by Carsen Taite
“Sorry I’m late.”
Campbell looked up at her tall, slim brother, struck as usual by how much he looked like their father. She wondered if his hair would gray early like Dad’s had. Justin had earned the gray after taking care of her and their younger sister, Perry, after their parents’ death. The memory of the three of them, holding hands and standing graveside at the double funeral, clouded her thoughts, and she shook her head to clear away the image. “Words aren’t going to cut it, bro. You’re buying.”
“You may change your tune when you hear my news.”
She motioned to his chair. “Sit and tell all.” She picked up the menu. “But first I’m going to order everything on here.” She waved to the waiter and, after Justin nodded for her to go ahead, she ordered their favorites. As soon as the waiter walked away, she crossed her hands on the table. “Spill.”
“You’ve heard of Braxton Keith?”
“Of course. Founder of Leaderboard and featured in last month’s Rolling Stone. Wasn’t he also at South by Southwest?”
“Exactly. He was rolling out some new developments for the Leaderboard app.”
“Right. The Hunger Games of social media.”
“Maybe, but the IPO is expected to be priced at over seventy bucks a share.”
Campbell whistled low. The initial offering probably made her trust fund look like peanuts. “That’s insane.”
“Agreed, but not all is well in Braxton’s world. He may be looking for a new law firm.”
Campbell scooted to the edge of her seat. “And I have a new law firm.”
“Exactly. That’s what I told him.”
“Wait, what? When did you meet Braxton Keith?”
“At South by Southwest. My group was doing a showcase about some add-on software we’ve developed for apps like Leaderboard, and he stopped by to ask some questions about it. Everyone was super starstruck, but he and I hit it off and had some beers after. A few drinks in, he started griping about how the law firm his board hired are a bunch of stick-in-the-muds who barely even know how to use modern technology let alone know how to represent the guy on the cutting edge of it.”
“Hold up. You had beers with the Braxton Keith? Like for real?”
Justin grinned. “You hold up. He’s just a guy. A brilliant and pretty arrogant guy, but he’s not a superhero or anything.”
“He’s the lord of the internet and he’s a billionaire.”
“Little b billionaire, but yes, he has earned a billion since Leaderboard launched. But he mentioned they are starting to draw some lawsuits. The law firm they’ve been using is big on settling cases instead of going to trial, and he thinks it’s because they don’t understand how the site works or its significance. You understand how Leaderboard works, right?”
“Sure,” Campbell said, faking confidence she didn’t feel. She was on Leaderboard, but mostly because everyone else was, but she hadn’t taken time to figure out how to game the system to rise in the ranks. Besides, when it first came out, so many people were predicting it would be a flash in the pan. Except Abby. Abby was really into it. She made a mental note to call Abby as soon as lunch was over.
“I know that look,” Justin said. “It’s the ‘I’ll fake it until I can get to Google and look up what I need to know look.’”
“Maybe I could use a refresher.”
He rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. “Here’s the crash course. It’s a lot like all the other popular social media sites, but there’s kind of a competition angle to it because you can accumulate points. You create a profile and you get points for how much information you provide. That’s your base score and you need to score the minimum to even get on the board.”
“So long privacy.”
“And welcome to transparency. No Russian bots here.” He pointed to his own profile. “The goal really is transparency, so you know who you’re connecting with.”
“Makes sense. Keep talking.”
“There’s not a lot more to it. To rise in rank on the board, you need to earn more points by connecting and engaging with other people, but the goal is quality connections, not just quantity.”
“And how in the world is that measured?”
“That’s the magic. Brax has developed an algorithm to measure the quality, but basically the higher the quality of your interactions and connections, the higher you rise on the boards. For example if you post a meme and a hundred people like it, that’s good, but you’ll get even more points if people comment on the meme and then those people comment on each other’s comments. If you get well-known people, aka leaders, to comment, then you score even higher. The formula is pretty complex and it’s all very proprietary.”
“What’s he getting sued for?”
“Hell if I know. I only know he doesn’t care for his current law firm, which is where you come in.”
“So me, you, and Brax are going to meet up, have drinks, and he’ll hire Clark, Keane, and Maldonado to do all his legal work?”
“Maybe.”
“Explain to me again how you and the Brax became such good friends that you could help me land a pitch with his company?”
Justin shrugged. “What can I say? The guy knows talent when he sees it.” He pointed at his own chest. “Exhibit A. And I have no doubt that he will believe Exhibit B,” he pointed at Campbell, “being of the same bloodline of the House of Clark must also possess talent.”
“When you go full-on nerd, I know you’re really serious.” The waiter appeared with their food and Campbell dove into the fries. “My little golden stick of joy!” she exclaimed before biting into the crispy potato. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
“You must never abandon the golden stick of joy,” Justin proclaimed in his best Game of Thrones voice while waving a fry in the air. “Only woe comes to those to travel such a path.”
“Oh, trust me, now that we’re past the reunion, I’m back on fries.” Campbell munched another few to emphasize her point.
“How was the reunion? You know, besides you, Grace, and Abby deciding to quit your jobs?”
“You make it sound like we formed a cult.”
“Most people go to reunions to show off where they are in life, but you three…” He shook his head.
“I know, I know. It seems crazy, but seriously, it was the best thing I’ve ever done.” Campbell contemplated his original question. “The reunion was fun. A lot of people came in from out of town, and it was nice to see people I hadn’t seen in a while. I mean, it’s a big school, but everyone had a core group they hung out with, and after spending three years in each other’s business, five years apart made it feel like we hadn’t seen each other in forever.” For some reason Campbell’s mind wandered off as she was talking. Who was Wynne’s core group? She remembered she’d hung out with Seth Greer most of the time, but she didn’t recall seeing her around the common areas all that much. Wynne had taken some of the top honors in their class—she remembered that much from graduation—but she didn’t have a clue where Wynne had gone to work after graduation. Had she stayed in Austin? What kind of law did she practice?
More importantly, why did she care?
Because she felt a twinge of something the night she’d run into Wynne in the bathroom at the reunion. You probably just felt her pity because you couldn’t manage to stand upright.
No, it was something more than that. She hadn’t gotten the impression Wynne had been judging her. It was almost like Wynne had wanted to talk, to connect. Maybe she’d imagined it, but she didn’t think so. More importantly, why did it matter?
“Look sharp, sis. Guess who’s headed our way?”
Campbell shook away her mixed-up feelings about Wynne Garrity and glanced in the direction Justin was not so subtlety jerking his chin to see none other than Braxton Keith headed their way, a huge grin on his face. To Campbell’s surprise, he actually stopped at their table and clasped her brother on the shoulder.
“Justin Clark.” Braxton clasped Justin
’s hand. “Great to see you, bro.”
Campbell watched while Justin engaged in a surreal conversation with one of the most up-and-coming entrepreneurs in the country, and she took the time to assess Braxton up close. With his youthful looks, anyone passing him on the street would assume he was one of the many college students at UT, and his choice of clothing—Whiskey Shivers T-shirt, Chucks, and jeans—supported that assumption. She knew from the Rolling Stone article he was a twenty-seven-year-old graduate of MIT. Not a child prodigy by any means, but way more successful than most people her age. Including her. Of course that could change if she could win his business.
“Brax, meet my sister Campbell. Campbell is one of the founding partners of Clark, Keane, and Maldonado, a cutting edge law firm here in town.”
Brax turned his winning smile on her, and Campbell spotted curiosity in his eyes. She stuck out a hand. “Nice to meet the guy who’s turning social media into a gamer’s sport.”
His slow nod showed his respect for her assessment. “You a gamer?”
She wanted to say yes, but suspected Brax wasn’t someone to bullshit. Besides she could only speak the language for a few minutes before he’d figure out she was bluffing. “No, but when you grow up with a brother who writes them, you get honorary status. But I don’t have to be a gamer to appreciate Leaderboard.” Deciding she had nothing to lose, she pulled out a card and handed it over. “I hope everyone you have on your team appreciates your expertise.”
He glanced at the card and then tapped it on the table before slipping it into his pocket. “We should talk. Later. Right now I have a meeting.” His grimace said how much he was looking forward to it. “I’ll text you.”
“Perfect.” Campbell met his big smile with one of her own and waited until he was several feet away from the table to look at Justin.
“Bold move, sis.”
“Fortune favors the bold.”
“Yeah, don’t talk like that when you meet with him. You sound like a history teacher.”
“I’m working on my very best nerd.”
“That’s the thing. Nerds don’t want to hire nerds to represent them. They want lawyers who can communicate with the rest of the world on their behalf.”
“Got it. Hide the nerd gene.” Campbell looked across the patio where Brax was standing in front of another table. “He actually looks like a cool guy.”
“I’m guessing it’s partly an act. He’s dressed like a hipster because that’s what investors expect.” Justin followed her gaze. “I bet he’s meeting with some investors right now.”
Just then a woman seated at the table where Brax had stopped stood up and shook his hand and motioned for him to have a seat. There was nothing remarkable about the exchange except that the woman was Wynne Garrity, and she looked devastatingly beautiful in a sharply tailored black suit. How had she gone the five years since graduation without seeing Wynne and then run into her twice within a month? And more importantly, what was Wynne doing having lunch with Braxton Keith?
* * *
Wynne typed a quick email on her phone and then glanced at the menu. The thought of the big pile of work waiting for her back at the office robbed her appetite, and she couldn’t help but be annoyed Braxton had insisted they meet at a restaurant instead of at his office.
“What’s the matter?”
She looked over at the intern, Daniel, who’d tagged along for the meeting, surprised at the question. She needed to get her game face on. If he could tell she wasn’t happy, Braxton would probably notice too. All she needed was for Braxton to report to Stoltz one more reason he was dissatisfied with the firm, and then Stoltz would blame her if they lost Leaderboard’s business. “Not a thing. Just trying to decide between the chicken sandwich and a salad.”
He nodded, none the wiser. “I’m having the ribs,” he announced, setting aside his menu and folding his hands on the table as if his lunch choice was all the work he needed to do today.
Wynne shoved the menu back in front of him. “Pick again, big shot. Braxton Keith is a billionaire, but he doesn’t eat meat. You can, but nothing that’s going to gross him out like a bunch of bones on your plate. Also, don’t order anything that will take long to prepare. He doesn’t like to wait around.” She watched Daniel frown and then reluctantly reopen his menu to scan the choices. Normally she wouldn’t care if an intern wanted to make a fool of himself by taking advantage of the firm expense account and gnawing on messy food, but she needed Braxton to like this guy because Daniel spoke Braxton’s language— geek speak.
“Did you review the complaint?” she asked.
“Yes,” Daniel said, straightening up in his chair.
“Great. Tell me the primary causes of action Hendricks is alleging.”
Daniel cast a wistful glance at the menu and set it aside. “She’s got the usual fluff claims, fraud, intentional infliction of emotional distress, breach of contract, but she’s also alleged business disparagement. The big one is tortious interference with prospective business relations.”
“And what facts does Hendricks allege to support that one?” Wynne already knew the answer, but part of her job was to teach the summer interns, and she was curious to see if Daniel had done his homework.
“Hendricks has been trying to cross over from music to film for a while, and last year she was up for the lead in a feature film about Joan Baez, but she lost the part when her Leaderboard ranking tanked shortly after her engagement to Dash Wilder fell apart. Wilder has a top tier ranking on Leaderboard and a bunch of his connections severed ties with her after the breakup. Basically, she blames Leaderboard, specifically Braxton Keith, for all her troubles.”
Speaking of Braxton, where the hell was he? Wynne glanced around and then spotted him standing across the room, chatting with a couple who were seated on the other side of the patio, looking like he had all the time in the world. Technically, he did because she was definitely billing for this, at four hundred dollars an hour. A few minutes later, after she’d listened to Daniel change his mind a half dozen times about what he planned to order, Braxton finally headed their way. She stood as he approached the table and motioned for Daniel to do the same, annoyed at his lack of manners. Hell, she sounded like a little old lady.
“Wynne, sorry I’m late. I ran into a friend, and…”
He kept talking, but she didn’t hear him because her gaze was firmly fixed on a face across the room. The woman had had her back to her when she’d been seated and talking to Braxton, but now that she’d stood up and her profile was in full view, there was no denying the familiar face. It was Campbell Clark.
“Have you already ordered?”
Braxton’s voice cut through her foggy brain, and she willed the cloud of Campbell to clear. “Yes. I mean, no, we waited for you. Your secretary said you love this place.” She pointed at the menu, resisting the urge to look in Campbell’s direction again. “Any recommendations?”
Braxton shoved his menu to the side. “Actually, I like to come here for the patio. I’m going to have a salad, but order whatever you want.”
Wynne heard Daniel sigh, and she nudged him under the table and gave him a quick shake of her head. “We were just looking at the menu. Shall I order three of the house salads?”
“Sounds great,” Braxton said, setting aside his menu. Wynne shot Daniel a stern look, daring him to challenge her decision, but he simply handed her his menu and echoed Braxton’s words.
Their salads were delivered quickly, and over the next forty-five minutes, Braxton insisted on talking about everything except Leaderboard or the pending litigation. Wynne bit her tongue and went with the flow, certain that Braxton would rebel if she tried to steer the conversation in a particular direction. Daniel didn’t seem to care at all, content to swap stories with Braxton about the last sci-fi con he’d attended and the amazing new games he’d had a chance to test drive. For a few minutes, Wynne even zoned out, her mind drifting back to the Campbell Clark sighting. Campbell was no longer
on the patio, but Wynne wanted to know why she’d been talking to Braxton in the first place. Was their acquaintance personal or professional? Unlikely it was professional considering Worth Ingram did all the legal work for Braxton’s enterprises, a representation envied by all the top firms in Austin, likely Campbell’s as well.
She’d Googled Campbell after the reunion. Campbell had done quite well for herself. She was a fifth-year associate at Hart and Dunn, and she’d been active with the local bar and the state organization of young lawyers. Wynne wasn’t sure why she was surprised at Campbell’s accomplishments. People like Campbell usually cruised to success on their charm and good looks, while people like her had to claw their way there.
Speaking of clawing, she realized she better get Braxton to focus on the lawsuit against Leaderboard or she’d have nothing to report to Stoltz when she got back to the office. She let a few beats pass after the waiter cleared their plates before treading carefully into a more substantive conversation. “Brax, we have a couple of upcoming deadlines we need to discuss in the Rhea Hendricks case.” No sooner had she spoken the plaintiff’s name than she felt him tense and stiffen.
Brax shrugged. “She’ll go away. Nothing more than a disgruntled diva.”
“That may be true. Eventually. But the fact that she filed a lawsuit is a clear sign that it’s going to take some work to get that to happen.”