"Grace Wallace," she said, shaking hands.  "I'm the attorney for RKO."

Morrie started sputtering.  "You can't hire him! What's she paying you, Robbie?"

Shelley leveled a cool gaze at him.  "I get a special rate."

"A special . . .? But, but, he's in real estate!  He can't go to court!"

"I certainly can go to court," Robert said, standing up straighter.

"Yes you can, dear," Shelley said, then turned to Morrie, her eyes narrowing.  "Well maybe I could afford to hire a high-powered out-of-town litigation firm like you did" – she glanced over at Grace -  "if I hadn't been fired from my job for refusing to have sex with you on the conference room table," she said, and Robert winced.

"Get out!" Morrie's face was turning red. 

"We just stopped by," she said calmly,  "to pick up some things from my office.  My former office.  Oh, and to drop off the notice for your deposition, and a document production request, and interrogatories . . . oh, and a copy of that motion my lawyer filed this afternoon.  Robbie?"

Robert handed a stack of papers to Jack, who said, "you know, it's fine to just drop this stuff in the mail. Or send it by email."

"We were in the neighborhood," Shelley said.

"Come on, Shelley," Morrie said.  "Be reasonable."

"We'll see you in court, Morrie," she said, then turned on her stiletto heels and marched back out of the office, her lawyer in tow.

Grace stared at Morrie.  "I don't even know where to begin."  She sighed.   "Why is your son representing a former employee who is suing you?"

"Well he's her son, too," Morrie grumbled.

"How long exactly was this office romance?" Grace asked, her voice getting squeaky.

"She's my wife!"

"Ex-wife," Jack amended.

"You might have mentioned that on the drive here, Jack."

He shrugged.  "Hard to know where to begin."

"Right."

"So, you see?" Morrie said. "No problem, right?  The whole lawsuit is ridiculous.  I don't even know why RKO bothered sending you down here."

"The situation may be 'ridiculous,' but the lawsuit's real enough, Morrie," Jack said.

"Come on, what Judge is gonna' say I was 'sexually harassing' Shelley? We just, we've got a long history, okay?  And just 'cause she divorced me, I mean, I don't take that personal, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Grace said, feeling the beginnings of a headache.  "I'll take your word for it that the sex was consensual.  But Morrie, you can't fire an employee – even if she is your ex-wife – because she says she doesn't want to sleep with you anymore.  It's against the law."

"Yeah, yeah.  I knew I was breaking the contract.  But she already sued me in state court.  This federal court case is just bullshit."

"It might be bullshit, Morrie," Jack said, "but it's expensive bullshit.  You realize this could kill the deal with RKO."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Grace said quickly.  "But wait, what do you mean she already sued you.  There's another lawsuit between you and Shelley? In state court? What contract?"

"He can't fire her," Jack explained.  "It's part of the settlement in the divorce case.  Shelley owns 30% of the company, and has a no-cut employment contract."

"You own the other 70%?"

"No. I've got 50.  The kids have ten each."

"So she sued you for breach of the marital settlement agreement?"

"Yep."

"I don't get it.  If she already sued you in state court for firing her, why the whole sexual harassment case in federal court?"

"Because she's a ball buster, that's why."

"No, Morrie," Jack said.  "It's because in the state court case the best she can get is her job back."  He leaned back further in his chair and crossed his ankles.

"So, Grace," he said.  "You're the employment law expert.  Why don't you tell us why Shelley thought it was a good idea to sue the company in federal court for wrongful termination and sexual harassment under Title VII." 

"Gee, Jack."  She looked at Morrie.  "Can you say 'punitive damages'? If she wins her case for sexual harassment, a jury could make your company pay her half a million dollars in damages."

"She's gonna' kill me," Morrie said.  He looked up at the ceiling and threw his hands in the air.  "She's gonna' freakin' kill me."

"No," Jack said.  "But if we don't stop her, she'll sure as hell kill the deal with RKO.  Grace?"

There was really nothing more to say.

* * *

"I think we could both use a drink and some dinner," Jack said, pulling the convertible into a parking space at a seafood bar and grill. "Okay by you?"

"That's the first thing I've heard today that makes any sense." 

They got a tall table outside on the deck, overlooking the water.

The hell with first impressions, Grace thought, as she gave the waitress her order for a Margarita with extra salt.  Jack ordered a Mexican beer.

"First impressions?" Jack asked, and for a moment she thought he was echoing her thoughts, then realized that of course he was talking about the case. Grace leaned back on the high stool and crossed her legs.

"He isn't taking this seriously.  And he should."

"No argument there."  Jack said. 

Grace looked out over the water and watched a sailboat glide past, barely making a ripple in the calm water, its crisp white sails standing out in sharp relief against the blue sky.  She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax.  Jack hadn't seemed at all upset by Morrie Goldstein's apparent inability to understand that his conduct was putting a multi-million dollar merger in jeopardy.  If anything, he'd seemed amused.  Well, Grace wasn't amused.  If the deal between RKO and Shell-Morr fell apart over this sexual harassment case, Grace could kiss goodbye her chances of making partner at her law firm this year.  She turned back to Jack.

"Does Shelley realize she's going to ruin the chances of this merger going through?"

"I think Shelley knows exactly what she's doing."

"Doesn't she want the merger?  I mean, as 30% shareholder – thanks," Grace said, as the waitress set down her drink.

"Are you ready to order yet?" The waitress was a tall blonde in short shorts and a tight t-shirt stretched across her rather impressive breasts.  Grace gave Jack points for not staring.

"Could you come back in a few minutes?"

Grace took a long, cold sip and savored the sharp bite of the salt on her lips before continuing.

"Anyway, doesn't she realize how much money she stands to lose if RKO pulls out of the deal?"

"I doubt if that matters to Shelley.  She comes from four generations of citrus growers.  Her father owns a minor league baseball team –just a hobby – and there's an entire wing of a local museum that's named after her grandmother."

"Must have been some donation."

"Yep.  So the point is, Shelley doesn't have to worry about where her next dollar is coming from."

"Then she hired their son just to yank Morrie's chain?"

"Probably."  Jack shrugged.  "With Shelley, who knows?"

The waitress came back with another Margarita for Grace and a beer for Jack.

Grace looked down and saw that her glass was empty.  "Wait, I didn't order –"

"Two for one, honey," the waitress said.  "Are you ready to order?"

Grace gave quick glance at the menu, then settled for an old stand-by.

"I'll have the grouper sandwich."

"Make that two," Jack said, and handed his menu back.  The waitress winked at Jack, said "Right. Your usual. You got it, Jack," and sauntered away. 

"Come here often?" Grace asked, smiling.

"Once in a while.   They make a great grouper sandwich."

"I'll bet."  Grace slipped out of her jacket, letting it hang over the back of her bar stool. The warm, salty breeze felt surprisingly refreshing on her arms, and for awhile she and Jack just sat there in companionable silence. 

She was feeling relaxed enough that he caught her off-guard with his question.

"So what's a Florida girl doing in the City of Brotherly Love?" 

She raised her eyebrows and he smiled.  "Did you think I wasn't going to find out who my new co-counsel is?"

"I only got assigned to the case yesterday."

He shrugged.  "Power of the Internet."

Grace wondered what else he'd Googled about her.  Whether he already knew that the most significant lawsuit she'd ever been involved in in Florida had been not as a lawyer, but as a witness.  When she was fourteen years old.

She snapped her focus back to here and now.  "Do you want to talk about the case?"

"No."

"No?"

"No.  We'll have plenty of time to talk about the case tomorrow when we go over the files together," Jack said.

"Well, what then?"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Why Philadelphia?" She took another drink, letting the salt cling to her lips for a moment.   "I just fell in love with the city when I was college.  Stayed there for law school, too.  It's so different from Florida."

"And that's a good thing?"

"Definitely."

She paused as the waitress delivered their food, then sighed over her first bite of grouper sandwich. 

He grinned, and she thought, wow, if he flashes that smile in the courtroom, the female jurors must practically swoon. 

"Well, I guess Florida does have a few things going for it," she allowed, gesturing with the sandwich. She'd probably eaten hundreds of these with her dad when she was a kid, sitting at waterside cafes just like this one.  It was weird how the simplest memories were the ones that came back so clearly, long after someone was gone.

He laughed, and dug into his own meal.  "You can't get a decent grouper sandwich in Philly."

"True.  But you can't buy soft pretzels with mustard on every street corner anywhere else in the world." 

"You don't miss all this?" He gestured at the water, where the sun glistened on the waves slapping against the wooden dock, as two teenagers maneuvered a small boat out into the Bay.

"I've got the Jersey Shore."

"Definitely not the same," he said, and she shrugged.

"It's this, with an edge.  I like the boardwalk, Atlantic City."

"I wouldn't have figured you for a gambler."

"I'm not.  It's just a backdrop for me.  The energy, the fast pace."

"Oh, I don't know, Grace," he said, leaning in closer.  "There's something to be said for slow and easy."

Was he coming on to her?  She felt an odd little flutter. She started to feel flushed, and realized she was already well into her second margarita, and hadn't eaten since this morning. 

The silence drew out for a few moments.  She focused on her grouper and fries, hoping to counteract the effect both the alcohol and her co-counsel were having on her, until Jack spoke again.

"So, do you have any family around here?" 

Her father's death – and the lawsuit that followed - had been big news when it happened, but that was a long time ago.  If he hadn't Googled her past the first page, he'd probably seen nothing more than her own list of academic awards and some fairly high profile cases she'd worked on in Philly.  And, of course, the firm bio identifying her as a native-born Floridian. 

Oh well, might as well get it out there.

"My stepfather is Jimmy Marlin."  She took another long sip of her Margarita, and tensed for his response.  People either loved Jimmy or . . . didn't.  Really didn't. 

He gave her one of those slow grins that were becoming so distracting.  "Are you bragging or apologizing?"

She flushed.  "No, I'm just . . . never mind."

"Relax, Grace. I'm kidding."  He reached over and touched her hand and she pulled her arm back quickly, bumping her glass and almost spilling the Margarita.  She felt the color creeping up her neck as her drink sloshed back and forth in the glass.