As they trailed behind the maître d’ to a table in the center of the large room, Sophia had no idea what she would say to the collection of male suits awaiting her, all of whom stood in unison on her approach to the table.
“Hello. Joseph Steinert. Call me Joe.”
Joe shook Sophia’s hand with gentle vigor. He was a small man with dark receding hair and green eyes. He was neither attractive nor unattractive. His energy and smile were his assets.
“I have the office next to Dante’s.” Joe released Sophia’s hand. “He popped over and said how impressed he was with you.”
“Thank you.” Sophia was pleased, because she had liked Dante.
“And this is Taylor Meston, a recent junior partner.”
“Hello.” Taylor shook her hand with a single brief motion.
Taylor was high-calorie eye candy: a tall, broad-shouldered man with deep ebony eyes and fashionably disheveled brown hair, with just a hint of gray at the temples, framing his chiseled face.
The waiter held Sophia’s chair as she sat, snapped her linen napkin, and put it on her lap. The men fended for themselves. Sophia was irritated. Not only because it was a sexist ritual undoubtedly ordained by the restaurant, but also because suddenly she’d had enough high-end for the day. She needed to go home, put on sweats, and stuff her face with cheap delivery pepperoni pizza and butter pecan ice cream, or maybe mint chocolate chip.
As Sophia settled in, she assessed the politics of the table. She yearned to be back at law school where it was enough to just do the work: take notes, read cases, make outlines, and take the exams. She didn’t have to be with working adults and deal with all the petty politics that came along with them. She also thought back happily to her teaching career because, although she had to be an adult, she was not stuck with other adults most of the time.
In the legal profession, Sophia was not only an adult amongst adults, but these particular adults were warriors. Warriors who required that she be an ever-charming, ego-stroking female as she did combat.
“Nice to meet you all.” With wide eyes and a pleasant smile, Sophia mustered up her ego-stroking charm. “This is a beautiful restaurant. Is the food good?”
“Wonderful. The lobster ravioli is marvelous,” Taylor replied too eagerly, showing a keen appetite for either the lobster ravioli or Sophia.
“Take a look at the menu, you two.” Roger impatiently turned to Joe. “Can I talk to you at the bar for a minute?”
“After we order? Okay?”
“No, it can’t wait.” Roger stood, overtly overriding Joe’s objection born of good manners.
“All right,” Joe acquiesced. “I’m sorry, Sophia. We’ll only be a minute. Taylor, will you get the wine?”
“Sure.” Taylor watched the two cross the room to the bar.
“Roger looks intense.” Sophia fished to see if Taylor would volunteer anything about Roger’s contingency fee case.
“Oh, Roger is always worked up about something.” Taylor turned his attention to Sophia. “What would you like? Red? White? Any favorite? Now’s the time.”
“Anything is fine. You must have a favorite.”
Taylor considered the list, as Sophia considered Taylor’s classic features. She glanced at Taylor’s left hand on the table. No ring. She hoped Joe and Roger didn’t hurry back. Suddenly, she didn’t mind stroking another ego.
With the wine list open the sommelier appeared, as if by magic.
“We’ll have the 2003 Manzone Barolo Le Gramolere.” Taylor handed the wine list back.
“Excellent choice, sir.”
The waiter replaced the sommelier instantly.
“Give us an antipasto and the stuffed artichokes for four, ASAP.”
Sophia remembered her lunch-mates wanting to graduate to recruiting dinners so they could order wine.
“Sparkling water, sir?”
“Sure, and bread.” Taylor turned his attention to Sophia as the waiter left. “So you want to hop on the Thorne & Chase treadmill?”
“Yes, I do. All I need is an offer.”
“You do get to the point, don’t you?”
“When I need to.” Sophia smiled.
“I don’t do offers. That’s Joe’s job,” Taylor said with a glint in his eye as he watched her for a reaction.
Sophia fought hard to suppress an excited grin as her heart leaped in expectation of an offer.
“I’m just a pretty face with a big appetite.” Taylor looked into Sophia’s dark eyes. “I bet you’re not just a pretty face, though.”
“That’s right.” Sophia paused with a Mona Lisa smile and then threw caution to the wind. “And is Joe here to do that job tonight?”
“Did I say anything?” Taylor chuckled mischievously, delighted Sophia had taken the bait.
The sommelier returned with the wine. Taylor made short shrift of the tasting and gestured to go ahead and pour in all four glasses.
Taylor took a drink of his wine and smiled. “Don’t look so worried. They need associates to staff the cases. Our no-show associate is missed right now.”
“You make it sound like they will take any warm body.”
“Come on. In this tight job market they could have any one of a hundred graduates. You’re just what they want. I’ve seen your resume. We want you, and from what I hear, you definitely want us.”
Sophia looked down and adjusted her napkin. She was so happy she wanted to get up and run around the restaurant jumping and screaming, “I made it.” She wished she could toast the victory, drink a couple of glasses of wine, and relax. But she needed to stay sober now until the actual “offer and acceptance.” She remembered her first year law school contracts class.
Sophia put her left hand on her lap and crossed her fingers. Then she took a tiny sip of her wine, pretending to be calm.
⌘
Chapter 12
Skeletons Out of the Closet
Taylor drank his wine and tried to catch Joe’s eye at the bar. Roger was still talking and now gesturing enough to attract more than a few eyes. Sophia, in her own world of internal elation, began to seethe as she watched Roger keeping Joe from presenting her offer.
“You’ll have to excuse Roger. He’s lobbying to bring a controversial case into the firm.”
“The contingency fee case that Frank doesn’t like?” She wanted to impress Taylor with her inside knowledge.
“Whoa, good thing you’re almost one of us.” Taylor smiled broadly, displaying his sparkling white teeth and dimples. “You are starting to know our secrets.”
Sophia worried she should have kept her mouth shut, but was excited that Taylor had said she was “almost one of us.” She wished Roger hadn’t come to dinner and delayed the process.
Taylor finished his first glass of wine. The waiter refilled it and then poured the sparkling water all around as a second waiter brought the antipasto and bread with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.
“Let’s just see what you do know.” Taylor put salami and dried tomatoes on a chunk of bread and before he took a big bite asked Sophia, “Tell me, why doesn’t Frank like bringing that case in?”
Sophia grabbed a piece of bread, took a big bite, and chewed to gain thinking time, but finally had to shoot from the hip. “In contingency cases the money comes after trial—or not at all if you lose.”
“Good. But those two key issues are more involved. Even if you win, it’s hard to collect the money because there’s a long appeal process during which they try to force you to settle for less.” Taylor paused and drank his wine. “Also, when our attorneys are working the case, no cash comes in for their billable hours, sometimes for years, but they are still getting their salaries and bonuses. Even though the bonuses might be reduced, it still hurts.”
“There’s insufficient cash flow.”
“Right. Good. Big firms can absorb a monthly deficit if they need to, but the judgment call is whether the deficit is worth it. Everyone has to be willing to accept the reduced salaries and b
onuses. Well, everyone who matters, meaning the most important partners and the Management Committee. Associates and staff get paid regardless so that part of the monthly nut has to be met. The equity partners get a share of the profits after expenses, so reduced cash flow really affects them, and those with the biggest shares get hit the hardest.”
“And Frank is management, isn’t he?”
“Yes. And he is balancing the likelihood of a win and the probability of collecting the money against the present value of the monetary deficiency. There you have it. Two years ago a big downtown law firm collapsed due to that collection delay and so many hours down the contingency hole. Of course, it was already in trouble from partners leaving with their books of business, but the contingency-fee-collection problems tipped the balance. In a nutshell, that’s why contingency fee cases are controversial. Of course, they had other issues, but that case was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“Logical.”
Sophia was enjoying Taylor’s company as much as the knowledge imparted. She relaxed and took another, larger sip of her wine.
Taylor added, “Roger has to accept the Management Committee’s decision. And Frank isn’t just management, he controls the Management Committee.”
She glanced over at Roger and then put some mozzarella and olives from the antipasto onto her small plate, “Roger doesn’t look like he wants to do that.”
“Obviously.”
Sophia knew she had to stop stating the obvious. It was an unappreciated mode of discourse in these circles. She needed to stay quiet and smart until the offer came.
“Oh, hell, you’ll hear about this anyway. Most of us believe this contingency case of Roger’s is worth the cash flow problem and Frank is blocking it to exact revenge for Roger’s fight with him over the last two cases Frank blocked.”
“The cases that got Martin & Martin’s client a 5.4-million-dollar settlement and Kroeger’s client 3 million dollars. And this one is worth 5.8 million and a sure winner. With large settlements come large fees for the firms.”
“My goodness, you are impressive.”
Sophia sat up straight and smiled. She had not stated the “obvious” that time.
“Would Frank ignore the good of the firm for revenge?” Sophia took the lead in the conversation.
“No.”
“Just how intense was their fight?” Sophia asked, assuming it was like the exchanges she had seen earlier in the day at the firm.
“Very,” Taylor chuckled. “Physical, in fact. Old Frank is ex-Army, Korea. When Frank shoved Roger out of his office, Roger took a swing and missed. Then Frank decked him, boot-camp style. The staff who saw it had a field day.”
“Can you blame them?” Sophia thought back to the deranged junior partner Frank had killed.
“Not really. Frank is colorful. I’ll give you that. You can bet I wouldn’t get into it with him,” Taylor chuckled. “After the fight, Roger knew he was a political hot potato and he tried to get a separate contingency fee intake committee for any future cases without Frank on it.”
“He clearly lost.” Sophia stated the obvious yet again, but after her skillful demonstration of firm knowledge, this time it drew no sarcasm from Taylor.
“The Management Committee won’t give up any of its power. I wouldn’t either, if I was on it. Those five have been there forever. The big guns.”
“I met them all today. “
“What did you think?”
“I liked them.”
“Liar.”
“No, really. Especially now I know they want me at the firm, why wouldn’t I like them?”
“They should want you here. You are more than qualified and I heard you have a quality Frank likes. I had it too.”
“What?”
“Hunger.” Taylor smiled archly while grabbing prosciutto from the antipasto plate. “And speaking of hunger, did the usual pair of Pac-Man associates tag along for lunch at the Grill?”
“Pac-Man associates?”
“Yes, Adam and Sean are like the little heads in the Pac-man game that eat everything in sight?”
“Good analogy.” Sophia laughed and bit into her bread.
“They are always up for lunch. If I had known you were so charming, I would have volunteered for lunch as well.”
The waiter brought a large serving of broiled stuffed baby artichokes topped with Parmesan cheese and breadcrumbs. Taylor grabbed one and so did Sophia.
“If you talked football you would have fit right in,” Sophia said, ignoring the flirtation this time and Taylor’s mischievous dimpled smile.
At that moment, Sophia was focused only on her offer from Joe. Besides, she presumed a man with Taylor’s looks must use them with everyone.
As if her thoughts had conjured them, Joe and Roger finally started back toward the table, Roger looking even more disgruntled.
Taylor leaned over to Sophia. “You know that you should keep things a little closer to the vest in the future.”
She looked into his ebony eyes. He winked and smiled his dimpled smile. Disarming as they were, she knew she had disclosed valuable political capital just to show off. She would not make that mistake again.
⌘
Chapter 13
A Winner of a Dinner
Joe rejoined Sophia and Taylor at the table. Roger followed, finishing a call on his cell phone, and then sat. Assembled again, everyone ordered. Taylor got the lobster ravioli, Sophia the same in honor of his flirtation with her, and Joe and Roger the swordfish. The wine flowed and the hors d’oeuvres disappeared.
“I’ll get another.” Joe signaled the sommelier and got another bottle of the same.
“Let’s get the business over with so we can enjoy the dinner, Joe.”
“Yeah, I have to get back,” Roger blurted, gulping his wine and texting under the table as if no one noticed.
Joe threw both men a reprimanding look and then turned to Sophia.
“Sophia, this is an important moment for you and it is for the firm also. Tonight, we are extending you an offer to join us at Thorne & Chase. We know you’ll fit in well.”
Sophia was caught off guard with a full mouth of bread, but was able to mumble, “I accept.”
“Great.” Joe lifted his glass to toast and the others followed suit. “Welcome.”
“Thank you,” Sophia said with an empty and now articulate mouth.
She was bursting with pride from the offer and the fact that they thought she would fit in well. This was the best moment of her life. The moment she had worked day and night for all during law school: not dating, not seeing her friends, and not seeing her family except for Christmas. She had denied herself everything and knew she deserved this.
“You’re on board.” Taylor approved.
“I am. It’s simple first year contracts. Offer. Acceptance. Contract.” Sophia laughed.
Joe laughed and Taylor joined in. Roger looked up from his phone and chuckled to be polite.
“One more thing, although it’s a bit unusual. The firm is extremely busy and we’d like it if you could start this week.”
“This week?” Sophia parroted back before she could stop herself.
“You can’t back out after I shared firm lore with you.” Taylor chided.
She looked at the two men and smiled dollar signs to herself.
“Back out? I’ll start tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow it is. Nine thirty,” Joe approved. “I’ll arrange it with our personnel director. So let’s eat.”
Sophia relaxed. This was it, her dream. This was really it, a big paycheck in two weeks.
“Welcome aboard.” Taylor held his glass up and the others followed suit, touching glasses without the bombastic glass clicking that went on in Greek toasts.
She drank her wine, a full swallow this time. Despite all of her accomplishments, despite the pride and triumph she felt at the moment, there was still the fear that they would discover she was an impostor. She knew that she had success
fully and skillfully hidden her fear that she didn’t belong in this rarefied world of high-powered suits and white linen tablecloths. She knew she was still barely a “house-broken,” but educated, daughter of immigrants as Frank had observed.
Sophia’s suggestion that she start tomorrow was not out of eagerness, as she wanted them to believe, but out of a lingering fear that they would rescind the offer before she began. She knew from labor law that, once an associate started, firing them was hard and often not worth the trouble—especially if they were trained to litigate the way she soon would be, and by the best.
⌘
Chapter 14
Tiramisu and Espresso
Sans Roger
Roger ate his dinner quickly. He didn’t join in any of the banter or the mini-orientation the other men gave Sophia. After the waiter cleared the dinner plates, Roger charged out of the restaurant with little ceremony.
“I’m sorry. Roger has a lot on his mind.” Joe called the waiter over.
“It’s fine. I visited with Roger in Carlisle’s office. He has things to do.”
Sophia played everything close to the vest as Taylor had suggested. Taylor and Joe nodded in approval.
“Tiramisu and espressos all around,” Joe ordered.
“Cappuccino for me.” Sophia’s accepted offer made her more comfortable, and the wine made her more relaxed.
“One cappuccino,” Joe called to the waiter.
“You’ll love the tiramisu. It’s special.” Taylor killed the second bottle of wine by topping off the three glasses. “You’re joining the firm just in time. The firm retreat is in a month. At a resort outside of Santa Barbara, Southern California’s answer to Napa Valley”
“Do you golf?” Joe asked.
“No.”
“Tennis?” Taylor asked.
“Not really.”
“Swim?” Joe guessed.
“I ride.”
“Motorcycles?” Taylor exclaimed. “I’m impressed.”
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