Monahan 01 Options (19 page)

“Right,” I snorted. “Listen, can I ask you something in confidence?”

He hesitated. “Uh, sure. As a friend or as the company’s counsel?”

“Cut the crap Cleve. As both. As my friend and as the company’s lawyer. Can you wear both hats?” He didn’t answer so I continued. “Is Rick Cox denying he made those changes to the system?” I knew I was on very shaky ground here.

“Yes, Rick is maintaining his innocence in this matter.”

“Shit, Cleve. You sound like a defence lawyer. Maintaining his innocence,” I mimicked. “Did he tell you he fired someone else in the company for making the changes in the system?”

“Yes. He told me the circumstances,” he said.

“Can he do that?”

“You mean fire someone for the screw-up?”

“Yes. The person he fired happens to be a friend who needs his job. And his reputation. I want to know how the board can accuse Cox, and fire him, and then Cox turns around and accuses someone else. Wouldn’t my friend have a case for saving his job by proving that the board of directors of this company had proof that Rick Cox did it and fired him for it? How can Cox pass the blame and fire someone else? I could see it if they did it together or if the company had proof they did it together. But the board is firing just Cox for this fuck up.” I was out of breath.

“Kate, Rick Cox is resigning,” Cleve said slowly. “The Board is not firing him.”

I was shocked.

“You fuck,” I yelled into the phone. “You know damn well that a lynching occurred on a conference call on Saturday night and all of the board members were made aware of what Rick Cox did. They all agreed to fire him.”

“Kate, I’m aware of no such thing. Chris Oakes made it clear that Rick Cox was resigning to pursue personal business. I met with Rick to ask him for his resignation. The company records will show that Rick resigned.”

“Save it for the press you miserable shit,” I yelled and slammed down the phone.

Jay was going to fry along with Rick.

chapter twenty-five

I had to get out of this place. The morons weren’t only running the zoo, they were being advised by professional morons who they paid handsomely for their moronic advice. Rationally, I supposed, if I thought about it, I could understand where Cleve was coming from. Irrationally though, I wanted to spit in Cleve’s face.

I forwarded my phone to voice mail and picked up the board documents that I’d been waiting to give back to Harold. I saw that his office door was still closed so I went into the bullpen where the legal assistants sat and headed for Jackie’s desk.

She was bent over an open file drawer trying to jam a file folder into the already packed filing cabinet. She looked up at me helplessly.

“I know, I know,” I said. “I promise we’ll go through these drawers soon and get rid of all the dead stuff. Give you more room.”

“Why don’t I make a current list of everything in the cabinets and you can just mark on it which files I can dead store. That’ll make it easier for you,” she said. The girl was always thinking. Jackie had been in the department for about a year now and she was worth her weight in gold. She was keen and had a great work attitude.

“Great idea. And I promise I’ll look at the list. Listen, I’m going out. Harold wanted these documents revised,” I said. I handed the pile to her. “He doesn’t want to be disturbed and I’m sure as hell not going in there. If and when his door opens, put these in his basket. And keep an eye open for a courier package from Scapelli’s. Cleveland Johnston’s sent over some urgent documents and Harold needs to look at them right away. In fact, if the package arrives, send Harold an e-mail telling him it’s here. He might be checking his messages in there. Either way, wait until his door opens. And if anyone asks, I’ll be back when I’m back.”

“Uh, sure Kate.” She hesitated a moment. “You will be back this afternoon won’t you?”

“Don’t worry Jackie. I won’t leave you to be eaten up by the wolves. Yeah, I’ll be back. I’m just going out for a walk. Clear my head.”

“A walk? You’re sure? But you don’t walk Kate.”

“Maybe I’m starting. See you later.”

I came out of the office and stood at the corner of King and Bay Streets. I was confused about which way to go. I’d never deliberately gone for a walk. Sure, I’d walk to get something to eat, or walk to my doctor’s office four blocks over. But to walk for the sake of walking was something new to me. I turned left and hiked south on Bay Street. At Front Street I looked right and left. Nothing interested me either way and the looming Union Station just depressed me even more. I continued down Bay through the underpass towards Lake Ontario and Queen’s Quay. I mentally patted myself on the back as I passed two sidewalk vendors selling hot dogs. I dodged a few homeless people panhandling for money. My pace was by no means brisk, but I walked as fast as my short legs could carry me, although walking briskly wasn’t something easily accomplished at lunchtime in this area of the city. The sidewalks were teeming with people and I managed to hit every red light. The road was torn up as usual at the entrance to Lakeshore Boulevard, and I stepped carefully over the construction debris littering the street.

There was less traffic noise and things were more peaceful when I finally reached Queen’s Quay. The sun was bright and the reflection on the lake hurt my eyes. I found an unoccupied bench facing the lake and I sat down heavily. I rummaged in my purse for sunglasses and cigarettes. I wasn’t out of breath and felt good. I wasn’t sure if the walk could be considered aerobic exercise because I hadn’t worked up a sweat. But I had walked. And I reminded myself as I lit a cigarette, that I hadn’t walked for exercise, I had walked to get away from the office.

I leaned back on the bench and tilted my face to the sun and thought about quitting. The job. The so-called career. I wondered if there were places to work out there that treated their employees like people. Places that realized that the workers
were
people. I laughed out loud when I realized that those types of places only existed in brochures describing working conditions in communist countries. I knew I was cynical but I had earned the right. I had been watching grown men play at being powerful executives now for so many years it was a joke.

How important was it all, I asked myself. In the whole scheme of things, how important was the business our company was in? In two years, we’d be selling customers something completely different because technology changes so quickly. Our executives clearly didn’t care about our customers. Look at how many of our former customers have us tied up in litigation. We weren’t working on a cure for cancer. We were selling technology. Big fucking deal. I flicked my cigarette butt into the grass.

So Kate, if you quit, what’ll you do? I had always been cocky enough to think I could get a job anywhere. Enough people had told me they wanted to hire me. I could make a list as long as your arm of the number of high-powered executives in this city who had patronizingly told me what a fantastic job I did. “Hope they pay you well, Kate,” several had said to me.

Right. I made excellent money for a secretary and I had surpassed the salary ceiling for that field of work. But you’re not a secretary Kate, I reminded myself. You’re a paralegal. And paralegals make less money than secretaries. There was no way I could go to a law firm and make the money I was making at TechniGroup. I was making more now than many junior associates in law firms.

I mentally kicked myself for not going to law school when I had the chance. I had the applications filled out and had taken the LSAT exams and was ready to take the plunge. There was enough money saved to get by and Mom and Dad had promised to help if things got rough. But then I met Tommy. Whirlwind romance. Every time he’d kissed me, the thought of law school got further and further from my mind. By the time the dust had settled and we were divorced I had no more ambition. I’d quit the law firm and started doing temp work in the city. There was a different job each week and I had started to really enjoy not getting attached to the people I worked with. Like a homeless person wandering the streets, only I wandered the offices of Toronto. It was a great healing time for me.

I was ready to settle down again when they offered me a full-time job at TechniGroup. And now I had the seven year itch. Seven years at TechniGroup. I knew there wasn’t anywhere else for me to go in the company in terms of advancement. But who was I kidding? There’s only so far you can go as a secretary or for that matter, a paralegal. You work with one of the top dogs and you do all their dirty work. Day in and day out. Most times the work was interesting but after a while, it was the same. If I went to another company I’d be doing the same thing after six months. Working for one of the senior people and as soon as I got the hang of the company and all the inner workings, I’d be back in the same boat. What a vicious fucking circle. Maybe it was time to get into a whole new field.

I put my elbows on my knees and cupped my face in my hands and stared out at the lake. Shit, this was depressing. I felt my shoulders getting heavy and knew that if I didn’t shake out of this mood I’d be in sad shape by the end of the day.

The assholes were getting to me and I was feeling sorry for myself. If my mother were here she’d jack me up and tell me to snap out of it. “There’s always someone worse off than you,” she’d say. And she’d be right.

I had a job. A nice apartment. A car that worked most of the time. I had friends. And family. And what did I care about those idiots at TechniGroup? I cared about what they were doing to Jay. And how he was going to get fucked worse than Rick Cox. At least Cox’ll get a very generous severance package. And his stock options. Jay’ll get nothing.

I smiled to myself when I thought about the severance for Rick. Right now we were telling the public he resigned. But when we disclosed the terms of his settlement package, as we were obliged to do under securities laws, we’d have to disclose the fact that we paid him severance. Any shareholder in their right mind should ask the question, why pay severance when someone resigns? I’m sure the company was banking on the fact that shareholders had short memories. The company would part with over a million dollars just to get rid of Rick Cox. And Jay is on the street, without a reference and no severance. I was starting to get pissed off again and being pissed off felt a lot better than being depressed.

I started walking back over to Bay Street and dreaded the thought of the long walk back to the office. Fuck it, I thought. I’d had enough exercise to last me a month. I hailed a cab.

chapter twenty-six

Jackie was standing outside my office door wringing her hands when I got back. She looked worried.

“Kate, thank God you’re back,” she said anxiously.

Great, another crisis. Well, they’ll just have to take a number and get in line. I opened the door and waved her in.

“What is it Jackie?”

“There’s a police officer in the reception waiting to see you. The receptionist has been calling every five minutes looking for you.”

“A police officer? Why? Did anyone say what he wants?”

“No,” Jackie said. “And it’s a she. Do you want me to go get her?”

“No. Thanks. I’ll go.”

Thoughts of disaster ran through my mind as I walked quickly to the reception area. God. Please don’t let it be something awful. I’d never had a police person call on me before. I had no idea what to expect. My mouth was dry and my mind was racing.

She was sitting in one of the guest chairs in the reception thumbing through a magazine. As I came in, the receptionist said my name and the police officer stood up. She was very petite and almost as short as I was.

I held out my hand and said, “Hi. I’m Kathleen Monahan.”

“Hi. I’m Constable Gina Lofaro.” She shook my hand.

Gina had very short, very curly black hair. Her skin was almost see-through and she looked like a china doll. Beautiful dark eyes and a perfectly shaped nose. She could be a model, I thought. Being a police officer on the streets of Toronto must be one tough job and I quickly got past her delicate beauty. She obviously didn’t get the job because of her looks.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” she asked me.

“Uh, sure.” I turned around to the receptionist and asked her if the small meeting room was empty. She nodded.

I pointed Constable Lofaro to the closed door on the opposite side of the reception area. I opened the door and turned on the lights and sat down on one of the chairs at the small, circular meeting table. I looked up at her anxiously as she closed the door behind her.

“Is there something wrong? Has there been an accident?” I asked her. My voice was shaky and my knees felt weak. I put my hands in front of me on the table.

“No, no. Everything’s okay. Danny Morris asked me to talk to you.”

My knees started to knock.

“Danny?” I croaked out. I cleared my throat. “Danny? Evelyn Morris’ son? Is he all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine. So to speak. Let me start at the beginning.” She pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down. She pulled out a small notebook from her breast pocket and flipped it open.

“As you are no doubt aware, Evelyn Morris died on Thursday night. An autopsy was performed and the coroner has ruled her death accidental. The autopsy report noted that there were very high levels of peanut oil in her digestive system. The report also noted that Mrs. Morris was severely allergic to nuts.” She looked up at me.