Chapter 49: The Settlement Offer
Harvey's call came through at two-thirty on a Thursday afternoon. I'd been expecting it since the discovery conference, just not quite this soon.
"Roden."
"My client wants to settle." No preamble. Harvey's voice was controlled, professional, stripped of the personal edge from our hallway confrontation. "One-fifty plus neutral reference letter."
I leaned back in my chair, thinking through the implications. Meridian Industries offering settlement meant they'd reviewed the discovery I'd won, calculated their exposure, and decided fighting wasn't worth it.
[ **Win Rate Calculator: Settlement Assessment** ]
Settlement Offer: $150,000 + neutral reference Fair Market Value: Appropriate for wrongful termination case Trial Victory Probability: 61% (±14%) Client Acceptance Likelihood: 87% Hardman Approval Likelihood: 23%
"Let me talk to my client," I said. "I'll get back to you tomorrow."
"Don't take too long. Offer expires Monday."
"Understood."
Harvey hung up without goodbye. I set the phone down, stared at my computer screen without seeing it. One-fifty was fair—not generous, but reasonable compensation for six months unemployment, emotional distress, and reputation damage. Kessler would probably accept it.
But Hardman would want trial. Public vindication. Harvey and Jessica squirming through depositions while their client's retaliation pattern got exposed in open court.
My door opened. Hardman walked in, looking pleased.
"Heard Meridian's counsel called. Settlement offer?"
"One-fifty plus neutral reference."
"And you said?"
"That I'd consult my client and respond Monday."
Hardman's expression shifted. "You're considering accepting."
"It's a fair offer. Kessler gets paid, gets his reference, can move forward with his life."
"Or we go to trial, win two-fifty plus punitive damages, and make Pearson Hardman look incompetent defending obvious retaliation." Hardman leaned against my door frame. "This case isn't about money, Scott. It's about sending a message."
"To my client, it's about getting his life back."
"Then your client lacks vision."
I met Hardman's eyes. "My client wants justice. Not your vendetta against Jessica Pearson."
The temperature in the room dropped. Hardman straightened, expression going cold.
"Everything here is about settling scores. With Jessica, with Harvey, with every firm that dismissed us. If you can't understand that, you're in the wrong place."
"I understand it perfectly. I just don't accept it as my primary obligation."
Hardman studied me for a long moment. "Talk to your client. But remember—you're here because you're good at hurting Pearson Hardman. That's your value to me. If you stop providing it, I stop protecting you."
He left. I sat in the sudden silence, thinking about what he'd said. The threat was clear: serve Hardman's agenda or become expendable.
But I'd known that walking in.
I called Gerald Kessler. He answered on the second ring, hopeful.
"Mr. Roden?"
"Mr. Kessler. Meridian's offering settlement. One hundred fifty thousand dollars plus a neutral reference letter stating you left voluntarily."
Silence on the other end. Then: "That's... that's actually good, right?"
"It's fair. Industry standard for wrongful termination cases with your fact pattern."
"What do you recommend?"
I could tell him to reject it, push for trial, aim for the larger payday and public vindication. Could paint the picture of walking into court, putting Meridian's HR director on the stand, making them admit they fired him for reporting fraud.
Could serve Hardman's interests over his.
"Take it," I said. "You reported fraud, got fired for it, and now you're getting paid enough to bridge your unemployment gap and a reference that lets you work again. That's justice, Mr. Kessler. Not perfect justice, but real justice."
"You don't think we could win more at trial?"
"Maybe. But trials are uncertain. We could win big, or we could lose everything. One-fifty is certain money that lets you move on."
Long pause. Background noise—kids playing, his wife calling someone. The sounds of a life he was trying to rebuild.
"Okay. Accept it. And Mr. Roden? Thank you. For treating this like it mattered."
"It did matter. You did the right thing reporting fraud. They punished you for it. Now they're paying for that. It might not feel like enough, but it's real accountability."
We hung up. I drafted the acceptance email, held it in my drafts folder. Went to Hardman's office.
He was on a call but waved me in. I waited while he finished some negotiation about document production, aggressive and theatrical. When he hung up, I didn't give him time to speak.
"Kessler wants to accept the settlement. I'm going to counter at one-seventy-five to push back on their lowball, but we're settling."
Hardman's jaw tightened. "We could humiliate them at trial."
"We could. But my job is serving my client, not your revenge fantasy against Jessica Pearson."
"Your job is what I say it is."
"My obligation is to my client. That's non-negotiable." I kept my voice level, professional. "You hired me because I'm good at this. Part of being good is knowing when to settle and when to fight. This is a settlement case."
"Everything is a fight case when the opponent is Pearson Hardman."
"Then you need different counsel for this matter. Because I'm recommending acceptance."
We stared at each other. The office felt smaller, compressed by tension. Hardman could fire me right now, third month at his firm, make it clear that refusing his agenda meant losing my job.
But he didn't.
"Counter at one-seventy-five," he said finally. "Make them pay for trying to lowball us. Then close it."
"Agreed."
I walked out before he could change his mind. Back in my office, I called Harvey.
"We'll accept one-seventy-five and the neutral reference."
"That's twenty-five grand more than we offered."
"Consider it the cost of stonewalling legitimate discovery and making us drag you into court." I kept my tone professional, not gloating. "Your client tried to fight instead of settling early. They're paying for that choice."
Harvey was quiet for several seconds. "One-sixty."
"One-seventy-five. Your client retaliated against a whistleblower, fought discovery to hide it, lost in front of a judge. They're lucky we're not adding another fifty thousand for emotional distress."
"One-sixty-five. Final offer."
I thought about it. Twenty-five percent increase over initial offer, reasonable negotiation range, enough to show Kessler I'd fought for him without getting greedy.
"Deal. Send the settlement agreement by end of week."
"Done. And Roden?" Harvey's voice changed, something almost like respect in it. "You handled this well. Professional."
"That's what lawyers do."
"Most lawyers. Not all."
He hung up. I sat back, feeling the adrenaline drain away. First case against Pearson Hardman, resolved in client's favor, everyone walking away satisfied except maybe Hardman.
[ **System Notification: Case Resolution** ]
Kessler v. Meridian Industries: Settled Client Recovery: $165,000 + neutral reference Original Assessment: $150,000 Performance: +10% above predicted outcome Reputation Impact: Positive - handled professionally
I dismissed the notification and pulled up my billable hours log. Sixty-three hours on Kessler over two months. Not huge, but solid work. More importantly, I'd proven I could take on Harvey Specter and win.
My phone buzzed. Text from Donna: Heard you settled. Congratulations.
Thanks. Fair outcome for everyone.
Except Harvey's ego.
Especially Harvey's ego.
Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Then: He respects you now. Won't admit it, but he does. Be careful—that makes you more dangerous to him, not less.
I stared at that message, parsing the warning. Harvey respecting me meant he'd take me seriously, which meant he'd fight harder next time instead of dismissing me.
Good. I wanted him to fight seriously. Made the wins mean more.
HARVEY SPECTER - PEARSON HARDMAN
Harvey hung up with Scott and sat for a moment, processing. One-sixty-five. Twenty-five percent more than his opening offer, achieved through straightforward negotiation without theatrics or threats.
Professional. Competent. Effective.
Exactly the kind of opposing counsel he hated facing.
Donna appeared in his doorway. "Settlement?"
"One-sixty-five."
"That's high."
"That's fair." Harvey pulled up the case file, looked at the timeline Scott had documented so precisely. "He had us beat. Discovery revealed exactly what he said it would—retaliation pattern, rushed HR investigation, promoted the people Kessler reported while firing him."
"So you lost."
"We negotiated reasonable settlement for a case we couldn't win at trial."
Donna smiled slightly. "That's lawyer-speak for 'yes, I lost.'"
Harvey glared at her. She didn't flinch.
"Scott handled it well," she continued. "Served his client, didn't make it personal, got good result without unnecessary conflict."
"Are you defending him?"
"I'm observing reality. Something you're usually good at."
Harvey turned back to his computer, effectively dismissing her. But she was right. Scott had beaten him cleanly, professionally, without the antagonism Harvey had expected.
Which somehow made it worse.
His phone rang. Jessica.
"I heard about the Meridian settlement."
"News travels fast."
"When my senior partner loses to Daniel Hardman's new hire, yes, it travels fast." Jessica's voice was dry. "What happened?"
"Scott Roden happened. Thorough discovery motion, beat me on case law I should have known, proved retaliation pattern, forced settlement."
"And your assessment?"
Harvey thought about Scott in that conference room, citing Marshall v. Continental without hesitation. Thought about the way he'd negotiated settlement—firm but not aggressive, confident but not arrogant.
"He's better than we gave him credit for. Good enough to be a real problem if he stays at Hardman's firm."
"Or good enough to recruit back."
Harvey's hand tightened on his phone. "You fired him."
"I removed him from an untenable situation. Different thing." Jessica paused. "Think about it, Harvey. He's proving himself at a satellite firm fighting against us. What happens when he gets tired of being Daniel Hardman's weapon?"
She hung up before Harvey could respond.
SCOTT RODEN
I left the office at six, earlier than usual. Walked through Midtown toward the subway, hands in pockets, city noise washing over me.
First case at Hardman & Associates, resolved successfully. Client happy, opposing counsel acknowledging competence, boss satisfied if not thrilled. By any objective measure, a win.
So why did it feel incomplete?
Because Hardman was right about one thing—part of me had wanted trial. Wanted to put Harvey on defense, make him watch while his client got exposed, prove definitively that forcing me out of Pearson Hardman had been a mistake.
But that wasn't serving Gerald Kessler. That was serving my ego.
The distinction mattered.
My phone buzzed. Text from Mike Ross: Heard you settled. Good result. Buy you a drink sometime?
I stared at that message, surprised. Mike Ross, Harvey's protégé, reaching out after losing to me. That was either genuine respect or strategic relationship building.
Yeah. This week sometime.
Tomorrow? Bar near the courthouse, 6pm?
See you there.
I pocketed the phone and descended into the subway. Tomorrow I'd have drinks with Mike Ross, the fraud I couldn't expose, and probably have a perfectly pleasant conversation with a genuinely decent person built on a lie.
The System cataloged it all without comment, but I didn't need its input to feel the cognitive dissonance.
Mike was good at his job. He cared about clients. He worked hard and meant well.
He also didn't have a law degree.
And I could never do anything about it.
The train arrived. I got on, found a seat, closed my eyes. Tomorrow. I'd deal with the contradictions tomorrow.
Tonight, I'd just accept the win.
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