it off the table. "Hi,, honey,”
he said as he stood and walked away. It was (the third) Mrs. Trudeau, the latest trophy, a deadly young woman whom Ratzlaff and everyone else at the company avoided at all costs. Her husband was whispering,, then said goodbye.
He walked to a window near the lawyers and gazed at the sparkling towers around him.
"Bobby," he said without looking, "do you have any idea where the jury got the figure of thirty-eight million for punitive damages,?”
"Not right offhand,.”
"Of course you don't. For the first nine months of this year,
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