Black Oil, Red Blood - By Diane Castle Page 0,36

could see the muscles in his jaw clench as he considered how to answer.

“The truth,” I pressed. “I do not think it is possible to make it more clear that I am not interested in, nor will I fall for any more posturing, any more seduction, anything that is any part of your act and the hollow façade that is you, at all, anymore. Ever. So what is it? What’s the truth?”

Dorian drew a long breath. The waiter arrived with our drinks. Seeing the almost tangible tension between us, he set them on the table without a word. I downed half my martini in one swallow as I waited.

Dorian cleared his throat. “Well,” he said. “Since you put it that way.”

I sensed that I had somehow hurt him. Somehow wounded his pride by doubting his sincerity, by failing to welcome him back into my life with even a grudging appreciation for the love we had once shared.

I did doubt his sincerity after all, didn’t I? There was no chance that he could possibly be for real. If he had been for real, he would have come after me long before now. Right. Right?

“I suppose I’m here,” Dorian said slowly, “because in a week there will be a motion for summary judgment, which you will not win.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said.

“I am not here alone,” Dorian said. “I came down with six junior associates and an unlimited, blank-check bankroll, which your puny three-person firm cannot possibly hope to compete with.”

“You’ve always underestimated me,” I said.

“This is not about you, Chloe. This thing is so much bigger than you it’s beyond your comprehension. Even if, by some miracle, you manage to win at summary judgment, my client has enough money and enough power to drag this thing out so long Armageddon will happen sooner than you’ll get to trial. I represent a client who has all but bankrupted the FTC, who has forced the government to drop cases after 20 years of trying for sheer lack of resources and staying power. The government, Chloe. Do you think you’re bigger, badder, and tougher than Uncle Sam? Your boss might pass for wealthy down here, but he cannot stand up to the sheer size of what I am threatening, and neither can you. You and your boss and your perky little paralegal are only three people. We are Big Oil, the very foundation of these United States.”

I downed the rest of my martini and gathered my courage. “Nice try,” I said. “You ought to know by now that your jury voice doesn’t work on me.”

The thing is, it did, kind of. If I had been wearing boots, I’d be shaking in them.

“I’m going to say this once,” Dorian said. “And only once. The offer is off the table as of six p.m. tonight, so I suggest you run it by your client.”

“Spit it out,” I said.

“Three hundred thousand.”

I laughed, almost genuinely. “You didn’t have to come all the way down here to insult me like that. A man died. Two men, actually, a fact about which I think you are acutely aware, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. The case is worth at least a million, and you know it.”

“Do I?” he asked. “Because from where I sit, your expert is dead, your case files are destroyed, and you only have a week to prepare for a new hearing. In other words, you haven’t got a prayer.” He paused. “Unless you’re aware of something I’m not?”

Little alarm bells went off in my head. Was it possible that Dorian was even more evil than I had previously imagined? Or was it that he was involved in something bigger than even he thought was possible?

I leaned forward and searched his eyes. All I saw was the same old Dorian, whoever that was. “You’re asking me if I have a bargaining chip?”

“I’m asking you what your leverage for a counter offer might be. I’m asking you why in the world you wouldn’t take three-hundred and run.”

I had to be careful here. If I let on that perhaps I knew something he didn’t—something big enough to warrant a larger counter-offer—and that information got back to the people who had killed Schaeffer, things could get ugly for me. On the other hand, if I let on like I had no case, Dorian was liable to take the entire offer off the table altogether. After all, there was nothing in writing yet.

“I’m not authorized to take offers or make counters

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