CHAPTER 6
Cate strode to the dais, her robes billowing theatrically, making her feel like an actress playing a role. Someday she’d feel like she belonged in this costume, but today wasn’t that day. The negotiations had failed, and Simone had refused to settle, even when the demand decreased to ten grand. It made no sense. The attorneys’ fees for today alone would be that much. Hartford didn’t sneeze for less than twenty grand.
“All rise!” the deputy boomed, his voice echoing in the crowded courtroom.
At the bar of court, Temin and Marz stood in matching wrinkles and brave smiles. Hartford and Simone, both tall, gym-toned, and Armani-clad, didn’t bother to smile. The gallery of reporters, sketch artists, and spectators rose, setting aside newspapers and notepads. Detective Russo anchored the first row next to Marz’s wife, and occupying the seat beside the redhaired consultant and Micah Gilbert was a woman reporter whom Cate recognized from Fox. She’d evidently been tipped off that today might be a big day.
“Good morning, everyone,” Cate said as she seated herself on the dais and arranged her robes around her. The jury box remained empty, and the black bucket chairs left swiveled in their positions.
“Good morning, Your Honor,” replied the chorus, more or less on cue, and Cate managed a stage smile.
“Mr. Hartford, you have a motion to make?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Hartford crossed to the lectern and squared his shoulders. “At this juncture, defendant moves for judgment as a matter of law under Rule 50. As Your Honor knows, the standard is well-established, and for these purposes only, the defendant Mr. Simone must accept as true the facts as alleged by plaintiff. We therefore assume that the facts are as Mr. Marz testified, that is, that Mr. Simone agreed to produce Mr. Marz’s story idea and treatment for television, and also that he said, verbatim, ‘When I make money, you’ll make money.’”
Back at counsel table, Temin made notes and Marz sat flushed, his fingers linked on the glistening walnut surface. His wife looked miserable, sitting in the row behind him. Cate could only imagine the pressure Marz was under. His job and his dream, gone.
“Defendant’s argument is simple, Your Honor. Mr. Marz’s testimony is undisputed that he and Mr. Simone did not write down the terms of their contract. Therefore, we’re dealing with an express oral contract. It is also undisputed that Mr. Marz and Mr. Simone didn’t discuss a price term for the contract, neither a specific number nor dollar amount. It is equally undisputed that they didn’t discuss a method of payment, means of payment, or time of payment. In fact, both parties agree that those facts are true.”
At defense table, Simone nodded slightly, and Marz glanced over.
“This Court must grant judgment as a matter of law on the grounds that the single statement by Mr. Simone, taken as true for these purposes only, that ‘when I make money, you’ll make money,’ is too indefinite to form an oral contract that is enforceable by this Court. In other words, it doesn’t matter whom you believe in this case, Mr. Marz or Mr. Simone. Even if everything Mr. Marz said is true, he still doesn’t have a contract, as a matter of law.”
Cate made a note on her legal pad. I’M NOT GOING DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT, EITHER.
“As Your Honor knows, this matter comes before this Court on diversity jurisdiction, and Pennsylvania law governs the facts, as all meetings regarding the alleged contract took place in Pennsylvania.”
Cate had been up most of the night, researching online, and had learned that a different result would probably have applied under California law, a state more experienced with the way entertainment contracts were formed. It told her just how manipulative Simone had been in arranging that the relevant meetings were held in Philadelphia. She generally approved of shopping, but for the perfect shoes, not the perfect law.
Hartford said, “Under Pennsylvania law, it is clear that express oral contracts that are indefinite as to the price term are not enforceable. The seminal case for this proposition is-”
Cate raised a finger, and Hartford fell instantly silent, demonstrating the deference shown only to Article III judges and Saudi royalty. “Mr. Hartford, what do you say to the fact that Mr. Marz quit his job at the district attorney’s office in reliance on his oral contract with Mr. Simone?”
“Your Honor, with all due respect, that would be irrelevant.”
“I remind you that Pennsylvania recognizes the doctrine of justifiable reliance. Mr. Marz justifiably relied on Mr. Simone’s representation, to his detriment.”
“Your Honor, Mr. Marz’s reliance was not justifiable on these facts. A reasonable man would have questioned the price term long before Mr. Marz did, especially given that he is a lawyer.”
“Isn’t that a question for the jury?”
“Not on these facts, Your Honor. A Pennsylvania court would not apply the justifiable reliance doctrine in these circumstances, and with respect, this Court is not free to disregard Pennsylvania law.”
Temin scribbled while Marz shifted in his seat, his brow knitting in anger. Simone was smiling slightly.
Cate leaned over the dais. “Pennsylvania also recognizes the unjust enrichment doctrine. What do you say to the fact that Mr. Marz worked for eight months on a treatment, which Mr. Simone accepted and then produced, making millions of dollars? Taken as true, these facts make clear that your client was unjustly enriched at the expense of Mr. Marz.”
The gallery shifted. Reporters took notes. Spectators whispered. The courtroom deputy smiled.
“Your Honor, Mr. Marz made an imprudent decision in quitting his job, one that a reasonable man wouldn’t make. We’ve all heard the adage ‘Don’t quit your day job.’ Furthermore, Detective Russo, given the same set of facts, did not quit his day job. The law of unjust enrichment does not ensure against bad judgment.”
Cate bore down. “Certainly, Mr. Hartford, the equities do not lie in your client’s favor.”
“With respect, Your Honor, the equities are irrelevant under the law. There is insufficient evidence of an enforceable contract for this matter to be put to the jury, and the law requires you to enter judgment as a matter of law in favor of Mr. Simone and his company. Not to do so, on these facts, I daresay, would be reversible error.”
Cate glared at him, unable to say what she wanted and too mad to write in big letters.
Hartford said, “To continue my argument, Your Honor, the seminal case in Pennsylvania is…”
Cate eased back in her chair, barely listening as Hartford recited the litany of case law supporting his position. She had read them last night, and Emily had confirmed them this morning. She was hoping Temin could come up with something, and when Hartford finished, she motioned to him. “Mr. Temin, your response?”
“Certainly.” Temin scurried to the lectern, and Marz shifted upwards in his seat. “May it please the Court, plaintiff opposes defendant’s motion for judgment as a matter of law. This case presents a clear question of credibility, which the jury can, and should, be able to decide. To grant this motion is to deny Mr. Marz his day in court.”
Cate’s shoulders sank, hidden in the voluminous robes. Temin’s argument was absolutely true, but it wasn’t a legal argument. It was about justice, not law, and Hartford was arguing law, not justice. The law was clear that even if Simone had said his famous line, it wouldn’t be enough to make an enforceable contract in Pennsylvania. And in that case, the law did not permit the question to be decided by the jury, because they would be swayed-by justice.
Temin was saying, “Mr. Marz has an absolute right to his day in court, Your Honor. It is his word against Mr. Simone’s, and only the jury is qualified to make that decision about who’s lying and who’s telling the truth. To take the case away from them would allow Mr. Simone to take ruthless advantage of…”
Cate couldn’t listen to him, either. Temin was making a persuasive jury speech, but the kind of words that swayed the heart, not the mind. And her heart felt sick. She’d sentenced a young mother to life in prison last week and felt better than she did right now. Then, at least, she had followed the law and done justice. Today she had to follow the law and not do justice. She had known, as a trial lawyer, that this could happen, but she’d never seen it, much less been the one to actually
Temin finished up. “And for all of the foregoing, Your Honor, we ask the Court to deny the defendant’s motion.”
“Thank you, Mr. Temin. I have your argument.” Cate looked down at Hartford. “Rebuttal, Counsel?”
“Yes, thank you.” Hartford took the lectern, standing very erect, as Temin moved aside. “Your Honor, with all due respect, defendant takes issue with the Court’s demeanor as well as its characterization of the facts, and I object to-”
