Page 111 of Notorious

That’s if he hasn’t hidden his money so it’s impossible to get to anyhow.

“I don’t wanna talk to him,” I say, feeling like a coward.

Noah seems to read the look on my face and gives me a reassuring nod. “That’s fine. It’s standard for you not to see the other side, because they know it will just drive you farther and farther apart.”

That makes me feel sorta better, but this whole thing is shit, because he’s never going to admit what he did.

We go into a conference room and wait. And wait. And wait. Eventually the mediator comes in.

“Mr. Pinkerton is offering to settle for $15,000.”

I stand up. “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.”

Noah makes a “sit down” motion. “There’s a thing in mediation called the ‘insult-outrage round.’ That’s where we’re insulted they offered so little, and they’re outraged we’re demanding so much.”

“We haven’t demanded too much,” I grumble. “If this goes to trial, I’ll be wanting a lot more. I’m willing to take a discount just to get this over with.”

“Suffice it to say,” Danny says to the mediator, “the offer is declined.”

The mediator takes this in stride. “Do you have a counter?”

We’d discussed this ahead of time, and Danny tells him our counter is $350,000. The mediator nods. “Honestly, that’s a reasonable number,” he says, “given what I understand about this case.” He smiles. “I’ll see what I can do.”

For the next hour and a half, Noah, Danny, and I stare out the window. Talk with each other. Order lunch.

“Why’s it takin’ so long?” I ask.

“The mediator could be laying into him. Telling him the weak parts of his case. Trying to get him to see our point of view,” Danny says.

“Yeah, I can see that happening … never,” I mutter.

“The mediator’s probably trying to get him to offer something that isn’t an insult. Let him take his time,” Noah advises. “From what I know about Gary, it’ll take some convincing to get him to offer more than a token amount.”

Finally, the mediator returns. After explaining the other side’s position and their defenses—namely all the shit I already know, like how I’m a porn star and getting fucked is part of the job, although he doesn’t say it that crassly—he gets to the point. “Mr. Pinkerton is offering $69,000.”

I stare, my jaw dropping. “Does he think that’s funny?”

The mediator purses his lips. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think he’s taking this case seriously enough, so yes, I think the number is him being … a smart aleck.”

Danny looks pissed. “More like a jackass.’’ He tells the mediator, “Let us talk with our client,” and the mediator leaves.

Noah looks at me. “How are you doing?”

“Not that well. What do you think about that number?” I ask.

“I think it’s a lot of money, but it’s nowhere near what your case is worth,” Noah says. “The mediator’s right that our initial request was reasonable. Your case is worth more than $350k. Ask people if they’d take $69,000 to be gang-raped and drugged and lose their livelihood. Given your former earnings, how you haven’t had work in months, how you don’t have prospects of future work—it’s pennies on the dollar. Plus, you’ve had to go through the drama and expense of a lawsuit. But it’s your call, because $69k is still a significant chunk of change. The risk is that you lose at trial or the jury awards you less than that, and then you’d be kicking yourself for not taking the offer.”

“Fuck,” I say, scrubbing my face. “I don’t like this. I don’t like having to decide.” Because it is a lot of money. I haven’t been able to send my mama hardly anything in months, and this would help with that.

But it also seems like I’d be selling myself cheap.

I’m at war with myself. I don’t like the idea of being a greedy plaintiff seeking millions, but I was really, really fucking hurt—physically, financially, psychologically—and no amount of money would ever be able to make up for that.

Also, if I settle, no one will know. That’s one of the reasons why these settlements exist—to avoid a public trial where everyone is going to parade their dirtiest laundry out in front of the world.

That’s what I deserve. For everyone to see what a loser I am.

I’m tempted to settle. To take what they’re offering, even though I think it’s insulting. To get rid of some debts, move on with my life, pay my lawyers, and have some closure.

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