Free In Her Shoes by Jennifer Weiner Page B

'paid in full.' Was that account paid?" "Yeah." "So you were paid for the work you did on the project?" Another nod. Another dirty look from his attorney. Another "yeah." For the next half-hour, Rose painstakingly led LeGros through a stack of stamped invoices and notices from a collection agency. It wasn't the stuff of Grisham thrillers, she thought as she slogged onward, but if she was lucky it would get the job done. "So the job in Ryland was completed, and you paid your subcontractors?" Rose summarized. "Yeah." "Except not Veeder." "They got theirs," he mumbled. "They got paid for other things." "Pardon me?" Rose asked politely. "Other things," LeGros repeated. He ducked his head. Spun his ring. "Things they owed other companies. Things they owed my dispatcher," he said, biting off each syllable. "Why don't you ask him about my dispatcher?" "I certainly will," Rose promised. "But right now, it's your deposition. It's your turn to tell your story." LeGros stared down again, at the ring, at his hands. "Tell me your dispatcher's name," she prodded gently. "Lori Kimmel," LeGros muttered. "And where does she live?" He stared down sullenly. "Same place I do. Fifth and Tasker." Rose felt her pulse spike. "She's your ..." "My lady friend," said LeGros, with a look on his face that said, Want to make something of it? "Ask him," he said, sticking a thumb toward Stanley Willet, "Ask him," he repeated. "He knows all about her." LeGros's lawyer laid a hand on his forearm, but LeGros would not be stopped. "Ask him about the overtime she worked! Ask him about how
     
     
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she never got paid! Ask him about how when she left the company, he said he'd pay her vacation and sick days, and never did!" "Could we take a break?" LeGros's attorney. Rose nodded. The court reporter raised her eyebrows. "Sure," said Rose. "Fifteen min utes." She ushered Willet into her office as LeGros and his attorney huddled in the hall. "What's this about?" Willet shrugged. "The name sounds familiar. I could make a few calls ..." Rose nodded toward her telephone. "Hit nine," she said. "I'll be back in a minute." She hurried to the bathroom. Depositions made her nervous, and being nervous made her have to pee, and . . . "Ms. Feller?" It was LeGros's attorney. "Can I speak to you for a minute?" He pulled her into the conference room. "Look," he said. "We'd like to settle." "What happened?" The lawyer shook his head. "You can probably fill in the blanks. His girlfriend used to work for your guy. As best I can tell, she left without giving notice and figured she was entitled to all of her vacation and sick pay. Veeder told her to forget about it, and I think that my guy figured he could just bill Veeder for what she said she was owed." "You didn't know that?" The lawyer shrugged. "I just got this case two weeks ago." "So he'll . . ." Rose let her voice trail off suggestively. "Pay it back. All of it." "Plus interest. This has gone on for three years," said Rose. LeGros's lawyer winced. "One year's interest," he said. "We'll write you a check right now." "Let me run it by my client," said Rose. "I'll recommend that he accept." Her heart was racing, her blood pounding in her veins. Victory! She felt like doing a dance. Instead she returned to Stan Willet, who was staring at her diplomas. "They want to settle," she said.
     
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"Good," he said, without turning toward her. Rose swallowed her disappointment. Of course he wasn't going to be as excited as she was. To him eight thousand dollars was pocket change. But still! She couldn't wait to tell Jim how well she'd done! She ran through the terms. "They're willing to write us a check today, which means you won't waste time chasing after the money. My recommendation is that we accept." "Fine," he said, his eyes still on the glass frames and Latin writing of her diplomas. "Write it up, send it over." Finally, he turned toward her. "Good stuff in there." He cracked a thin smile. "Bury