile.

“Why are you calling?” Mary didn’t bother to hide her disdain. Machiavelli had his minions everywhere in the neighborhood, so he probably didn’t have to guess that she’d been at her parents’ house. She and Machiavelli were like the Good Witch and the Bad Witch of South Philly.