Frank picked up the silver colored watch and observed it dangling from his two large fingers.
Sophia plucked the cheap watch from Frank.
“Thank you.”
Sophia slipped the white-faced round watch into her suit-coat pocket. This watch was all she could afford; just like the synthetic navy blue interview suit she wore that needed ironing after each use, or more precisely, after five minutes of use.
Sophia turned to leave, angry with Frank and angrier with herself. Her mind kept fumbling around for a save.
“Ms. Christopoulos, why did you go to law school?”
Sophia turned back and looked Frank straight in the eye. At that point, she had nothing left to lose. She took two steps forward and spoke with the clear, strong voice she had used in moot court.
“Money and power. The chance to pay off my school loans, live large, unlike my parents, and sit in your chair some day. Some day soon.” Sophia hated the watch in her pocket and she hated being mocked. “Because I am no longer a teacher or a nice Greek girl, I do not play the ‘Greek card’ unless it suits my purposes, and you are making a mistake if you think that I will not be a force with whom to be reckoned. I read the Ninth Circuit decision in your last appeal. You won again, but this time only because your opponent erred by conceding a pivotal ‘fact.’ He slipped up. It wasn’t a ‘fact.’ A good lawyer never concedes anything.”
“Interesting. Even the senior partners didn’t pick that one up.”
“Do you want to know the amendments you should make to the complaint you filed last week? Or, maybe, the strategy I would recommend in the suit filed against another of your clients I read about in the news?”
Frank’s eyes narrowed to a hard, straight glare. Then he slowly picked up Sophia’s resume and his pen again.
“Not now.”
Frank respected Sophia’s aggression, impressed with how thoroughly she had prepared for his interview. He had nothing against slow starters, as long as they made sure to start, and she had just more than started by exposing her litigator’s razor edge.
“Let’s just see who you are.”
In Sophia’s plain view, Frank crossed off the word “NO” and scrawled “OK.” Then he threw the resume in his out-box again.
“And how hungry,” Frank added.
Frank sat down and flipped through a fat pleading file.
“You will,” Sophia responded with a small, satisfied smile. “Bet on it.”
With “OK” now scrawled, Sophia knew she had a fighting chance at the job. And given the depressed, tumultuous employment market for new lawyers, and the difficulty of landing almost any law firm job, this one was truly at the pinnacle.
Frank Cummings, the highest paid partner at the most prestigious law firm in the country, had the power Sophia wanted. The power that came from earning and having big money. The power that came from making and being a senior partner at Thorne & Chase. The power that started as a first year associate at one hundred and sixty thousand dollars a year plus bonus. The power earned by selling your soul, mind, and life for the privilege of working 24 hours a day, every day.
Sophia was so grateful she wanted to say more.
“I . . .”
“Goodbye, Ms. Christopoulos.”
Frank did not look up as he cut her off and summarily dismissed her again.
⌘
Chapter 2
Partners and Players
The hiring coordinator escorted Sophia down a stairwell to her next interview with Judith Rubin. Ms. Rubin was the second of the five all-important managing partner interviews that day. Sophia took a deep breath. She had sprinted through last week’s half-day of screening interviews, but this was a long-distance run.
A tall, middle-aged man in a black suit raced down the stairwell past them and mumbled, “Good morning.”
“That’s Roger Morelock. One of the partners you’re having dinner with,” the coordinator whispered.
Then a young man in shirtsleeves shot up the stairs with a large envelope.
“Mail room delivery. The stairwell saves time.”
They both cleared his path.
On the landing a flight down, the coordinator slid a magnetic card through a small electronic box and opened the door.
“We’re secure. You can get into the stairwell and exit on the first floor, but you can’t get back onto any of our eight floors without a card.”
Out in the hallway, the coordinator’s cell phone rang.
“I’ll be just a minute. I should get this. We’re early, anyway.”
Sophia wandered down the walnut-paneled hall and saw Judith Rubin’s shiny brass nameplate. Ms. Rubin was the President of the Women Lawyers Association and a high-profile business litigator. As she approached the office, Sophia heard loud voices through the closed door. She stepped in closer.
“I’m not handing Marvin anything, Chet,” a woman yelled. “I deserve half that client’s billing, fifty-fifty. In fact, I deserve one hundred percent. I landed the business.”
Marvin and Chet. Sofia recognized both names. Chet Apel, another of the five managing partners. Marvin Gross was a junior partner, whose bio she read preparing for the interview.
“You did not,” Marvin shouted back.
“Settle down, both of you.” Chet tried to defuse the fight.
“She’s undermining me and stealing my client!”
Marvin kept shouting, not calmed in the least.
“I can’t help it if the client wants me now,” Judith taunted Marvin. “And my reputation landed the business anyway.”
“No, it didn’t. I was a stupid second year and just thought it did! That’s why you got your fifty percent. Chet, she had better leave my client alone and I better get a hundred percent credit from now on.”
“Neither of you will solve this by yelling,” Chet reprimanded. “I’ll take this to the Management Committee.”
Judith’s doorknob turned and the door cracked open. Sophia quickly walked a short distance back down the hallway and feigned interest in one of the paintings on the wall.
“Yeah, Chet, you take it to that den of thieves who make the rules. You take it anywhere you want. I don’t care. But, I’m telling you that is my client and my tape. One way or another, the credit is all going to be mine.”
“Is that a threat?” Judith shouted.
“Take it any way you want.” Marvin stepped into the doorway. “You and Frank and the rest of you thieves had better watch your backs. If you force me out, I’m not going quietly like Doug Henry. Jim Henning is more my style—and you won’t be able to spin doctor two shootings, Chet.”
Predictably, Chet had successfully spun the earlier garage shooting of Jim into oblivion, characterizing him as a “deranged ex-junior partner.” And the news waned with help from his influential friends. The public forgot because no one liked lawyers anyway. And the legal community, although unable to forget, moved on. It collectively suppressed any mention of the incident and Jim Henning, except behind closed doors.
“Now cool down,” Chet called. “It serves no purpose to make threats.”
“There are a lot of us, Chet. We want our clients back. You’d better do something about this. Now.”
Marvin barely glanced at Sophia as he stormed down the hall, his charcoal suit coat flapping with his arms and his black wingtips heeling the carpet. As he made his way to the stairwell, Marvin passed the coordinator, who abruptly ended her call and rushed over to Sophia.
“Let’s go get some coffee. We are still early.”
“Who was that?” Sophia wanted confirmation.
“Marvin Gross, a junior partner.”
Sophia didn’t want the coordinator to know she had been eavesdropping, but Sophia’s curiosity won out and she asked the next question anyway.
“And who’s Doug Henry?”
Sophia had recognized Jim Henning’s name from the news, but not Doug Henry’s.
“Doug Henry was just a junior partner who we
nt to another firm.”
“Oh.”
So another junior partner couldn’t cut it. Sophia didn’t care. At least he went quietly. Jim Henning’s story had been shocking to Sophia, but she discounted it. Even a crazed ex-junior partner attempting to murder his ex-colleagues couldn’t dissuade Sophia from coveting a position with a firm like Thorne & Chase, and the big paycheck.
She knew she would make it if she got hired. She had to. She had no choice with her student debt—a debt the government chose not to make dischargeable in bankruptcy. It was hers until she died. Or it did.
* * *
When Sophia and the coordinator returned to Judith Rubin’s office, a tall thin older man walked out. He was gray-suited in the expected upscale lawyer garb with a vest and bright green tie.
“Hello.” He greeted Sophia in a deep resonant voice with a pleasant smile. “You must be Sophia Christopoulos.”
They shook hands.
“I’m Chet Apel. Call me Chet. You have good people on your schedule today. I hope you enjoy meeting them.”
“I have, so far.” Sophia volleyed a smile along with her lie.
“The firm has work that would interest a person with your qualifications. If you have any questions, I’m available.”
“Thank you, very much.”
Sophia was impressed that Chet knew her resume, and hoped it was a positive sign.
As she crossed into Judith Rubin’s lair, she put Judith and Marvin’s fight aside. Her desire for the prestige and affluence of Thorne & Chase had not diminished—nor her need for the salary.
And, after all, she rationalized, her big Greek family yelled all the time. Here, at least, she would get paid for it!
⌘
Chapter 3
The Medusa
Judith sat behind her desk sipping coffee from a black mug with Thorne & Chase etched across it in gold.
“Hello. I’m Judith. You must be Sophia.”
Judith placed her mug on a crystal coaster and stood, thin and tall. She walked around her French provincial desk with an outreached hand and a smile exposing her big teeth. Her spiked heels clicked loudly on the hardwood floor until she reached the oriental area rug. Her expensive apple-red knit suit moved fluidly with each step.
Sophia knew this partner, unlike her, did not have to press her suit after each wearing, let alone after five minutes in it.
“Yes.” Sophia shook Judith’s hand firmly. “Nice to meet you.”
Sophia was surprised that neither Judith’s face nor her manner showed any residual effect from her fight with Marvin.
“Coffee? Sugar? Cream?” Judith toned it down to a pleasant closed-lipped smile.
“That would be nice, yes. All three.” Sophia was coffee’d out, but respected the ritual and was not through sizing up Judith.
A glance from Judith sent the coordinator scurrying to get the coffee.
Sophia had done her research. Judith graduated with honors from Cornell Law School in upstate New York, clerked for the Sixth Circuit, and was now one of five senior partners on the Management Committee at Thorne & Chase. Most firms had changed to the single managing partner model, but Thorne & Chase had kept its old tried and true Management Committee. Everything at Thorne & Chase was tried and true.
Judith returned to her desk. She picked up Sophia’s resume, her wrist displaying a gold watch with a chocolate alligator band. Sophia appreciated that, a watch that would never accidentally fall on any desk.
As Judith perused Sophia’s resume, Sophia did the same to Judith. Judith’s large nose and four-decades-old face were unattractive, and her hair was clearly dyed blond. She wore too much makeup in an effort to contour and highlight her cheekbones. It didn’t work, at least up close in office lighting.
Sophia smiled when Judith glanced up. Judith’s mascara-framed iridescent green eyes were so penetrating that Sophia forgot the nose and smeared, aging face. She was mesmerized by Judith’s eyes. They reflected intelligence and had a predatory glint.
The coordinator brought Sophia’s coffee and scurried out before Sophia could utter a thank you.
“Married?” Judith asked as the door shut.
“No.”
“Engaged?” Judith rapid-fired.
“No.”
“Committed?”
“No.”
Sophia’s eyes popped progressively wider with each successive question that was inappropriate, if not illegal, under employment law.
“You will be. One or all of the aforementioned, and soon with those looks. Do you plan to . . . ?”
Judith edited herself for whatever reason.
Sophia surmised that Judith finally realized the illegality, not to mention the inappropriateness, of her questions. She met Judith’s boldness straight on.
“I have no plans to get married in the near future, but I do have plans to be a successful litigator. That is why I’m here.” Sophia smiled, forewarned and forearmed after Frank’s interview to counteract all negative presumptions.
“Look, honey, if you’re going to litigate with the big boys, weak and generic answers like that won’t do.” Judith slammed Sophia’s response. “And looking innocent with those big brown eyes will only go so far. Take it from me and my big green eyes.”
Judith burst out with a cackle that filled the office. Sophia was startled, but after a moment she realized this witch-like spasm befitted Judith. Properly cued, she joined in with a laugh of her own. She needed more than a neutral “okay” from this woman.
Judith abruptly stopped laughing and leaned forward.
“There aren’t many women at the top, you know. If you come to this firm, you’ll need a friend. And I am on the top. Woman to woman . . . do you get how tough it is?”
Sophia read Judith’s subtext, calculated the quid-quo-pro for Judith’s approval, and accepted.
“Yes, I do. But you did it and each one of your clients is lucky to have you, especially Wilcox & Hayden Builders. The trial you won for them was a tour de force. You convinced that jury—against all odds—that each house in that Calabasas housing development slid down the hill because of the owners and their watering habits. Quite something.”
“Frank texted me you were prepared and smart. And he thinks you’re tough and hungry. Are you?”
Sophia leaned forward and played ball.
“I am tough. I’ve had to be. And I learn quickly. Everything and anything. Hungry? I suppose. I skipped breakfast.”
Judith met Sophia’s attempt at humor with cold silence. She sipped her coffee and glared at Sophia over the rim of her cup. She was gauging whether she could use Sophia and how much there was to use.
Sophia sipped her own coffee wondering, if she came to Thorne & Chase, whether she could avoid this woman who had clawed her way to the top of the heap. After all, she had gotten a preview of this woman’s unedited, raw fight over a client. Sophia knew any mentoring by Judith would cost her half of any client she found. Half was pricey because an attorney’s future at any law firm was based on “billables” and getting your own clients. Sophia recognized she was no match for Judith or her kind. Not yet.
“Sophia, my friend at Bode told me you accepted their offer after working there as a summer associate.”
“I . . .” Sophia froze.
Sophia wondered how Judith knew she had accepted that offer just before she got her Thorne & Chase interview. Judith was dangerous, ruthless, and had just launched a surprise attack.
“No need to explain.”
Judith gauged Sophia’s reaction as she turned the screws tighter with her inside information. “You’re here to trade up. And why not? We have the unexpected slot and you want to fill it. Mum’s the word.”
“Bode is a terrific local Los Angeles firm, but Thorne & Chase is an international firm with international work.” Sophia rehabilitated herself.
“And a chance at the big money.”
Judith smeared her practiced big-toothed smile on her face again.
&n
bsp; “Yes, that too, but I want to be here to learn from the best. To become the best.” Sophia decided on the spot Judith would not rob her of her “trade-up” and that she would deal with Judith’s visions of client poaching later.
“I see.” Judith drummed her long red nails on her polished desk.
“I did enjoy litigating at Bode last summer. I got a taste of what it would be like to be a litigator at a good firm, but I want more. I want to be a great litigator at a great firm. I have a lot to contribute, too. I have an enormous capacity for work.”
“Well, dear, I never had a woman to mentor me. But I’m here for you if you come aboard.”
Judith had clearly decided she could cow Sophia, and that Sophia would play ball.
“You deserve a chance. Hell, I never got the highest grade in any class in law school.” Judith leaned forward. “Woman to woman . . . in any law firm, we have to help each other out.”
“I understand.”
Sophia knew she had to keep her thoughts close to the vest. And any client she found far away from Judith.
Judith stood up and shook Sophia’s hand.
“I look forward to working with you, Sophia, and seeing how your career develops.”
“Thank you . . . very much.”
Sophia was pleased with her performance and confident she had given Judith what she wanted, or at least enough to get a pass. But, as Sophia walked out, she shuddered at the thought of having to work with Judith.
⌘
Chapter 4
Partners Who Play
Up two floors at the Pacific Coastal Building’s West end, the coordinator stopped short with Sophia in the hall outside partner Daniel Toak’s office. A petite, dark-haired woman had marched in ahead of them and slammed the door.
“Oh, no.” The coordinator glanced at Mr. Toak’s empty secretarial bay. “We’ll have to wait. He’s meeting with Marlene.”
“Marlene?”
Lethal Lawyers Page 2