Annie Oakley and Buffalo Bill Ch. 02

I liked her no-nonsense tone so I bravely set out to recount the experience. But when I reached the part about what happened in his room, all my emotions came back to me in a rush and I found myself weeping so much that I couldn't go on.

"It's alright, my dear," she said soothingly, handing me a box of tissues and waiting for me to compose myself. "There's a trick to getting through this. You need to stop thinking about yourself; instead, I want you to imagine that you're watching a drama on television. Tell me what the actors are doing onscreen."

Strangely, that seemed to help. When I stopped saying "I" and "me" and began saying "she" and "he," it made it a little less personal, and I managed to get through the description of what happened.

When I had finished, she made me go through it again, but this time she had me recount the last events of the trip first and work my way backwards. By the time I had finished, the experience didn't seem quite as overwhelming as when I started.

Ms. Rubenstein made some notes on her pad and then turned to Bill. "Bill, would you please excuse us for a few minutes? I would like to talk to Ms. Ochs in private."

I was startled, and Buffalo Bill looked nonplussed, but he arose and left, closing the door behind him. I wondered what to expect.

"Why do we need to talk without Bill, Ms. Rubenstein?" I asked her timidly.

"Before I get to that, I want you to call me Randi and I'll call you Annie," she said. "We're on the same side, and I want you to feel at ease with me, able to say whatever you wish.

"As to why I asked Bill to leave, I did so because I want to say some things to you that you may not feel so comfortable hearing. I want you to feel free to say 'Go to hell, Randi' if you wish!"

I laughed but she didn't, and I wondered if she might just be serious.

"Annie, when we get in the courtroom, the attorney for Consolidated is not going to be nice to you. He's going to try to show that what happened was all your fault. He's going to try to make it appear that you're a slutty young girl who wanted to sleep with her boss to get ahead at the company."

As she was speaking, I could feel myself turning pale. "No!" I protested, "That's not true."

"You know that and I know that, but our job will be to convince the judge," she replied evenly. "Right now, I think our odds are less than fifty-fifty."

My heart fell.

She cocked her head and looked at me appraisingly. "Bill has told me a little about you, and I've now had a chance to observe you briefly. Would you like to know what I have learned and why I made the observation I just shared with you?"

"I guess so," I said hesitantly.

"Annie, I know a little about your background and some of the challenges you've faced. Under the circumstances, I'm amazed that you've done so well. Nevertheless, the truth is that you are not a very self-confident woman. You don't like to be the center of attention. Even as we're speaking, I see you twisting and turning, trying to hide in that chair."

I blushed when I realized how I had slumped in my seat.

"I believe the account you gave of what happened in Kurt Jorgenson's room was truthful and accurate," she went on. "Your account was clear, but you delivered that account in a hesitant and unconvincing manner. If you do that in court, your demeanor will belie your words, and perhaps the judge will have doubts about your credibility."

My heart sank again. I knew she was right -- we were doomed.

If she noted my despair, Randi gave no sign of it. Instead, she changed her tone slightly.

"But I also know some other things about you, some things you may not have considered," she went on.

I looked up curiously.

"I know, for example, that despite all the obstacles you faced, you managed to graduate number one in your class in Accounting."

I started to protest, but she waved me off.

"I know that you managed to win a highly coveted job with Consolidated in the face of significant competition not only from other graduates of UT Tyler but also from more prominent universities as well," she went on.

"Most important," she said, "I know that you turned Bill down when he sought your help in Tyler, yet you somehow found the strength within you to take the on challenge anyway. I'd like to know where you found that strength, Annie."

"I found it in a yellow rose," I answered quietly.

A puzzled look flitted across her face, but she went on. "Wherever you found it, you have shown me that you have the necessary resources within you to face the challenges before you. You can meet this one as well if you'll just remember all the things you've accomplished so far and believe in yourself."

I hoped she was right. I wanted to believe, but it was so hard.

Randi wasn't through with me. "Now I have some homework for you to do tonight and tomorrow. In the folder on my desk is a copy of every document, file and affidavit we've been able to lay our hands on regarding this case. I want you to go through them tonight to refresh your memory on every detail. I want you to be as knowledgeable and current on all this as though it had happened just yesterday. I don't want any surprises when we go in that courtroom. And if you see anything that prompts your memory, or any new information or insight that we can use, I want you to let me know right away."

I nodded, took the package from her and stood to leave.

"Wait," she commanded, "there's more."

I sat down hastily.

"There's something else about you I've observed," Randi said. "You use your clothing to try to hide from people. You try to be inconspicuous even though you're an attractive young woman. Your appearance says you are unsure of yourself; I want it to express your self-confidence. I want you to look different so you'll feel different on the witness stand."

"But all my clothes pretty much look like these," I protested.

She reached into her desk, pulled out a business card, scribbled on it and then handed it to me. "My daughter is a personal shopper for Nordstrom's in the Galleria. Take this to her tomorrow morning and tell her I want you to look self-confident and attractive. She'll know what to do."

When I went out to the reception area, Bill was waiting impatiently. As we drove away, he wanted to know what Randi had said, and I told him because I wanted to get his reaction. He tried to be diplomatic, but I could tell he agreed with Randi's assessment of me. The truth was, I did too; I just hadn't realized it was so obvious to everyone else.

But I was a little surprised by Randi's instructions to get some new clothes. "I never heard of anything like that, Bill, have you?" He admitted that he'd never heard of such a thing either. "But I think you should trust her, Annie Oakley. She's crossed swords with big corporations her whole career and her record is pretty amazing. I think she knows what she's doing."

I just shook my head in wonder – it was all too much too fast.

Buffalo Bill offered to take me out to dinner – someplace nicer than Hartz Chicken, he promised – but I turned him down. "Randi gave me a bunch of homework to do tonight. I'm just going to go back to my motel room and dig into it. If I get hungry, I'll order a pizza," I told him. He nodded, but I could tell he was disappointed.

When I opened the folder back in my room, the contents immediately brought back a flood of memories. There was a whole smorgasbord of material, from corporate brochures to accounting manuals, from emails to policy updates. Yet every single piece looked and felt like COG, a place I would have been happy never to think about again in my lifetime. Still, if there was one thing I know how to do, it's study, so I plowed into the material without hesitation.

It was almost ten o'clock when something caught my eye. I checked it again, and then grabbed my calendar to double-check the date. When I realized the implications, I couldn't help myself. "That son of a bitch!" I yelled.

Hastily I pulled out the contact information Randi had included in the packet. I hated to call her at home at that hour, but I was angry enough that I decided to go for it.

"Randi," I said when she'd finally answered the phone, "I think I've found something important." When I explained what I'd seen and the significance, I could almost hear her grinning through the phone.

"Now don't you say anything about this, Annie," she admonished me. "We'll just tuck it away in our quiver and pull it out when the right time comes."

I promised, and after I got off the phone I got ready for bed. I'd completed the first half of my assignment okay, but I wasn't so confident about the second part.

The next morning at ten o'clock I drove over to the Galleria and walked into Nordstrom's. At the customer service desk I showed them the card Randi had given me, and very shortly a bouncy woman came striding up to me. There was no doubt in my mind she was Randi's daughter: she looked exactly like her mother must have twenty-five years earlier.

"Hi," she said to me brightly, "you must be Annie Ochs. I'm Mindy Cohen. My mother told me to be expecting you today."

As she led me away, I asked, "So, are you the Wizard of Oz here to give me some courage?"

She laughed merrily. "No, but I am here to make you look gorgeous, and that's almost as good."

I noticed we were passing the women's clothing departments. "Where are we going?" I asked Mindy in confusion. "Aren't we supposed to be getting some clothes for me to wear tomorrow?"

"We will, but first we have a little preparatory work to do," she said with a laugh, pointing me in the direction of the beauty salon.

"You're not going to cut my hair?" I asked in alarm.

Mindy just smiled and held up the card Randi had given me. On the back were two words underlined with the stroke of a pen: "The works." She ignored my protests and led me reluctantly into the salon.

Two hours later, I could scarcely recognize the woman who stared back at me in the mirror. Not only had my hair been cut and shaped into a contemporary style, but a talented young woman had patiently taught me how to apply make-up, something I'd never worn before. I was in a mild state of shock.

Next Mindy led me back to the clothing departments. In the past, shopping had always been easy for me: I'd go to Walmart, find what I needed, buy it in a large size and leave. With Mindy, shopping became an ordeal of trying on an endless number of outfits, trying different sizes and having alterations done. By the time we were finished, I was exhausted.

Finally, late that afternoon, Mindy packed me into my car to drive back to my motel. "Don't let anyone see you before the hearing," she reminded me. "You're going to knock their socks off, and you want it to be a surprise."

When I got back to my room, I couldn't resist trying on my new clothes again. I couldn't believe it: the woman who stared back at me in the mirror on the wall looked as though she'd just stepped out of some modeling assignment. The clothes hugged my body and showed curves I never knew I had. My legs and arms no longer looked skinny and awkward; instead, the stranger I saw looked poised and confident. "Doggone," I thought, "maybe I can pull this off after all."

I had to take a cab to the courtroom the next morning because I was still putting on my make-up. It had taken me longer to put all that stuff on than I was used to. Everyone else was already seated awaiting the judge. I took a deep breath and walked into the room.

Randi was the first to spot me, and she gave me a big grin and a thumbs up when she saw me. Then Buffalo Bill turned around. At first he gave me only a brief glance, but suddenly his head jerked back and he stared in amazement. I saw his eyes widen, and then he mouthed, "Annie, is that you?"

I only smiled and walked carefully in my new four-inch stiletto heels to the row where the witnesses were seated. When I got there, I sat down and tugged on my pencil skirt so that it came to just above my knees, then carefully smoothed the short tailored jacket that hugged my curves. Remembering Mindy's admonition, I sat with my shoulders back and my spine straight. "I may be scared to death inside," I thought, "but I am not going to show it on the outside."

Out of the corner of my eye I looked over at the defendant's table. There he was: my nemesis, Kurt Jorgenson. He was staring at me uncertainly, as though he didn't quite recognize me. "Good," I thought, "let him worry about me for a change."

The morning began with Bill's testimony, and after Randi had finished with him there was a lot of cross-examination, frequently hostile. I grew increasingly nervous. After a break for lunch, I was finally called to the stand. "You can do this, Annie," I kept reminding myself. "You're not the same girl who ran away from COG so many months ago."

Randi quickly led me through a recital of the details of that terrible week that started in Charleston and ended in Houston. I kept reminding myself to sit up straight and describe what had happened as though I were watching it on television. Finally it was time for my cross-examination.

The attorney for COG wore a western-style suit and cowboy boots that clumped menacingly on the marble floor as he approached the witness stand. He looked at his notes for a minute, and then suddenly asked, "On the night in question, Miss Ochs, isn't it true that Mr. Jorgenson found a serious error in the work you had completed that day?"

"I didn't make an error," I said calmly, "but the process I used was not in compliance with Consolidated's current accounting procedure for oil lease rights."

"As I said," he went on smoothly, "the work was wrong."

I said nothing.

"And Mr. Jorgenson reprimanded you for your error, didn't he, Miss Ochs?"

"Yes, sir."

"How did that make you feel, Miss Ochs?"

"I was dismayed. I couldn't understand how I could have made such an error," I admitted.

"Would something like that have had a negative impact on your job evaluation?"

"Yes, sir" I conceded.

"And didn't you offer to try to find some way to make amends for your error?"

"Well, yes, but . . ."

He cut me off. "And didn't you offer to have sex with Mr. Jorgenson if he would overlook your error?"

"No, that's not true!" I shouted, but he cut me off before I could elaborate.

"So whatever happened between the two of you was at your initiative and entirely voluntary on your part, wasn't it, Miss Ochs?"

"No," I shouted again. "He forced me to . . ."

With a wave of his hand, the attorney turned to the bench. "That will be all, your Honor. We have no further questions at this time."

Randi stood up quickly. "Your Honor, I'd like to ask my client a few more questions on redirect examination."

The judge motioned her forward.

"Keep your courage, Annie, you're doing fine," Randi whispered as she approached.

Then, in a normal voice, she said, "It would appear that what precipitated the incident in question was the application of Consolidated Oil's accounting procedures with regard to oil lease valuations." She held up a sheaf of papers with the COG logo on top. "Are these the procedures in question, Miss Ochs?"

I recognized them immediately; they were the same documents I'd reviewed in my motel room. "Yes, ma'am," I replied.

Randi then handed them to defense counsel for review. After a quick glance by Jorgenson and the defense attorney, the procedures were admitted into evidence.

Randi came back to the witness stand. "Miss Ochs, I notice on the bottom of every page a notation in small print. Could you tell us what that is and its significance?"

I took the sheets from her again. "That's the revision date. Every time there's a change in the procedure, the revision date is noted so there's no chance of confusion."

"And what is the date that these particular procedures were revised?" she asked innocently.

I read the date out loud to the court.

"And is that date significant to you, Miss Ochs?" she inquired.

"Yes," I said forcefully, "that is the same day Mr. Jorgenson assaulted me!"

Counsel for the defense objected immediately to my use of the word "assault," but the judge waived him off. "I want to hear where this is going, counselor."

Randi was unfazed by the interruption. "If the procedure changes, how do field auditors at Consolidated know to apply the new standards?" she asked me.

I turned to look directly at Kurt Jorgenson. He refused to meet my eyes. "Our supervisor is supposed to notify us of any revisions," I said.

"And did Mr. Jorgenson advise you of this change in procedure?" Randi asked.

I stared at Jorgenson with loathing. "No, he did not. He gave me that assignment because he knew I would be unaware of the last minute change. He set me up to fail and then he took advantage of me!"

While I was giving my last response, counsel for the defense was on his feet and objecting so vociferously that the judge had to use his gavel to restore order. When everyone finally quieted down, he glared at all of us. "I don't want to hear another commotion like that in my courtroom, understand?"

Then he sat back in his seat. "We've had a long day of testimony, and it's getting late. We will recess for the day and reconvene in the morning. Court is adjourned."

Our little group retreated to Randi's office in a jovial mood. "We scored some big points today," Randi asserted happily.

Bill was still surprised at the way things had gone. "How in the world did you find out COG had made a change in their policy?" he asked her.

Randi smiled. "I always thought it was strange that Jorgenson would suddenly switch assignments on Annie, especially when she was so new in her job. I also wondered how Annie could have made such an obvious mistake like that in the first place. I felt it had to be a set-up. But it was Annie who found the smoking gun when she caught the revision date on the procedures. Jorgenson knew the change was coming, but the online procedures weren't updated till the day Annie was working on her assignment. The printed versions probably weren't distributed for another week."

Just then, Randi's secretary appeared. "There's a phone call for you, Ms. Rubenstein. I think you'll want to take it – it's the counsel for the defense."

Randi ducked into another office to take the call, and Bill changed the subject.

"Omigosh, Annie Oakley, I couldn't believe it when you walked into the courtroom. I almost dropped my eyeballs."

"So you like my new look?" I asked hopefully.

"Like it? I love it! I always thought you looked good, but today you look like a model. What went on yesterday?"

I began to tell him about my experience with Randi's daughter at Nordstrom's, but before I could finish, Randi came bouncing back into the office.

"I told you we had them. They want to deal. They're offering each of you a million dollars to settle the suit!"

Bill let out a war whoop and began to dance around the room. But when Randi looked at me, I just said "No."

Bill jerked around to stare at me. "No? Why not?"

I folded my arms and set my jaw. "Two million each for Bill and me, two million for Betty Murphy, who had to go through the same thing I did, and five million to the Houston Area Women's Center for rape and sexual abuse." I looked at Randi. "Plus they cover your attorney's fees. And one more thing: Kurt Jorgenson gets fired. It's all that or we go back to court."

Randi looked at me appraisingly, and then she grinned. "Well, well, it looks like our yellow rose has grown a few thorns. I'll be right back."

Bill looked at me quizzically. "Are you sure, Annie Oakley? We won a battle today, but that doesn't guarantee we'll win the war. It's still possible we could walk away with nothing."

I looked at him solemnly. "I didn't come back here to settle for half a loaf, Buffalo Bill. If they want to fight, I'm here to fight."