Anything You Can Do(72)
This was the explanation he'd been looking for. Bailey had been trying to withdraw from the case, not pursue it. Her ethics were as beautiful as the rest of her. He clutched the piece of paper exultantly, barely able to restrain himself from tossing it into the air, from shouting to the heavens, from dashing out, grabbing the first person he saw, and forcing him to view this incredible document, prepared by the woman he loved.
He snatched up the phone, eager to share his joy with Bailey, then replaced it just as quickly. She'd only hang up on him again, and he couldn't blame her. As rude as he'd been, she'd probably never forgive him.
With a heavy sigh, he reached for the phone again.
Might as well start crawling. Somehow, whatever it took, he had to make things right with Bailey.
*~*~*
Bailey's fingers drummed her desktop. She was still seething from Austin's condescending phone call at noon. Slamming the receiver in his ear had done little to decimate her anger. In fact, that latest addition had been like gasoline to the smoldering coals of her fire.
The more she thought about it, the hotter she became until flames finally erupted.
She shoved her chair back from her desk, crashing into the credenza behind her, and charged down the hallway to Stafford Morris' office.
Paula looked up as she approached, then stood and reached for her arm, but Bailey was in no mood to be detained.
"What's wrong?" Paula demanded.
Bailey shook off her hand and pushed into Stafford's office without even knocking.
"Come in, Bailey," he said, raising his eyes from the papers on his desk. "Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable. "
Bailey tried to slam the door, but the obstinate thing closed slowly and quietly.
"I want to talk to you."
"By all means. Sit down."
"No!" She wanted to be able to tower over him. "I have three points to cover. Number one, representing that woman is wrong. I don't know why you're so insistent on doing it, but it's wrong. I refuse to be a party to it."
Stafford raised the hand clutching his cigar and started to open his mouth, but Bailey interrupted him. "I'm not through. Number two, you treat Paula despicably. She's my best friend. She's been there for all my important events, and she should be there to see me made partner. But that's really beside the point. The point is, being a secretary doesn't make her another species. She's entitled to the same things we are. And that's not all," she declared as Stafford again started to speak. "Number three, this firm makes good money. We're not striving to make payroll, yet our accounting department tells me that our entire support staff is living barely above the poverty level. If you can't see the gross injustice of that, at least consider where you'd be without them."
The door flew open again, and Paula burst into the room. "Bailey, what on earth do you think you're doing?" she demanded, closing the door behind her and standing in front of it. "Please tell me this isn't because of what I said last night. I never intended—"
"I'm expressing my opinions, that's what I'm doing," Bailey interrupted. "Standing up for what's right. This is supposed to be an office of law, of justice and equity, and I haven't seen much of that lately."
"So you come in here and make a big scene. What's that supposed to accomplish?" Paula made a move to take Bailey's arm.
Bailey sidestepped her. "At least I'm doing something. You hate this job, but you stay and take it."
"Until I get something better," Paula agreed. "In the meantime, I start night school next month, so I don't need you taking me on as a cause."
"Something better?" Stafford roared. "You're planning to leave? You can't do that. I need you."
"She can and she will," Bailey declared. "And I will, too, right now! You can take your stupid partnership and blow it out your ear. I don't care to be associated with partners who have no ethics!" She started for the door, motioning Paula out of the way, then, on a sudden urge, turned back.
Stafford had just retrieved his cigar from the crystal ashtray and was moving it toward his mouth. Bailey snatched it from his grasp, crushed out the fire in the ashtray, then smashed the remaining three inches in the middle of Stafford's desk.
"Good-bye," she said, smiling and feeling satisfied for the first time in a while. "I'm going home."