Conduct in Question

Chapter 8

Meet Katharine Rowe, urban planning professional and neice of Marjorie Deighton. She grew up in Marjorie Deighton's house, which once belonged to Katharine's parents. Now her world encompasses the highest business and legal eschelons, where you will meet Archbishop Staunton and Tony Mckeown of the law firm Cheney, Arpin. 

On the day that Marjorie died, Katharine had been in the midst of appointments, struggling to maintain control of Orion’s newest client, the archbishop of the Anglican Church. Inexplicably, Archbishop Staunton had decided to personally promote the plans of St. Timothy’s Church to sell out to a shopping-mall developer.

Katharine’s male partners had voted unanimously to assign personal charge of the client to her. The senior partners would control the important matters of design and structure. Surely, a man of the cloth required special tact and sensitivity to guide him through the shoals of planning departments, city council meetings, and legal briefs. A woman’s gentle touch was needed; no male was suited for the role of handmaiden.

They did not know Archbishop Staunton. In their ignorance, they expected a kindly, older gentleman, ready to bless their every thought and deed. Shielded by their preconceptions, they saw what they expected. For Katharine, this new client was surprisingly difficult, exhibiting keen intelligence, sophisticated worldliness, and outright pigheadedness. A clerical collar was no guarantee of benevolence. No robe could disguise his cool and calculating manner. His interest in the project was intense. Just like a domineering white male, she thought.

Katharine had revised plans to present to the archbishop at his legal counsel’s office. The head of the church knew the wisdom of retaining the law firm of Cheney, Arpin. The expertise and connections of their most senior urban development lawyer, Tony McKeown, were at their disposal. McKeown was at the pinnacle of the urban-planning law world.

According to Katharine, a woman needed the right combination to succeed in a man’s world: hard‑nosed business acumen, tempered with just enough femininity; competence mellowed with just the right degree of vulnerability.

Last night she had sensed that McKeown was buying into the package. She could guess at his assessment of her: competence, yes; smarts, yes; killer instinct, undoubtedly; easy lay, maybe. But for her, McKeown was hard to read.

“We advise. The client instructs,” McKeown had said last evening. Then, with eyes lowered, he added, “Tomorrow, Mrs. Rowe, you and I will woodshed a priest. By the time I am finished, he will have become an effective witness.” The wry smile and the depth of pleasure in his eyes were more than disconcerting.

Although she sensed danger, she could not place its source. He was very attractive, in a rough and threatening way.

For Katharine, sex was an indispensable weapon in any woman’s arsenal. As a rule, men were weak and vulnerable pawns. But McKeown was different. He was polished like an elegant stone, but there was a sharp and dangerous edge to his charm—a challenge she could not resist.

The next morning, as the elevator to McKeown’s office slowed, Katharine glanced into the mirror. The woman who stared back seemed remote and disconnected from her. She could not deny the desperate hunger in her eyes. Although she had everything in life, no man had ever satisfied her, at least not in bed. And then there was the business of love, she thought bitterly. Her husband, Bob, claimed he loved her, but it was  a suffocating, deadening kind of love. Stepping from the elevator, she caught the reflection of her bright and brittle smile.

First Katharine visited the washroom. As she checked her makeup, she heard sobbing from the lounge. Two women were seated on a low cushioned bench. The soft cries threatened to rise, but then subsided.