Part 31 (1/2)
”Oops, forgot you hate onion on Nova,” he said. ”Little hick. I'll take yours.” He plucked off the onion and placed the extra slice on his own bagel tower. ”It's not like you're going to kiss me-though you should.”
Magnolia glanced pointedly at the photo of Whitney and the twins.
”I deserve a kiss-I've been a champ,” he added. He poured them each a large cup of coffee from a silver Georg Jensen pot.
”How's that, Wally?” Magnolia asked.
”Let me first tell you that your old company's legal department should stick to copyrights and libel. What is it you call your com pany?” Wally asked. ”Scary?”
”Very,” she said.
”Okay. Scary failed to consider, when they switched you to deputy editor and then corporate editor, that the term of your contract for editor in chief was still in effect,” he began. ”They screwed up royally with that one.”
”Goody,” she said. ”So, we have a case?”
”Patience, darling. It gets better,” he said. ”Turns out your other lawyer wasn't such a putz after all. There was a clause in your contract stipulating that in order for Scary to change your t.i.tle, they needed your written consent.”
”Really?” Magnolia asked. ”Which, obviously, they didn't get. Don't you love it? G.o.d is in the details.”
”So, is that our case?”
”Magnolia, you'd think you were paying me by the hour. That's just the beginning of our case. No check to cash just yet.”
Her smile vanished.
”Scary isn't talking big enough numbers.” He quoted her a figure.
”That's almost my salary for the rest of the year, Wally,” she said, s.h.i.+fting to panic. ”Can't you just say yes, and stop the games?”
”They said take it or leave it, so I said shove it,” he said. ”Chump change.”
Why did I ever get involved with Wally? Magnolia asked herself.
Why? Was this what the psychic meant about not repeating mistakes?
She rubbed her temples.
”Stop stressing, Mags. Believe in Wally, who is pulling another card out of his pretty little deck.”
”And that would be?” Magnolia said.
”A little gem called quid pro quo s.e.xual hara.s.sment.” Wally's face lit up as if someone had offered him a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b. ”So, if you don't mind, I'm going to turn on my tape recorder and ask you a few questions.”
Magnolia suddenly felt dirty. She'd rather a.n.a.lyze her s.e.x life with her own father than do a play-by-play with Wally. But there he was, wired and ready.
”Did Jock Flanagan make s.e.xual advances or requests to you, or otherwise engage in conduct of a s.e.xual nature?” he began. At least his tone was quiet and professional.
Magnolia nodded yes.
”Speak up, please, Magnolia.”
”Yes, he did,” she said. ”Jock Flanagan did make s.e.xual advances to me.”
He nodded yes and smiled. ”Was the s.e.xual conduct welcomed by you?” he asked.
”What do you think?” she said, looking at him as if he had the IQ of a matzo ball.
”Magnolia, a simple yes or no?” ”No,” she said, recalling Jock's paw on her leg, his fingers running up and down her thigh.
”Did you reject his advances?”
”Yes!” Magnolia was surprised by the steel in her voice. ”Of course.”
”And after that incident were the terms or conditions of your employment adversely affected?”
”After that I was moved from being deputy editor to corporate edi tor, and soon after that I was fired.” It wasn't cancer. It wasn't even a broken arm or a cla.s.sic broken heart. She hesitated but said, ”I call that 'adverse,' yes.”
Wally turned off his tape recorder. ”Was that so bad?” he said.
”We've had worse conversations over what color white to paint the living room.”
Magnolia remembered and laughed. ”You and Whitney agree on all that?”
”I pick my battles, doll,” he said. ”Marriage-who ever thought that one up?” He began to tidy his desk. Magnolia considered that perhaps she should leave, but then Wally started talking. ”By the way, were you surprised by the lawsuit?”
Magnolia had rushed out without reading the paper or listening to any morning television. What new national or international scandal didn't she know about? Her face registered empty. Lately, she'd been focusing so much on celebrity journalism-if that wasn't an oxymoron-that The New York Times kept piling up unread. ”Oh, you didn't hear?” Wally said matter-of-factly. He broke into a grin. ”That's right. I forgot. You couldn't have heard. n.o.body knows yet.” He paused for dramatic effect. ”Scary's suing Bebe Blake. For breach of contract. You heard it here first. The story's going to break in an hour or two.”
”Who told you this?”
”A friend handling the case,” he said. ”Yes, ma'am. Scary's suing for damages, punitive and actual. Three hundred big ones.”
”Three hundred thousand dollars?”
”Oh, you are an innocent. Million, honey. Million. Claims your Bebe Blake breached her contract. Behaved erratically. That true?” It was Magnolia's turn to laugh. ”Honestly, Wally, Bebe defines 'erratic.' One day she sends you the best birthday gift you ever received, and the next day you're afraid she might steal your dog.”
”So, did you see it coming?”
”Wally, if you're asking me if I'm surprised that Scary would sue, no. It's Jock, down to his boxers. Ego the size of Alaska.”
”Guess that means you're rooting for Bebe?”
Magnolia spoke very, very slowly. ”Wally, honey. If Scary has money to throw around on vanity lawsuits, I'm rooting for me. Pull out every card in that pretty little deck of yours. Go get Magnolia a nice, six-figure check.”
He smiled. ”Now you're talking.”
”This is for you, Wally,” she said, ignoring his onion breath and kissing him on the lips. ”Get lucky. Get very lucky.”