“Oh please. The plaintiffs weren’t credible because they didn’t say anything.”
“They didn’t have to. They dressed the part and they acted the part. They scored without saying a word, and Machiavelli looked awesome, too. Respectable. Believable, responsible—”
“He’s style, and we’re substance. We always have been.”
“Please, listen to me, I’m right.” Anne took a step closer, her expression pleading. “This isn’t an argument in court, it’s a press conference, where the visual matters as much as the content. These reporters are going to take pictures of you, print them, and publish them. The photos of your press conference are going to be shown next to Machiavelli’s—”
“We don’t have time to argue this. We didn’t get where we are on our looks.”
Listening, Mary thought Anne was making sense. Why turn down a free makeover? Besides, one of the dresses was super cute, especially for maternity clothes. It was a navy-linen shift with a boatneck, in which she would look nautical but not like a battleship. But she would take a pass on the lip plumpers. Everything on her was plump enough.
Mary said, “Bennie, I think Anne might be onto something. It’s like Who Wore It Better, for lawyers.”
“But we look fine, don’t we?” Bennie strode to the mirror, and Mary could tell that even she wasn’t completely happy with her reflection. Bennie’s blonde hair had curled in the humidity, so tendrils coiled out of her topknot like broken springs. Her khaki suit was as wrinkled as a Venetian blind, and Mary was pretty sure she hadn’t shaved her legs recently, but that was unsayable.
“Sorry, but I agree with Bennie,” Judy said, sitting at the table with her mouth full of cheese hoagie. “We are what we are. That is The Way of the Tao.”
Mary looked over. “Did you really want to be a Buddhist nun?”
“Yes.”
“How did I not know that?”
“Because people are eternally unknowable.”
“More Lao-Tzu?”
“No, my mother.” Judy shrugged, chewing away. “Anyway we don’t need to get all dressed up. Everybody already knows what we look like. We look like ourselves. I’m a case in point.”
Mary hid her smile while Bennie, Anne, and John took in Judy’s outfit, one of her wackiest ever. In fact, if Judy had a stylist, it would be spin art. She wore a banana-yellow T-shirt that said YOU SAY YOU WANT A WEAVOLUTION, which she had on with throwback painter’s pants and vegan clogs, in green. Her pink hair stuck out like a fuzzy tennis ball, and from one earlobe hung a gray feather, which Mary hoped was a new earring and not from a passing pigeon.
Anne folded her arms. “Well, ladies? What’s the verdict?”
“I vote yes,” Mary answered.
“I vote no,” Judy answered.
Bennie glanced sideways at Anne. “Only if you do it while we work. And no lip plumpers.”
CHAPTER SIX
The press conference was about to start, and Bennie, Mary, Judy, Anne, and John settled on one side of the conference table, while reporters took seats on the other side of the table, spilling outside the room and opening notebooks, thumbing through cell phones, and taking pictures with their cell phones, cameras, and video cameras. Mary faced the throng with renewed self-confidence, since she had managed to keep her soup-and-crackers down and there was nothing like new clothes to boost a girl’s mood. She had on a shiny pair of low-heeled black pumps, a fresh pair of contacts, and more makeup than most hookers, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
She glanced over at Bennie, who looked beautiful with only light makeup emphasizing her bright blue eyes and a bronzer on her lovely cheekbones. Her crazy curls had been flat-ironed into a classic French twist, and for the first time ever, she wore a suit that wasn’t a Brooks Brothers khaki. Anne had talked her into a well-tailored red suit because it was a bold color, which made it butch enough for Bennie to feel in charge.
Sitting next to Mary was Judy, in a faux-Chanel suit of pinkish tweed, which looked fashion-forward with her magenta hair and edgy makeup. None of the reporters seemed to notice that she still had on her vegan clogs, since she refused to wear any of the new shoes because they were leather. Anne sat next to her, undoubtedly thrilled to be finished styling her colleagues while they studied documents, argued over case strategy, and rehearsed the press conference. John sat at the end of the line, holding his head high, which Mary knew was an act. He was still embarrassed that he had been mentioned in the Complaint, and most of the rehearsal was directed at him, since he would have to take questions about what he’d said during the job interview.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bennie began, with a newly glossy smile. She had on nude lip gloss, since she wouldn’t agree to actual lipstick, much less lipliner. “Thank you for coming. You know me and my partners well enough to know that we rarely speak to the press. We simply don’t try our cases in the media. But at the same time, we felt compelled to respond not only to the allegations raised in this meritless Complaint, but also to the entirely erroneous statements about us personally, made by opposing counsel Nick Machiavelli at his press conference today.”
The reporters scribbled away, the photographers took pictures, and somebody in the back raised his hand. “Will you take questions later?”
“Of course, briefly.” Bennie smiled again, as if she didn’t mind being interrupted, which Mary knew she hated. In any event, they had already decided that they would take questions, anticipated what they would be asked, and developed answers for each one. “As you already know, Nick Machiavelli has today filed a complaint with the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission on behalf of three individual plaintiffs, suing me and my partners personally under the Pennsylvania Human Relations Act, alleging that we failed to hire the three individuals because they were male. I’m not going to discuss the specifics of the allegations and I’m speaking for my partners today, Mary DiNunzio and Judy Carrier.” Bennie gestured to Judy and Mary, who nodded, but stayed quiet, according to plan. “We wanted to go on record to make clear that we deny these allegations, that they’re completely untrue, and that we will prove as much before the Commission, and if need be, in the Court of Common Pleas. However, a categorical denial is not the reason we invited you to our offices today.”
Mary’s face twitched under her makeup. She knew what Bennie was going to say next because they had decided upon it together, but it was tough and aggressive. Judy had agreed even though it was against her religion, and Mary had gone along with it, too. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t nervous. She sent up a prayer to St. Jude, Patron Saint of Lost Causes, and tried not to see that as symbolic.
Bennie tilted her chin upward. “What we want you to understand is that this litigation against us was filed in bad faith. It’s not a lawsuit, it’s a smear campaign. Behind the smear campaign is not these three individual plaintiffs. The person behind the smear campaign is Nick Machiavelli, and we have ample reason to believe that he manufactured this case.” She paused when the reporters reacted with surprise and interest, obviously anticipating something juicy. “You may be wondering why he would do such a thing. The answer is, for personal revenge because we defeated him in a previous case—and for other personal reasons we will not detail today. But as he said, there’ll be plenty of twists and turns as this litigation goes on, so stay tuned.”