Side Bet Bluff Ch. 05

We were getting a lot of looks from the surrounding tables, but screw it. In the face of losing our jobs we needed to blow off a little steam. And the girls were really letting loose.

As we made our way to the elevator my cell phone rang, and I recognized Steven Beck's private number on the id screen.

I glared at Karen as I answered it. "Good Afternoon, Mr. Beck." I heard Jenny let out a small, light giggle.

"Will, I just heard. What are your plans?" the always going a hundred miles an hour Steven Beck said.

"You just heard? What did you just hear?"

"That your office is closing. Glenda just got off the phone with me."

"Well that's good to know, Mr. Beck. They haven't officially announced it to the rest of us."

"Yes, yes, but you were already in the know. I know you, Will. The very fact that you didn't act shocked proves it. Now before the offers come flooding in to you, you have to promise that you'll have a sit down with me. Really, the timing of this couldn't be more fortuitous. I'll tell you all about it. Belinda! When can I sit down with Will? What? Ok, Wednesday. Lunch. I'll send a car."

"This Wednesday?" I asked, surprised. I didn't know he was going to be in town.

"Is that alright? Of course it's alright. You promised. Ok, I'll see you on Wednesday. Don't let anyone talk you into anything before then. Ok? I gotta go. Oh, and tell that Karen Wilkerson or something to tag along. Belinda wants to meet her."

"Certainly, sir. Karen has been wanting to meet her face to face ..."

"Sure, sure, sure. She's probably been nagging you almost as much as Belinda has me. Just don't be surprised when I try to steal her from you. HA! Just kidding. Ok, I'm off, kiddo. See you Wednesday."

"See you [click] ... Wednesday."

And the call was over. He's kind of like a steamroller -- hard to change direction once he gets going.

"Told 'ya," said Karen.

"Looks like you're going to finally meet Belinda," I told her. "He's sending a car for us to have lunch on Wednesday."

"Mr. Jennings?" asked Allison. "Do you think you'll need a paralegal when you go to work for Mr. Beck?" My heart just about broke when she asked that. The job market had to be just as bad here for paralegals as it was for attorneys.

"We'll see what happens. I guess I should ask this ahead of time -- how do you feel about moving to New York?" I asked her.

"New York?"

"That's where his fund's headquartered. I've gone up there about half a dozen times. The office is a nice place, but smaller than you'd expect."

Karen looked like she was going to say something but Jaycee filled the moment first. "Of course he'll hire you, Allison," Jaycee assured.

"Jaycee ..." I warned her.

She closed her mouth but gave me a look like it was inevitable that her predictions would come true and I was just being stubborn to resist it. Women drove me absolutely crazy sometimes (or maybe I should say most of the time). Their general attitude seems to be 'ooh, you're so gruff, strong, masculine, and in control, I love it, and now I'm going to change everything about you and get you to do everything I say.'

Jaycee spent the rest of the walk back to the office trying to pry information about Steven Beck - from what he looked like, to how he acted and treated people, even asking about the clothes he wore when he came to the office, and to how I'd gotten him as a client for the firm. I kept the fact that I had originally met Steven Beck through a fantasy football league to myself, because of all the ways to get a client that had to be the most ridiculous. I tried to give her some small tidbits on everything else. I allowed Jenny to do the most talking, and would give warning glares at Karen whenever she started to add something. I could tell it was driving Jaycee crazy. Hey, she said she liked it when I teased her.

As we returned to the office, Jaycee made sure we all promised we'd meet again at Pip's, the bar down on the ground floor, for "happy hour" after our respective meetings were over. The irony of the popular drinking time's name was not lost on anyone. Jaycee herself was going to run some errands and then head back to the apartment. Before leaving, she pulled me into a dark corner out of sight, gave me a deep kiss, and had me glide my hand up her covered legs. As my hand moved up, Jaycee had to grab hold of her skirt with both hands and raise it up. It was so tight I wouldn't be able to do much exploring otherwise. It turned out those grey hose were in fact thigh high stockings. And no underwear? No, she was wearing a thong, which allowed me a nice firm hold of her ass as she wrapped one of her legs around me. Her breath caught in her throat when I touched her butt, though she didn't flinch. My prediction of her getting over her ass phobia by the end of the week looked like it was practically fulfilled already.

After we put Jaycee's outfit back into place, we exited the dark corner only to find Karen, Allison, and Jenny all still waiting for us. Karen gave us mock applause. Jenny smiled at us. Allison was looking at us like ... I really don't know. I just could not get a very good read on her.

I could go into minute detail about the meetings that afternoon and how an office goes from full-blown economic endeavor on Friday, to closed for all-time by Monday, but it doesn't really suit the purpose of this story. I will call attention to a couple things, though. They gave all of us associates the option of remaining on the payroll for four months while we looked for another job, in order to not show any gaps in our employment record. And if we got another job before the four months was concluded we'd have to inform them and the paychecks would stop. Or, we could take the entire four months worth of paychecks up front in a lump sum, and our employment would officially come to an end at five o'clock today. It really wasn't a choice at all. The legal community is actually incredibly small. By noon tomorrow every firm in every major market in the country would know that our office had closed. To pretend otherwise by stretching it out and perhaps not getting as much money was just silly. Surprisingly, a few people took the extra time. Maybe they thought they could take a four month vacation before starting the job search? I don't know. I gladly took the lump sum and headed for the door.

The bigger issue was when they asked everyone to turn in our cell phones. I thought the associates were going to turn into an ugly mob, complete with torches and pitchforks. It was only resolved when we called a representative from the cell phone service, who promised to switch us to personal plans for the same rate and using the same phone number so long as we bought a new phone within thirty days. I could tell the entire group was going to go en masse to the closest store immediately. The only time I've ever even heard of a lawyer without their phone is on a family-imposed do-this-or-I'm-divorcing-you vacation (which every married lawyer has to take once a year, otherwise the spouse starts thinking divorce with alimony won't be much of a change from staying married). The cell phone rep gave us a special code to use in the store and that was that.

The IT rep told us our email addresses would continue to work for thirty days, but made us give them our personal addresses so they could auto-forward everything there, as well as set up auto-responses with instructions to use the different email for all personal correspondence.

It looked like they had procedures in place for everything. And there was a lot of paperwork. We had to sign documents promising not to reveal confidential client information (which we'd already signed when we were hired, but lawyers believe strongly in 'cover-your-ass' letters and overkill). Promises not to sue the firm for breach of contract. Promises that we'd completed all of our assignments and had not kept any necessary information from the clients. Promises that ... who knows? It took way, way, way too long.

When I signed my name on the last piece of paper, the administrator said that Mr. Wiseman, the managing partner, wanted a quick word before I left.

I found him in his office along with a small grouping of other expensively dressed individuals.

"Ah, William, please come in," he said. "Christie, will you and the other ladies give us the office please?" His personal secretary, Christie, and a few others whom I didn't recognize quickly gathered up their things and left.

Mr. Wiseman then introduced the two remaining gentlemen to me. "William, this is Jonathan Toons and Frank Mason from our New York office." They moved with the deliberate slowness and elegance of men who were used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

"Oh yes, of course," and I shook their hands. "Mr. Toons, I read your article on international hedging using financial derivatives during the Asian financial crisis. Quite prescient analysis."

Mr. Toons looked surprised. "Oh, did a partner force you to read that in case I called down?"

"Of course not, sir," I laughed. "I just had a strong interest in the subject matter."

The two New York attorneys shared a look with Mr. Wiseman, who appeared smug.

Mr. Wiseman took control of the conversation.

"William, I know that today's events were probably a shock to you. How are you holding up?"

"Fine, sir. I think everyone here has been aware of the economy and the possibility of layoffs. I must admit that the complete closing of our office took me by surprise," I guardedly said.

"Yes, of course," Mr. Wiseman agreed. "In anticipating layoffs, did you put any feelers out for other job offers?"

"It's a bad market out there for attorneys, as I'm sure you know," I conceded, "but I'm confident I'll land on my feet."

Mr. Toons jumped in. "William, the firm has decided to close this office because most of the work that was done here can easily be incorporated into that of our New York office. For the most part, it's pretty generic financial work for large clients that don't really need a local presence down here."

I happened to disagree with that last statement. Even though most of my work was done via conference calls and emails, the fact that I could be at someone's office for a face-to-face meeting was a marked advantage. I'd frequently have attorneys from our New York office defer to my opinion on how our local clients would react to certain proposals since I was the 'man on the scene' and thus must have a better understanding of the clients.

"We've decided to extend offers to a few select attorneys from this office who we think show particular promise," he continued, "and whom we'd like to have stay within the family."

"Would you consider relocating to New York?" asked Mr. Mason.

I had to think very fast while slipping into negotiation mode.

"A big reason why I selected this office, apart from my growing up down here and being immersed in the culture, is because it paid New York salaries while having a much lower cost of living," I divulged. "A lateral transfer up to New York would be a big step backwards for me in effective salary."

"So you're saying that you should be paid more than a fourth year associate in New York" asked Mr. Mason "even though you'll be coming in as an outsider not, as you put it, immersed in the culture, and having to pick up the details of our New York clients?"

"I thought you implied that we would be keeping the clients from this office," I parried.

"Obviously our clients will be notified of our closing of the local office," stated Mr. Toons. "Just how many do you think would stay with us if you were named as their lead attorney?"

So. There it is. They were really asking me how many of Glenda Roberts's clients I could steal from her. There were a few other partners who I did work for, but I knew what they meant. Of course, if I decided to part ways with both the firm and Glenda I'd be fighting over the same clients, only then it would be a three-way battle.

"Off the top of my head, I'm confident in ... eleven," the three exchanged glances again, "and I think I'd have a fighting chance on another seven or eight."

"What do you mean by fighting chance?" asked Mr. Toons.

"This is under the assumption that Glenda Roberts will be staying in the area, and probably joining on to another major firm. It would be her longer experience with the clients versus the fact that I'd personally done the bulk of their legal work for the past two years. Inertia, and the selling of our firm's great resources I think gives me an edge for a good number of them. But I'll have to do a hard sell, and not being here locally would hurt," I calculated.

"Would your eleven confident picks include all five clients you brought in to the firm?" asked Mr. Wiseman.

"Yes," I stated.

"Including the Beck Fund?" asked Mr. Mason eagerly.

And there it was out in the open. This is what the entire conversation and transfer offer was about.

"Not only will I keep the Beck Fund as a client, but I anticipate an expansion of the legal services I," and I put special emphasis on the word 'I', "provide them." Ok, that may have been a bit of a stretch. But I had to present as strong a hand as I could conceivably get away with in this negotiation.

Again the three exchanged glances, with Mr. Wiseman's face showing an 'I told you so,' look.

Mr. Toons picked up the conversation. "I think we could take the opportunity of your transfer to bring you up to a fifth year associate with the commensurate bump in base salary," he offered. "And you would find your annual bonus to be heavily influenced by the clients you bring with you."

"How heavily influenced?" I asked.

"Potentially ... seven figures," he said.

"What?," gasped Mr. Wiseman. "For a fourth year associate, that's unheard of!"

Pfft. For such an experienced attorney, Mr. Wiseman was surprisingly not a good actor. I spent a few minutes trying to nail down exactly how my bonus would be calculated. They tried to give the firm as much wiggle room as possible.

"Why don't you go back to the compensation committee and figure out exactly what formula you're going to use," I offered, "with whatever variables you think are appropriate, number of clients kept, value of legal services provided, what have you. Then commit it to paper for me. I can't make a decision until I've got that information."

"I'm sure we'll come up with something that is more than fair," Mr. Toons answered.

"Good," I concluded, "I look forward to looking it over."

[to be continued]