Wearing a weary smile, Celia shook her head. “Don’t worry. This just proves it isn’t about the company at all. It’s about me.”
She suddenly wished Arthur was here, sitting in the gallery, offering his support by his mere presence.
—You know I’m always with you, don’t you?—
Her heartbeat steadied, her breathing slowed. —Thank you.—
—Of course, my love.—
She settled into the witness stand and, hand on Bible, gave her oath in a confident voice.
She couldn’t imagine what questions they wanted to ask her. Her own guilty conscience offered up bizarre possibilities: Is it true you’ve neglected your daughters in favor of furthering your business? Can you tell us how you’ve lied about your recent medical diagnosis? Aren’t your efforts to win the planning committee contract more about stroking your own ego than benefiting the city? Well, she wouldn’t say more, regarding that one. The considerations were about equal. The rest, she would throw herself on the mercy of the court and hope for forgiveness.
The plaintiffs had hired an experienced trial lawyer, and it was this guy, a Marshal Jones, who questioned her, not McClosky. Alas.
“Ms. West, to what lengths would you go to ensure that West Corp wins this city development contract?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question.”
“You’ve researched your competition, of course. You know the other companies competing for this contract, you know their resources. I simply want to know if you’ve taken any actions beyond the usual due diligence.”
She thought she knew what he was asking, but he was really just feeding her rope, hoping she’d tie it around her own neck, so she played dumb. “I’m still not sure what you mean. Can you give me some examples?”
“Is it conceivable, in your opinion, that your extensive influence among city officials gives you an unfair advantage and handicaps your competition?”
“No,” she said. “I think filing a frivolous lawsuit is what attempting to handicap your competition looks like.”
The few observers in the courtroom tittered. The judge frowned, unamused. “Just answer the original question, Ms. West.”
“I have no control over my competition, and my competition has as much access to city officials as I do. I’m better off not worrying about them and focusing on my own efforts. So to answer your first question, I’d do everything I legally could to present a solid bid that benefits everyone so the city can’t possibly award the contract to anyone else. No need at all for the kind of gamesmanship you’re implying.”
“You—and West Corp—seem to have what one might call … what would one call it?” He turned to his colleagues as if he really was asking for advice and not playacting. “Obsession? With Commerce City and its development.”
She chuckled. This was making no sense, but that gave her all the more reason to squash this clown flat so no one would entertain the doubts he was trying to raise.
“Commerce City has been my family’s home for generations. West Corp is one of Commerce City’s oldest family businesses, and its dedication to making contributions to the city and its growth is well documented. I’m sorry that looks like obsession to you.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit disingenuous, Ms. West, to call a multimillion-dollar corporate entity a family business?”
“No. Not when it’s been helmed by a West for three generations. What else would you call it?”
“A grab for power, Ms. West. Outside of normal political channels. Corporate domineering.”
She smirked. “I haven’t gone into politics precisely because I’m trying to do some good in the world, Mr. Jones.”
That got a laugh, and Jones flushed, finally looking a tiny bit flustered.
“And it’s your definition of good that must prevail—”
She leaned forward. “I’m just trying to make a living, like everyone else.”
The judge interrupted. “Mr. Jones, I think you’re finished here. Counsel for the defense, do you have any follow-up questions for the witness?”
“No, Your Honor, I do not,” Bastion said.
“Ms. West, you may step down.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” she said politely and returned to her place. By Bastion’s pleased expression—looking a bit like a cat with a plate of fresh tuna—Celia assumed her responses had been acceptable. She had to work not to slouch in her chair, deflated. Her performance had about tapped her energy reserves. Maybe this wouldn’t take too much longer. She could go home, tell everyone she was sick, and sleep for the next two months.
It didn’t. The judge spoke: “In light of evidence and testimony presented, I find the suit brought against West Corp by Superior Construction to be baseless. Not just baseless but baseless in the extreme. I encourage counsel for West Corp to proceed with any countersuit it might have prepared, but this initial hearing is over. And to the plaintiff, I have a warning: My statement on this case will be strongly worded, so keep that in mind if you’re thinking of appealing, because I predict such an appeal will not go well for you. Case most definitely dismissed.” The gavel cracked. Celia sighed.
She gathered the energy to look over her shoulder at Danton Majors—and found him staring back at her, frowning. So he really was out to get her. Not West Corp, not the development contract, but her, and she wondered why. Why he wanted to, and why he thought he could. He’d failed, and here he was, Danton Majors, lying bloodied and defeated on the field of battle, never to recover. Nice image, but nothing that could ever happen in real life.
Her team was shaking hands, congratulating each other. Bastion crossed the aisle to shake hands with Jones, who complied but snarled as he did. Celia settled her purse strap over her shoulder and passed through to the gallery.
“Mr. Majors,” she said. “I look forward to seeing you when the planning committee reconvenes to make its vote on the development contract.”
“Yes, I imagine you do. Don’t get too confident, though.”
“Oh? You have a backup plan in case this little dog-and-pony show didn’t work?” She couldn’t keep a dig out of her voice.
“Ms. West, I really must be going. I’ve been away from Delta too long. But it’s been interesting meeting you.”
“I just bet it has.”
The rest of her law team returned to West Plaza in taxis. Celia lingered, killing some time, ensuring that Tom would have brought the girls home from school by the time she returned to the Plaza. The end of the lawsuit had lifted a weight off her. Cleared a large part of her mind of worry. She felt light. The planning committee’s development contract would take care of itself now, and so would the chemo treatments for that matter.
She took a walk, just a short one, and stopped at a coffee shop near City Hall to indulge and bleed off some anxiety. Enjoy the brief moment of respite in the day. She could stand on the street and watch people go by, and didn’t that sound lovely?
She was so rarely alone. At the Plaza she was surrounded by her West Corp employees or her family. She didn’t often go into the city unless it was to some event or to meet with officials, colleagues, friends. Tom or another driver ferried her back and forth. Arthur was almost always nearby. It wasn’t like the old days, when she lived alone and rode the bus alone and walked alone, and thereby inadvertently created opportunities for those who would harm her. Over the last twenty years, she’d insulated herself with layers of people who watched out for her, and she hadn’t meant to do it any more than she had meant to isolate herself during those rough years in her early twenties. It had been a consequence of the life she’d led. Now, the consequence of having a family, of having a stake in her company and her city, meant she was protected. She’d never looked at it that way before. Not until the protection was gone.