“Maybe they did.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Did anyone ever tell you these bonuses were in exchange for sex?”
“Not in those words exactly. But it was definitely implied.”
“How was it implied?”
“One day Alan just stopped attending receptions. He cut off all communications with me. I tried to call him and text him, but it was like he dropped off the face of the earth, only he didn’t because he was still CEO of West to East Communications. I could see him on the news, and he was still a Zurtech client.” She looked down at her hands. “To this day I don’t know what happened. What I did.” The eyes that lifted to his were tear-filled.
“Maybe you didn’t do anything,” Joseph said, pushing a box of tissues across his desk. “Maybe his wife found out.”
“Maybe.” She plucked a tissue from the box and dabbed her eyes. “This is ridiculous—I don’t even care anymore. I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“Take your time,” Joseph said. “I know this isn’t easy.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him, meeting his eyes. “I’m fine. What was your last question?”
“How was it implied that you were receiving bonus money in exchange for sex?”
“After Alan cut off all contact with me, my bonuses stopped. I was very upset at the time because I’d gotten accustomed to making a certain amount of money, and then my pay was practically cut in half.”
“So you confronted your boss?” he asked when she didn’t immediately continue.
“Yes. I went to my boss to find out why my bonuses had disappeared when my quality of work was exactly the same.”
“Who was your boss?”
“Stan Hall, the VP of Marketing. He’s everyone’s boss.”
“And what did he say?” Again he prompted when she paused.
“He told me to get over Alan and start spending time with other elite clients.” She gave a forced laugh. “I was shocked. I didn’t know what to say. When I got over the initial shock, I reminded him I was still attending receptions and mingling with the VIPs, and I didn’t understand why he was bringing up Alan. And then he looked me in the eyes and said bonuses were based on the level of satisfaction we were providing the customers.”
“And that was it?”
“No. He said if I wanted to start receiving bonuses again I’d have to start giving other clients the same level of attention I gave Alan.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“And then what happened?”
She met his eyes. “Then I began to receive bonuses again.”
“Did you get into another long-term relationship?”
She shook her head as her eyes dropped to her hands. “No. I was with a lot of different men. The bonuses were based on the revenues associated with the client,” she continued, her voice light. “I made a lot of money.”
Joseph came to his feet and slowly walked around the desk before lowering himself into the chair beside hers. “How much?”
She took a deep breath and seemed to struggle to maintain her composure. “About a hundred fifty thousand dollars over the next eighteen months.”
“Does that include your salary?” He held out the box of tissues.
She again took a tissue and began to dab at her eyes. “No. I was making an additional forty-five thousand dollars a year in salary.”
“You were making over a hundred thousand a year in bonuses.”
“Yes.”
“Why did your bonus pay more than double after West? You said everything was tied in to revenue. He had to be one of Zurtech’s largest clients.”
She dropped her gaze back to her hands. “This is hard.”
“I know and I’m sorry, but I have to ask these questions.”
“I understand.” She sighed. “It’s very embarrassing, especially telling a man.”
“Don’t think of me as a man. Think of me as your attorney.”
She laughed in response. “That may be difficult.”
He returned to his earlier question. “Why the increases in bonus pay?”
“The bonus system wasn’t complicated. It was linked to the revenue generated, but it also tied in to the number of clients and the category of the act you performed.”
His eyes narrowed. “Elaborate on ‘category of act performed.’”
She shrugged. “Just like professionals, I guess. When I was with Alan I was paid at a rate for a single client. Like you said, he was a large client, so his rate was between three thousand and four thousand a month depending on the quarter. Most paid less than that, but…” She trailed off.
“I’ve heard everything, Claudia. You’re not going to shock me.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m some type of slut or something.”
“I think you’re a beautiful young woman who got caught up in something not of her own making. Tell me the rest.”
She met his eyes for a long moment before finally speaking. “The percentages were increased if you participated in group sex and stuff like that,” she said. “I mean, I didn’t do it all the time, but the bonuses were very good.”
“What is ‘stuff like that’?”
“Sex with two clients, or two clients and another B2B, or two B2Bs and a client.” She continued to meet his eyes. “You must think I’m awful.”
His face remained expressionless. “No, I think your boss is awful. And this was all taking place at this Zurtech House?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“And how did you know the different rates?”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult. You figured it out based on your pay.”
“No one ever told you straight out how much you would receive for the different acts?”
“No. But before a party, we would receive an email listing the clients attending and the amount they were worth to the company. This was basically your invitation. Once you realized the percentages, it was easy to figure how much you could make with the different clients.”
“Who generated this email?”
“I assume Stan Hall. It came from a generic address. I have copies of the emails with me.” She reached for her briefcase. “Would you like to see them?”
“Yes, I would like to see them.”
She opened the briefcase and extracted a manila legal-sized envelope. Written in black ink in the middle of the envelope were the words “client rosters.” She undid the string binding the packet and removed a stack of paper, separated in groups of two by a single staple in the left-hand corner, and held them out to him.
His eyes quickly scanned the sheets. The first page was an email from Zurtech – bulletin board to B2B Marketing Division with four columns listing client names, company, last quarter revenue, and expected next-quarter revenue.
The second page was an email from Claudia Kelly to Zurtech – bulletin board, written in memo form, with a subject line titled Client Interactions. The memo clearly outlined the “meetings” she’d attended over what looked to be a one-week period. Sometimes she’d list one client, sometimes two, sometimes several, and there were also numerous occasions where other female names appeared. “Would you explain what this second page means?”
“It’s actually quite simple. If I was with one client, their name appears alone. Where you see two names, I was with two, and when you see other girls’ names, it was more of a group thing.”
“Why did you keep copies of the emails?”
“I wanted to make sure my bonuses were correct.”
“And were they?”
“Yes. There was never a mistake.”
“Okay.” He paused for a moment, staring at the sheets in front of him. “Do you know who you were sending your emails to?”
“I assume Stan Hall.”
“You never saw a list of prices or percentages or anything that mentioned sex?”
Again she shook her head. “No.”
“What about the other women? You
must have talked among yourselves.”
“Not really. It was company policy that we weren’t allowed to discuss our bonuses. And the whole atmosphere surrounding us created this sense of competition.”
“There were no men in this division?”
“Unless you include Stan Hall,” she said, “but he’s the head of all marketing, so he’s technically in every division.”
“And how many women? At any given time, how many B2Bs are in the division?”
She bit her lower lip as she looked up. “It varies, but probably twenty.”
He covered his mouth and began to rub his hand over his chin. “It’s hard to believe every woman they recruit would participate. Some of them must have husbands or boyfriends.”
“They never have husbands,” Claudia said. “Not when they start anyway. And most women don’t participate. They are usually fired or transferred out within the first three months.”
“And new women are brought in?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Most people don’t know what’s going on.”
“But what about these parties you attended? Isn’t that where you were having sex?”
“Yes, but that would only happen in certain areas. The people involved knew where to go.”
“Including the clients?”
“Some. They were kind of like us. Some of them knew exactly what was going on and others had no clue.”
“Any particular reason you left?” He smiled when she made an incredulous face. “I mean other than the obvious?”
“I don’t know. I guess I got tired of it all. I think hiring Lia Merrick was the beginning of the end for me. I mean, up until that point they’d never hired a single mother—and I felt sorry for her when she started dating one of the clients. I felt like I should warn her and I tried, but I guess not hard enough. She was so hurt. I still feel awful about it. I don’t want to be any part of it anymore.”
“When you quit, did they offer you a payoff of any type?”
“No.”
“Do you have anything else for me in your briefcase?” He stood and placed the pile of emails onto his desk.
“No. I think I’ve given you everything I have.”
“What exactly are you looking for us to do for you?”
“I don’t know. Make them pay somehow. I feel like I’ve lost my innocence. That should be worth something.”
He turned off the digital recorder. “I’m not sure what I can do for you, Claudia.” He leaned back against his desk, folding his arms across his chest as he faced her. “I think what Zurtech is doing is unethical and illegal, but proving that…” He shrugged. “That’s going to be a challenge, and to be honest with you, I’m not sure how much sympathy a jury will have for you. If you had come forward once you realized what was happening, that would be different. But you were knowingly involved for three years.”
“What are you saying?” she asked, her face crestfallen. “That I’m not going to get anything after what they did to me?”
“Probably not.”
“But you’re going to try? I mean, Lia wants to go to the police, but I don’t see what that would accomplish. We wouldn’t get anything.”
“Don’t go to the police. That would be a mistake. There isn’t enough here to get an indictment, and the chances of proving anything would evaporate quickly if they knew they were being investigated. And in your case, I think you’re in a very vulnerable position. If you went to the police they’d probably offer you immunity from prosecution in exchange for your testimony.”
“What? I don’t understand.”
“Having sex in exchange for money is a crime. In my opinion, it’s highly unlikely they’d come after you, but it’s possible.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God, I never even considered that.”
“Well, I’m an attorney. It’s my job to consider everything. My advice to you is to put this all behind you and go on with your life.”
She shook her head, an incredulous look on her face. “So what you’re saying is they’re going to get away with this? What they did to countless women?”
He shook his head. “No. They’re not going to get away with anything. They’ll eventually be exposed. What I’m saying is you should be as far removed from them as possible when that happens or you may be looking for a criminal attorney.”
“Oh—God.” She leaned back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling. “This isn’t at all what I expected.”
“I’m sorry.”
She brought her head forward and slowly came to her feet. “I guess that’s it then.” She reached for her briefcase.
He pushed off the desk and crossed the room to the coat rack. “I wish I could have told you what you wanted to hear.” She followed him to the front of the office and he helped her into her coat. “Oh, and one more thing,” he said, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Don’t share this information with anyone—for your own protection, you need to keep quiet.”
Joseph’s Mercedes skidded to a halt at the curb in front of a parking meter at 10:55 the following morning. He only had five minutes to spare before his meeting with the second woman involved in the Zurtech case.
He sifted through the change in the small area in front of the gearshift, but only came up with one quarter. He cursed aloud as he tossed it back. He opened the door and climbed out of the low-slung sports car, grabbing his briefcase from behind the driver’s seat before jogging towards the building.
“Good morning, Mr. Craig,” an elderly black man said, looking up from his desk when Joseph came through the glass door.
“Wilmer?” Joseph walked past the bank of elevators and straight to the man’s desk. “Has a woman been here looking for me?”
“No, sir.” He shook his head.
“Thanks.” He turned, but after a brief hesitation he was reaching inside his suit jacket and turning back to Wilmer. “Merry Christmas,” he said moments later, handing him a hundred-dollar bill.
The older man looked up at him, his eyes wide. “Mr. Craig, your office already gave me money.”
“I know, but I wanted to too.”
Lia parked her Honda behind a black Mercedes. She allowed herself a quick glance, and for once didn’t fantasize about owning the nicer car. No, this time she dreamt of being able to afford it, because if she could afford it she could pay off her mounting debt.
“Are we here?” Taylor asked from the back seat.
“Yes, we’re here.” She looked at her reflection in the rearview mirror as she applied a fresh coat of lipstick.
“May I have some?” Taylor crawled up between the seats.
“Not right now, Taylor. I’m late for my meeting.”
“But, Mommy, you’re putting it on.” She cocked her head to the side.
Lia turned to Taylor and quickly ran the applicator over her lips. “Now remember, you have to be very quiet. We’re going into a law office, and—”
“I know. I know,” Taylor said, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
“Come on. We’re late.” She got out of the car and waited for Taylor to do the same before picking up her briefcase and locking the door. She glanced at the meter, wondering if Sunday was a holiday. Deciding she couldn’t afford the luxury of finding out, she stopped next to the meter, digging in her wallet for quarters.
“Let me put them in.” Taylor tried to take the quarters from Lia’s hand.
“You can do one.” Lia handed her a single quarter before glancing at her watch. It was 11:15 a.m. Since learning her mother wasn’t available to watch Taylor, she’d gone back and forth on whether or not to even show up today. By the time she’d decided she should, she barely managed to get the two of them ready and out of the house.
“I’m cold,” Taylor said.
Lia slipped the remaining quarters into the meter. “Where’s your hat?” She walked back towards the car. “Stay right there.” She opened the car door and reached into the back seat and grabbed a colorful
knit hat. “Here you go.” She pulled it down over Taylor’s head.
“What about my gloves?” Taylor asked as they walked towards the office building.
“You don’t need them, it’s just a short walk.” She picked up their pace, feeling cold herself as the wind swirled around them. It was in the midthirties, but the wind chill made it feel at least twenty degrees colder, and by the time they reached the building, she felt half-frozen. “Here we are.” She opened a glass door and ushered Taylor inside.
“May I help you, Miss?”
Her gaze swung to two men near a bank of elevators approximately thirty feet away. One she assumed was the owner of the voice, an elderly black man wearing a dark uniform, and the other—her eyes met and locked with the eyes of the other. He was the man she’d seen on Anderson Cooper a couple of months prior. “I—I’m here to see an attorney at Prossi, Stuart and Craig,” she said, hesitating just inside the door.
“Ms. Merrick?” The man from Anderson Cooper didn’t take his eyes from hers as he closed the short distance between them.
“Yes,” she said, unable to drop his gaze.
“I’m Joseph Craig.” He held out his hand.
“You are?” Her eyes opened wider as she slipped her hand into his. He was extraordinary. The television didn’t capture his full essence. She felt her mouth grow dry as she continued to look into his eyes.
He narrowed his gaze. “Have we met?”
“Yes.” Lia shook her head. “I mean no. I saw you on CNN a few months ago.”
“You were there?” He was still holding her hand.
“No.” She smiled. “On television.”
He continued to meet her eyes. “Why don’t we go up to my office?” he said, finally releasing her hand.
“Oh, Taylor.” She suddenly remembered Taylor, who was silently standing beside them. “I couldn’t find a sitter so I had to bring my daughter. I tried to call to reschedule, but there was just a recording and I didn’t want to stand you up, so…” She trailed off when she realized he was no longer listening.
Joseph Craig was bent down on one knee in his expensive suit and cashmere coat, smiling at Taylor. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Taylor.”
When I Saw You Page 9