"We're having some problems with it," Garvin said.
"I keep going over what happened," she said. "Wondering what I should have done. But he was angry and out of control. He had too much to drink, and he behaved badly. Not that we all haven't done that at some time in our lives, but. . ." She shrugged. "Anyway, I'm sorry."
"Apparently, he's going to file a harassment charge."
"That's unfortunate," she said. "But I suppose it's part of the pattern-trying to humiliate me, to discredit me with the people in the division."
"I won't let that happen," Garvin said.
"He resented my getting the job, and he couldn't deal with having me as his superior. He had to try and put me in my place. Some men are like that." She shook her head sadly. "For all the talk about the new male sensibility, I'm afraid very few men are like you, Bob."
Garvin said, "My concern now, Meredith, is that his filing may interfere with the acquisition."
"I can't see why that would be a problem," she said. "I think we can keep it under control."
"It's a problem, if he files with the state HRC."
"You mean he's going to go outside?" she asked.
"Yes. That's exactly what I mean."
Meredith stared off into space. For the first time, she seemed to lose her composure. She bit her lip. "That could be very awkward."
"I'll say. I've sent Phil to see him, to ask if we can mediate. With an experienced outside person. Someone like Judge Murphy. I'm trying to arrange it for tomorrow."
"Fine," Meredith said. "I can clear my schedule for a couple of hours tomorrow. But I don't know what we can expect to come out of it. He won't admit what happened, I'm sure. And there isn't any record, or any witnesses."
"I wanted you to fill me in," Garvin said, "on exactly what did happen, last night."
"Oh, Bob," she sighed. "I blame myself, every time I go over it."
"You shouldn't."
"I know, but I do. If my assistant hadn't gone off to rent her apartment, I could have buzzed her in, and none of this would have happened."
"I think you better tell me, Meredith."
"Of course, Bob." She leaned toward him and spoke quietly, steadily, for the next several minutes. Garvin stood beside her, shaking his head angrily as he listened.
Don Cherry put his Nikes up on Lewyn's desk. "Yeah? So Garvin came in. Then what happened?"
"So Garvin's standing over there in the corner, hopping up and down from one foot to the other, the way he does. Waiting to be noticed. He won't come over, he's waiting to be noticed. And Meredith's talking to me about the Twinkle drive that I have spread all over the table, and I'm showing her what we've found is wrong with the laser heads"
"She gets all that?"
"Yeah, she seems okay. She's not Sanders, but she's okay. Fast learner."
"And better perfume than Sanders," Cherry said.
"Yeah, I like her perfume," Lewyn said. "Anyway-"
"Sanders's perfume leaves a lot to be desired."
"Yeah. Anyway, pretty soon Garvin gets tired of hopping, and he gives a discreet little cough, and Meredith notices Garvin and she goes `Oh,' with a little thrill in her voice, you know that little sharp intake of breath?"
"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."