Foreclosure: A Novel (17 page)

Lana remained frozen. Justin tugged at her elbow, and this time she had no choice but to move.

“You’ll be hearing from our attorneys,” Justin said as they departed.

“Hire a good one. Because I’m going to kick his ass. Then I’m coming after you.”

Lana peered back at David and wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

“I loved you,” he mouthed back.

As Justin led her past the hostess stand, she tucked her sobbing eyes into his arms. They exited the restaurant, and David turned to survey all the food they’d left behind.

David forgot Mitch was still standing nearby until the biker asked, “That go about how you expected?”

David didn’t answer. He stared at a blot of sangria on the tabletop that glistened like blood, and then he wondered if Mitch would like to take home the leftovers.

David entered the sales office toting a banker’s box of documents. Katherine nodded and threw him a suspicious grin as she tried to look busy at her desk.

“What’s with all the cars?” he asked.

She nodded toward the beach. “It’s that time of year. Snow birds, spring breakers.” She looked at the box in his hands. “What’s that?”

“Where’s Frank?” He plopped the box down next to her desk. “I need these affidavits signed.”

“He and Robbie were meeting with a contractor to discuss repairs to the gas line.”

He glanced around the office to confirm they were alone. “It’s been weeks since we served Meridian Bank, and he still hasn’t talked to me about the case.”

Katherine raised her brows. “Tarpon season is coming to an end.”

“Tarpon season?”

“If you want to catch Frank, go to the marina. That’s the only place I know you can find him.”

“I almost forgot. I saw your friend’s car outside.”

“And who would that be?” she asked.

“The guy with the whacked eye who drives the Acura. When are you going to tell me who he is?”

She reclined in her chair and crossed her legs. “When are you going to take me out on a date?”

“I thought you don’t mix business with pleasure.”

“I can change my mind.”

“I don’t think dating a client’s daughter is a good idea.”

“Then don’t think of me as his daughter.”

“What should I think of you as?”

She stood and took a few easy, teasing steps in his direction. Her eyes looked glassy again. “You’ll have to take me out to find out.”

Just then, his BlackBerry started chiming. He could tell from the number it was someone from the office. “I have to take this.”

“Visit anytime,” she moaned playfully as he stepped outside to answer.

“Hon, you’ve got a few fires to put out here.” It was Mirabel.

David shielded his eyes from the sun. “What kind of fires?”

“Alton fires. The Meridian Bank responses came in.”

“What does that have to do with Alton?”

“They were sent directly to him.”

“Shit, shit, shit!” He sighed. “Shit, Mirabel. What did they file?”

“The better question is what
didn’t
they file?”

David entered Alton’s office expecting to find him immersed in something routine like a phone call with a disgruntled client or researching the locale for his and Mackenzie’s next weekend getaway. Thus, he was surprised to see Alton, Terry, and Mackenzie huddled around the small conference table in the middle of Alton’s office, reviewing a mound of papers that David could only hope were not from Meridian Bank.

Mackenzie noticed David first. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Sit down,” Alton said as he spread a pile of pleadings across his desk. “Let’s start with this one. Who approved this filing?”

Alton was referencing the complaint David had filed against Meridian Bank. David glanced at Terry, whose averted gaze told David he was on his own, at least for now. David cleared his throat. “It’s a routine complaint.”

“Routine my ass,” Alton said. “You sued a bank who a month ago was going to be our client for a claim that probably won’t withstand a motion to dismiss.”

“We cleared the conflict, Alton, and it will withstand a motion to dismiss. We researched this carefully. Hell, Parker went to the hospital making sure it was good law. How is he, by the way?”

“I’d like to see that research,” Alton said.

“I’ll get it to you.”

Alton slid another document toward David. This one was a motion to dismiss. “And here they say that under these facts, a lender cannot be liable for tortious interference. Why wouldn’t a lender have a privilege to act to protect its interest?”

“Privilege is a defense that can’t be decided on a motion to dismiss,” David explained. Terry finally nodded some encouragement in David’s direction.

It was Mackenzie’s turn: “So you’re saying we’re going to lose, just not on a motion to dismiss?”

“What do you know about a motion to dismiss?” David said.

Alton wagged his finger. “Don’t talk to a partner that way.”

David lunged out of his seat. “Don’t talk to
me
that way.” He looked to Terry for some support, but Terry grabbed his arm, squeezed, and jerked him back into his seat.

“Cool it,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” David said. “I’m obviously passionate about this case.” He took a deep breath before addressing Alton. “I can get this to a jury. I can make this bank look so bad the jury will give me whatever they want.”

“And if you can’t?” Alton asked.

“Then the bank forecloses.”

“And we’re left paying the bill?” Mackenzie said.

“Why would
we
be liable for the fees?”

Alton pushed another paper toward David. “You obviously haven’t seen this one.”

“A motion for sanctions?” David skimmed the motion.

“It means if you lose, the firm is responsible for half the fees,” Mackenzie said.

David pushed it back across the table. “I know what a motion for sanctions means. But that’s only if the court finds the claim was frivolous.”

“Which again brings us back to whether you filed this in good faith.” Alton was studying David, the way a parole board member might study a lifer up for review.

“Of course I did. Are we pressing the boundaries here a little? Maybe. But I can win this case.”

“Who’s your judge?” Terry asked.

“Judge Leblanc,” David answered.

“She bends over backwards for banks,” Alton said. “And you know it.”

Terry nodded in reluctant agreement.

David shook his head. “She’s not going to bend over for this one. Not when I’m done with them.”

“And if you can’t do this?” Mackenzie asked.

David nodded. “I know I can.”

Terry spoke up. “You don’t have any doubt about that, David?”

David looked him right in the eyes. “No doubt.”

“Good,” Alton said. “Because if you lose and the firm is held liable, you’re paying the bill.” Alton slid another paper in front of David.

David skimmed the title. “An indemnification agreement?”

“If the firm is held liable for fees or costs in connection with this lawsuit, you agree to indemnify us.” Mackenzie turned to the signature page and pointed to the footer of the document. “I drafted it myself.”

David saw the letters HA-MAA-12367 on the footer. Due to a requirement of the firm’s malpractice carrier, all firm document footers began with the letters HA, followed by the initials of the person who’d drafted the document and the document identification numbers.

“Can I have a while to review this?”

“Sure,” Alton said, “take as long as you need. But, oh, don’t forget this one. This is the icing on the cake.” He handed one final document over for David’s review. “
La
pièce de résistance
: the
motion to disqualify.”

David would have complimented Alton for his French accent, but he felt something twisting in his stomach as he read the intro to the motion: “Meridian Bank of Miami, by its undersigned counsel, moves to disqualify David L. Friedman, Esq. and the law firm of Hollis & Alderman, P.A. as counsel for Pinnacle Homes & Investments, LLC.”

Mackenzie was really smirking now. “They say Justin divulged confidential information to you during your meeting, so you should be disqualified from suing the bank.”

David looked to Terry. “They can’t claim we represented the bank. We never made it that far.”

“Perhaps,” Alton said, “but it sure as hell makes us look bad.”

“Just what we need in this market, too,” Mackenzie added.

“
This
is frivolous,” David cried. “
We
should be serving a motion for sanctions.”

Alton raised his hands. “Easy now, David. Now, Terry’s agreed to attend the hearing with you. Personally, I think he should argue the motions. I have my concerns about whether you can be objective about this.”

“I can handle this hearing,” David insisted. “This is my client.”

“So be it,” Alton said. “And you will live or die by this client.”

David furtively let out a deep breath. If only Alton knew.

David parked alongside the Fort Gaspar Marina and its never-ending rows of fishing boats and yachts. The morning sun was beating down on his neck as he ran along the main dock, past dozens of schooners and empty slips. After what seemed a hundred years, he finally came to a Grady White, at least thirty feet long, with the words
Katherine Anne
penned in royal navy cursive letters on the stern.

Robbie glanced at David without paying him much attention. He was too busy throwing gear onto the deck, humming along with a sweaty brow and a cigarette burning between his lips.

Then Frank appeared, ascending from the cabin.

“I’ve called you five times,” David said. “This is important.”

Frank slid two white buckets across the deck. “Fishing’s important. Making money’s important. Dealing with you is not important.”

“Fifteen minutes, Frank. That’s all I need.”

Frank caught his breath. “Sorry, esquire, we’re already fifteen minutes late. We got about two weeks left to catch tarpon. I’m not going to waste it dealing with your bullshit.”

“I don’t think you understand how important this is,” David said. “If we lose this hearing, they’re going to take over the Towers.”

Frank glanced at Robbie, who was arranging gear on the bow. “Hear that, Robbie? The bank wants to take over Gaspar Towers.”

Robbie didn’t look up from whatever mess he was trying to straighten. “Over your dead body, Frank.”

Frank turned back to David. “You heard it, David. Over your dead body.”

This was the first time David had set foot in Judge Leblanc’s courtroom. He’d been in her chambers many times for routine hearings that never really mattered. Her courtroom was no different than the others in Gaspar County: stale, industrial, and cold. He’d already been sitting here for ten minutes, trying to get acclimated to the courtroom and clear his mind for the hearing, when the door behind him opened.

In walked Meridian Bank’s lawyer, Larry Chaska. His bio on the web impressed David. Ten years David’s senior, Chaska had graduated top of his class at Emory and made partner at a national firm in six years, only to start his own law firm the following year. He now looked about ten years older than the photo online. His hair was thinner and grayer, the skin around his neck looser. But he still had the pointed features that reminded David of a weasel.

“Friedman?” Chaska said.

David stood and shook his hand.

Chaska glanced around the courtroom like there might be a hidden microphone somewhere. “Nothing personal, what’s going down today. It’s just business.”

Before David could respond, Justin entered the courtroom. “Right, just business,” David said to Chaska. Justin glared in David’s direction, and David nodded back.

David and Chaska were still standing when Judge Leblanc’s bailiff called the court to order. The judge’s black robe whipped around the doorway, and she told them to be seated. She sat down, carrying a large coffee mug showing a photo of a happy chocolate lab. Then, she opened the file sitting in front of her. “Call the case, please.”

As David heard the clerk call the case, “Pinnacle Homes & Investments versus Meridian Bank of Miami,” he smiled like he was hearing the title of a symphony he had composed. And now he was ready to orchestrate the next verse. He stood and introduced himself for the record.

The judge nodded. “Good morning, Mr. Friedman.” Then she looked to Chaska. “Mr. Chaska, these are your motions. How do you wish to proceed?”

Chaska stood and thanked the judge. “As you know, Your Honor, we do have a motion to disqualify set for hearing today. Given our position that Mr. Friedman and his law firm may not appear adverse to the bank in any respect, we wish to begin with that motion.”

Judge Leblanc nodded. “Very well. Please proceed.”

Chaska glanced at David. “The defendant calls Mr. Justin Baxter.”

Justin stood and made his way to the witness stand, wearing a slim-tailored herringbone suit that somehow matched the pastel purples in his shirt and tie. David wondered whether Lana picked out his wardrobe now.

After the clerk swore Justin in, Chaska led him through the routine introductory questions. He then used Justin’s employment history to transition to the meatier questions. “And could you please explain to the court your relationship to the defendant’s law firm, Hollis & Alderman?”

Justin straightened his posture along with his tie. “I went to work for that law firm after graduating from UM in 2000.”

“And did there come a time when you no longer worked for that firm?” Chaska asked.

“Yes. I left employment there in December of 2007.”

Chaska checked his outline before continuing. “And what were the circumstances surrounding your termination?”

“I was told there wasn’t enough work in real estate finance at the time. They told me it was in my best interest to find a job in-house. They said they would love to work with me in the future.”

“Did you rely on that?” asked Chaska.

“I sure did.”

Bullshit
, David thought.
Like he had a choice
.

“And where did you go to work?”

“At Meridian Bank of Miami.”