Disclosure_ A Novel - Michael Crichton [69]
“Uh-oh,” Cherry said. “Are we talking humparoonie here or what?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” Lewyn said. “She goes running over to him, and he holds out his arms to her, and I tell you it looks like that ad where the two lovers run toward each other in slow motion.”
“Uh-oh,” Cherry said. “Garvin’s wife is going to be pissed.”
“But that’s the thing,” Lewyn said. “When they finally get together, standing there side by side, it isn’t that way at all. They’re talking, and she’s sort of cooing and batting her eyes at him, and he’s such a tough guy he doesn’t acknowledge it, but it’s working on him.”
“She’s seriously cute, that’s why,” Cherry said. “I mean face it, she’s got an outstanding molded case, with superior fit and finish.”
“But the thing is, it’s not like lovers at all. I’m staring, trying not to stare, and I tell you, it’s not lovers. It’s something else. It’s almost like father-daughter, Don.”
“Hey. You can fuck your daughter. Millions do.”
“No, you know what I think? I think Bob sees himself in her. He sees something that reminds him of himself when he was younger. Some kind of energy or something. And I tell you, she plays it, Don. He crosses his arms, she crosses hers. He leans against the wall, she leans against the wall. She matches him exactly. And from a distance, I’m telling you: she looks like him, Don.”
“No . . .”
“Yes. Think about it.”
“It’d have to be from a very long distance,” Cherry said. He took his feet off the table, and got up to leave. “So what’re we saying here? Nepotism in disguise?”
“I don’t know. But Meredith’s got some kind of rapport with him. It isn’t pure business.”
“Hey,” Cherry said. “Nothing’s pure business. I learned that one a long time ago.”
Louise Fernandez came into her office, and dropped her briefcase on the floor. She thumbed through a stack of phone messages and turned to Sanders. “What’s going on? I have three calls this afternoon from Phil Blackburn.”
“That’s because I told him I had retained you as my attorney, that I was prepared to litigate my claim. And I, uh, suggested that you were filing with the HRC in the morning.”
“I couldn’t possibly file tomorrow,” she said. “And I wouldn’t recommend that we do so now, in any event. Mr. Sanders, I take false statements very seriously. Don’t ever characterize my actions again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But things are happening very fast.”
“Just so we are clear. I don’t like it, and if it happens again, you’ll be looking for new counsel.” That coldness again, the sudden coldness. “Now. So you told Blackburn. What was his response?”
“He asked me if I would mediate.”
“Absolutely not,” Fernandez said.
“Why not?”
“Mediation is invariably to the benefit of the company.”
“He said it would be nonbinding.”
“Even so. It amounts to free discovery on their part. There’s no reason to give it to them.”
“And he said you could be present,” he said.
“Of course I can be present, Mr. Sanders. That’s no concession. You must have an attorney present at all times or the mediation will be invalid.”
“Here are the three names he gave me, as possible mediators.” Sanders passed her the list.
She glanced at it briefly. “The usual suspects. One of them is better than the other two. But I still don’t—”
“He wants to do the mediation tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Fernandez stared at him, and sat back in her chair. “Mr. Sanders, I’m all for a timely resolution, but this is ridiculous. We can’t be ready by tomorrow. And as I said, I don’t recommend that you agree to mediate under any circumstances. Is there something here I don’t know?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Let’s have it.”
He hesitated.
She said, “Any communication you make to me is privileged and confidential.”
“All right. DigiCom is about to be acquired by a New York company called Conley-White.”
“So the rumors are true.”
“Yes,” he said. “They intend to announce the merger at a press conference on Friday. And they intend to announce Meredith Johnson as the new vice president of the company, on Friday.”
“I see,” she said. “So that