Page 57 of The Proving Ground

“Why wouldn’t everything be okay?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I want you to check.”

I reached over and dropped the phone into its cradle, ending the call. I checked my cell phone and saw it already had enough juice to be opened as long as I kept the charger plugged in. There had been five missed calls and voicemails since nine a.m. Four of the voicemails were from Lorna that morning, her voice growing more intense with each call as she panicked about why I wasn’t responding and wasn’t at the office. The fifth was from Marcus Mason, and it had been left at one minute after nine. He didn’t bother identifying himself.

“Haller, call me. We need to talk.”

I got up from the desk and closed the door, then went back and hit the Return Call button. It was Mason’s cell and he answered right away.

“Haller, we have to meet,” he said.

“Mason, I just got your client’s message,” I said.

“What? What message?”

“The little break-in at my office last night.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course not.”

“Look, never mind that, we have to meet.”

“About what?”

“We have a new offer. A final offer.”

“You know how to make a federal judge mad as hell? You settle a case after she’s spent two days picking a jury.”

“Doesn’t matter. When can you meet?”

“Marcus, what happened to ‘I’m going to tear you apart next week and love every minute of it’?”

“I would have. But the company wants this over. Too much at stake to put the outcome in the hands of twelve idiots. When can you meet? Where?”

“I’m not meeting you, Marcus. I’ve got too much to do today.”

“It’s your obligation to listen and deliver a settlement offer to your clients in a timely fashion.”

“We don’t have to meet. Give it to me and I’ll deliver it. Simple.”

There was a long pause as Mason decided what to do.

“Fifty million,” he finally said. “Your clients decide how to chop it up. The company doesn’t care. Same conditions as the previous offers.”

Now I paused. I felt ashamed because my first thought was about what my cut of fifty million dollars would be. Mason seemed to know this.

“What’s that mean for you, Haller?” he asked. “Twenty million? You should be able to convince them to take it for that.”

I actually had a sliding scale. The higher the settlement, the lower my percentage went until it hit 20 percent. In this case, that meant I’d get ten million if my clients took this deal. It was more money thanI’d earned in my entire career. It would be more than enough to retire on and to build back better Maggie’s home.

I shook off these thoughts and regained focus.

“What are they scared of, Marcus?” I asked.

“I told them I have this in hand,” Mason said. “But they just want it to go away.”

I said nothing for a long moment.