INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER

Before you start reading . . .

A special announcement about this book

Dear Reader –

If you've read any of my other stories here on Wattpad, you know that like most content on Wattpad they are free to the Reader.

BUT this story is part of a new Wattpad Paid Stories program, so only part of the story will be free.

HOW IT WORKS.  You will be able to buy coins through Wattpad, and use those coins to pay for stories like this one, chapter by chapter. It's not like paying for an entire book without knowing what to expect.  The beginning chapters of every book in this program will be free, so you, the Reader, can find out first whether you like the story.  Then you decide if you want to help support moving the story forward by paying a few coins to read the next chapter. And if you lose interest in the story, then you can stop reading – and paying – at any time.

WHY I JOINED THE WATTPAD PAID STORIES PROGRAM.  Like most authors, I don't make a living writing. I have another job - a demanding job with long hours that doesn't leave me a lot of time for writing.  It's simple. If I can get paid for writing, then I can work less at my job and have more time to write, which means I will be able to put more stories on Wattpad, both paid stories and free ones.

SO I'M ASKING YOU TO TRY IT. If you love this story and you want to support the authors who write the stories you love, you can make a difference by rewarding writers like me who spend many hours working hard to bring stories from our heart to yours.

MY PROMISE TO YOU.  I know not everyone can afford to pay for stories. Life is expensive. My Readers matter to me and I don't want to lose a single one of you. That's why I will ALWAYS have some of my stories FREE on Wattpad.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.  And I hope you enjoy my story ALL'S FAIR as much as I enjoyed writing it.

LOVE ALWAYS,

-Jane

* * * * *

And now . . .

Not Really a Florida Girl

The moment Grace stepped through the doors of the airport baggage claim area the blast of hot, Florida air hit her like a solid wall of heat.  She would so much rather be in Philadelphia.

She started toward the taxi stand, heels clicking on the cement, pulling her suitcase behind her.   Her flight had been twenty minutes late, and she was meeting Florida counsel at the client's office in less than an hour.   She calculated whether she had time to stop by the hotel and leave her luggage with the bell captain.  Probably not.   Doubtless Jack Rollins already resented the fact that her firm had sent an attorney in from out of town to oversee his handling of the sexual harassment case that threatened to derail the merger between the Philadelphia-based RKO Electronics and its small but aggressive Tampa-based competitor Shell-Morr Industries.   The last thing she wanted to do was make a bad impression by arriving at the meeting late. 

"Grace Wallace?"   The convertible pulled beside her and she looked over with a start. 

"Yes?"

"Good.  I was getting tired of circling."   He stopped the car, and smiled at her, taking the sting off the impatient words.  He unfolded long legs as he got out of the car, popped the trunk and started loading her luggage.  He was dressed casually, in faded jeans and a soft cotton polo shirt, and his light brown hair fell in unruly waves over his forehead.  Probably the result of speeding along the highway in a convertible.  She'd put him in his mid-thirties, if she had to guess. A little old for the typical law firm "runner," but life had a slower pace in Florida.  She ought to know – she'd grown up here.

"I assume Mr. Rollins sent you?"

He shut the trunk, and turned to her.  His eyes crinkled a little in the corners when he smiled, but it did nothing to lessen the intensity of his pale blue eyes. 

"You could say that."  He reached out his hand.  "Jack Rollins."

His grip was firm, and he held onto her hand just a second too long while those cool blue eyes seemed to measure her. 

She returned his gaze, taking her own measure.  She'd reviewed his bio on the flight, and found it curious that he'd left a prestigious national law firm similar to hers to start his own small law practice.  She hoped it didn't mean his legal abilities were lacking, since she was depending on him to help her sort out the mess with Shell-Morr and save the merger.

"Thank you for picking me up in person." 

"Not a problem."

He opened the car door for her and she slid into the low seat, tucking her trim skirt under her.   The canvas top folded over them and settled into place, making the interior space seem much more confined.

"I wouldn't want to muss up your hair," he said, as the car joined the traffic exiting the airport. 

"Thanks."  Was he laughing at her?  Making a comment on her conservative suit and sleekly styled hair?  She was dressed appropriately for a meeting with an important business client, and he was wearing jeans.  So why did she suddenly feel out of step?

"How much do you know about Morrie Goldstein?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"Not much," she admitted.  "I know he's the founder and CEO of Shell-Morr Industries.  That a complaint was filed by a -" she searched her memory for the name – "Michelle Sherman.  Former Director of 'R&D,' overseeing research and development of new products.  Goldstein claims it's frivolous and has refused to settle.  Ms. Sherman filed a lawsuit in federal court alleging sexual harassment, wrongful discharge and retaliation.  RKO won't go through with the merger until the outstanding claims are resolved."

He seemed to be suppressing a smile, and Grace couldn't imagine what was so amusing about the potential collapse of a merger that had been in the works for more than six months, and already cost considerable attorney's fees.  A merger that RKO – her firm's client – very much wanted to see to fruition.

"So that's the extent of your briefing?"

"Well, yes.  Our merger and acquisitions group has been involved in the transaction, of course, but RKO just contacted our litigation department a few days ago and asked us to get involved.  I was only assigned to it yesterday."  She tried not to sound defensive.

"You have no idea who Michelle Sherman is, do you?"

"Why?" Grace looked over at him as they sped across the bridge toward St. Petersburg.  "Is she some sort of celebrity?"

"Not at all."

"So what am I missing here?"

"I think I'll just let Morrie fill you in on the details."  He grinned. "I'm going to enjoy this."

"Right."  She leaned back in her seat.  One day on the case, and her co-counsel was playing games.

* * *

The corporate offices were located in one of those sprawling industrial park complexes with a series of one-story buildings, indistinguishable except for their suite numbers.  Grace couldn't imagine working someplace where you had to get in your car and drive every day just to have lunch.   Her own office in Philly was located a convenient one block from Reading Market.  And her own building boasted a deli on the third floor, with a dry cleaners, a newsstand, and a health club at street level.  She might not have the unremitting Florida sunshine – when it rained in Philly the weather was gray and dreary for days – but on the other hand, she could survive happily for weeks back at her own office without ever venturing outside.

Employees at Shell-Morr industries had to get in their cars and drive two miles just to get a sandwich.  And at that, the closest and best possibilities were a Burger King and a Taco Bell.  She sighed, as her stomach rumbled.  If her flight had been on time, she could have talked Jack into stopping for a quick lunch and bringing her up to speed on the case.   Given Jack's hint of complications to come, this was probably going to be a long meeting. 

If the single story building was unprepossessing, then Morrie Goldstein's office on the inside was even more of a culture shock from the modern offices of RKO in Philadelphia.  Huge trophies of stuffed fish were mounted on the wall.  A bobble-head batter on his desk reminded visitors to "Gimme your best pitch."   A glassed bookcase on the far wall housed an assortment of soccer trophies awarded to the Shell-Morr Torpedoes, a team Morrie apparently either sponsored or coached.

Morrie got up from his chair, leaning across the desk to pump Jack's hand enthusiastically.  When he shook hands with Grace, she noted that his hands were fleshy and soft, but his grip was firm.  Morrie looked like he was in his mid-50's, a stocky solid man whose presence was so large you only noticed his short stature as a sort of afterthought. 

He settled back down into his chair, across the desk from Grace and Jack, and looked at her speculatively. 

"So you're the lawyer from that fancy firm?"

"My office represents RKO."

"Philadelphia lawyer." He nodded, pursing his lips, and Grace felt defensive in spite of herself. 

"Mr. Goldstein, I'm here to do what –"

"Morrie," he said.  "No need to stand on formality here."

"Morrie," she said, continuing.  "I'm here to do whatever I can to resolve this sexual harassment case so that we can get the deal closed.   I specialize in these cases," she said, reaching into her briefcase to pull out a slim laptop and a legal pad.  "I'd just like to take some notes and –"

"Yeah, yeah, fine, it's all a big misunderstanding."

Grace looked up.  "I'm afraid it's a bit more than a misunderstanding, Mr. Gol-  Morrie.  A lawsuit has been filed against both you and the company in federal court. That's a serious matter."

"Federal, schmederal."

"Morrie." Jack's eyes seemed amused – Grace couldn't imagine why, unless the client and the lawyer had both gone mad – but his voice was serious.  "You promised you'd cooperate with RKO's counsel."

"Well, I am, Jack," Morrie insisted, looking affronted.  "Is it my fault Shelley got some bug up her –"

Jack cleared his throat, and Morrie looked over at Grace. 

"My client isn't always this crude," Jack said.  "He's been under a bit of a strain lately."

"Damned right," Morrie said, nodding.  "Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  Shelley got some crazy idea–"

"Shelley?  That's Michelle Sherman, right?"

"Yeah.  Michelle, Shelley, whatever.  You lawyers ever stop talking long enough, maybe I can get a whole sentence in." 

He looked back and forth between them then, apparently satisfied that there were no immediate interruptions, continued.

"So Shelley comes up to me and it's nag, nag, nag about a problem with this new product line, see?  And she just won't let it go.  'You're the head of R&D,' I say, 'you solve it.'  Then she gets all in a huff about how I don't take her work seriously, then she drops the big one."

"The big one?"

"If you won't invest what I need in R&D, Morrie, then no more sex."

"You were involved in a sexual relationship with your Director of R&D?" Grace said faintly.

"Well, only at the office," Morrie said.

"Only at the office?"

"Yeah," he said, looking as if that made it perfectly okay. 

"And now she's suing you for sexual harassment."

"I should be suing her!  Talk about harassment."

"So is she claiming that once she broke off this . . . relationship, you pressured her to continue to have sex?"

Jack spoke up.  "The allegation is that when Shelley refused to have sex with Morrie, he fired her."

"So, Morrie, what were the reasons for termination of Ms. Sherman's employment?"  Grace held her Monte Blanc pen (a law school graduation present from her mom) poised over her legal pad, ready to take notes.

"I told her she was way out of line.  Who the hell did she think she was, mixing sex and business like that.  Refusing to sleep with me unless I agreed to invest in more research for that new product line – when we're slap in the middle of negotiations to sell the company!  I don't have to put up with that crap.  Not from Shelley."  He nodded smugly.  

"So you told her  . . . no more sex in the workplace?"

"Hell, no, I told her get out, you're fired."

Grace looked over at Jack, who was grinning.  She frowned.  "I don't know what you find amusing about this situation –"

"Damn straight," Morrie said.

"Oh there's more," Jack said, leaning back in his chair.

The intercom on Morrie's desk crackled, and his secretary's raspy voice broke in. 

"Mr. Goldstein?"

"I'm in a meeting.  Didn't I tell you no calls?"

"She's here." The secretary lowered her voice.

"WHAT?  I told you she was barred from the property!  Call security at once and have her re-"

The door to his office opened and a tall, stylish woman swept in, followed by an earnest-looking young man in a business suit.

She looked past Morrie, and focused in on Jack.  "My attorney and I would like a word with you, Jack."

"Now just a gosh, dang minute, Shelley," Morrie said, rising up from his chair.  "You can't hire that lawyer."

"Hi, Dad," the young man said, then walked over to Grace and extended his hand.  "Robert Goldstein," he said.  "And this is my client, Shelley Sherman."