Page 6 of Not That Guy
Brenner
A call came through on my personal phone, from the firm of Walden, Booth, and Roth. For one wild moment, I thought it might be Weston, and I alternated between thrills and fear before deciding I was behaving like an idiot and answered it.
“Hello? Brenner Fleming.”
“Mr. Fleming, this is Joanne Wilcox calling for Daniel Roth of Walden, Booth, and Roth. Mr. Roth would like to know your availability for lunch this week.”
Instantly on alert once I heard who was calling, my brow furrowed. “I’m sorry? Lunch?”
“Yes. He said it’s your choice of days.”
“Uh, well,” I fumbled, a bit shaken by this out-of-the-blue invitation. “My time is limited for the remainder of the week, but I’m free today if he’s available.”
“He is. Twelve thirty?”
A quick check of my calendar showed my next meeting to be at three.
Could this concern the Fuller-Swanson meeting?
It wouldn’t surprise me if Weston had whispered something derogatory in his senior partner’s ear.
Why that would necessitate a meeting with his senior partner was beyond me, but I would put nothing past Weston Lively when it came to making himself look better at my expense.
“That sounds good.”
“I’ll make a reservation at The Bar Room at The Modern on Fifty-third. Does that work for you?” I admired her brisk efficiency.
“Yes, I’ll be there. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Have a nice day.”
I had a meeting in half an hour I should have been preparing for, but instead I read up on Daniel Roth and the firm.
Impressive was an understatement—offices all over the country, with top-tier attorneys.
Superstar clients. The senior partners were all on the boards of numerous bar associations and authors of leading articles quoted in legal publications. Their winning cases set precedents.
Of course this would be Weston’s firm.
Annoyed, I clicked out of the multiple screens and tackled the work I had in front of me. There was no reason to be jealous—we might not be top tier, but our firm was well respected, and we didn’t lack for our own well-known clientele. My phone buzzed.
“Your ten thirty is here, Brenner.”
“Thanks, Donna. I’ll be right there.”
My clients deserved the best, and that was me. I’d never give them anything less than one hundred percent.
**
It almost felt like I was playing hooky by leaving the office in the middle of the day. Lunch for me was most often a sandwich or salad at my desk while I read files or caught up on emails.
The Bar Room was adjacent to the Museum of Modern Art and overlooked the outdoor sculpture garden. I hadn’t been inside a museum in years and vowed this would be the year I kicked my cultural ass in gear. If I could find the time.
The hostess led me to the table where Daniel Roth awaited. I’d never personally met the man, but I’d seen him lecture and I’d read his articles. He was brilliant at both. At my approach, he rose and smiled.
“Thank you, Brenner, for meeting me on such short notice. I appreciate it.”
We shook hands, and I sat opposite him. A server approached, and Roth and I chose sparkling water. Then I waited.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve invited you here.”
“The thought did cross my mind, yes,” I joked. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had a conversation before.”
“No, but that doesn’t mean I’m not aware of the bright stars in our ranks.”
I might be closing in on forty, but it still gave my heart a happy bounce to hear a compliment from one of the giants in the profession. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say and nice to hear.”
At the server’s interruption, we ordered lunch. We each wanted the pea soup, Roth ordered the beef, and I chose the lobster pasta. He clasped his hands, and I girded myself, but for what, I wasn’t sure.
“We’ve decided to expand our family-law division. Our clientele and caseload are growing, and we’ve had our eye on you for a while as someone we feel would fit in perfectly with our mission and goals.” He took a sip of water. “Thoughts?”
Stunned, I sat speechless.
Behind silver-rimmed glasses, Roth’s eyes twinkled. “I see I’ve surprised you.”
A weak smile curved my lips. “To say the least. I’m extremely flattered.”
“I hope there’s not a ‘but’ at the end of that statement.” Knowing Roth’s reputation, I gathered he didn’t hear the word “no” often.
“I’m not saying that. Of course, I’d need to know more about what you have in mind.”
“Of course.” He proceeded to outline an offer, after which I needed a moment to recover before I responded.
“I don’t know if you’re aware that I grew up in foster care—it’s why I chose to practice family law.
I never knew my parents and had no desire to find them.
After several attempts at placement, I found wonderful foster parents, who told me to dream big and never stop reaching for the top.
” My entwined fingers trembled, and I hid them in my lap.
“I’m overwhelmed, to be honest. Walden, Booth, and Roth is the apex of the mountain, and to receive an offer of partnership is beyond my wildest dreams.”
“You understand the way we’re structured—and your compensation? I’m not asking what you make at Roman and White, but I have a good idea. I hope you think this is a worthwhile move for you.”
“I understand.” Unprepared as I was for this offer, I knew enough of the procedure to ask pertinent questions, and by the time our food arrived, I had a good idea of my workload, how much my buy-in would be, and my compensation.
If I were interested, of course.
We tabled the business discussion, and Roth spoke of his family, particularly his grandchildren. I listened and waited for the inevitable question.
“Are you married or do you have a significant someone?”
“No. Just me, myself, and I.”
Roth laughed. “Sometimes that’s the best company one could wish for.”
“It wasn’t easy being a foster child. Other kids kept away from me, either by choice or due to parental wishes. I was bounced around until I reached the Dunns, who loved me as if I’d been born to them. My foster parents were my best and, for the most part, only friends.”
Frown lines bisected Roth’s brow. “That’s a sad way to live, but I can understand why you feel that way.”
Somehow I doubted that Daniel Roth, founding partner of his law firm, board member of MOMA, and grandfather, could relate.
“In a way it helped me in my career. They pushed me to rely on myself and trust my instincts.”
“I think you’ll find that our firm is different.
Yes, we’re a large firm, but we know each and every person who works for us.
In many ways we’re like a family.” That charming smile tugged at his lips.
“Sometimes we disagree and shout. We can be annoying and occasionally dysfunctional, but deep down we work for the good of the people we represent and the firm itself.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a law firm describe itself like that.”
With the dishes cleared and the bill paid, it was time to go.
“Brenner, I truly think you’d fit in with both the work ethic and the personal dynamic of our firm. I hope you seriously consider our offer.”
“I will. Again, I’m thrilled to be considered for partnership. I have a lot to think about, as you can imagine. And thank you very much for the delicious lunch.”
We shook hands and parted ways. I chose to walk the ten blocks downtown to run the information through my head.
It hadn’t crossed my mind that a partnership offer would be the reason for our meeting, and shockwaves still rumbled through me.
Me, a foster kid who used to cry himself to sleep at night after finding out he wasn’t invited to the Friday night movies, Saturday night sleepovers, or Sunday video game get-togethers.
Pearl and Bill Dunn, my foster parents, had done all they could—rented the newest movies, got all the best snacks and candy I could eat—but it didn’t matter Monday morning, hearing everyone at school laughing and talking about their fun weekends.
As I grew older, I took Pearl and Bill’s positive words about me to heart and used my time to study.
I’d gone to a specialized high school, gotten a scholarship to college, and graduated in the top one percent of my class.
Bill and Pearl had urged me to go away for university, spread my wings, but Pearl couldn’t keep her illness a secret any longer, and I chose to stay home and help.
A perfect LSAT score, recommendations, and being valedictorian of my college class garnered me a full ride to law school.
When it was obvious Pearl wasn’t going to make it through my winter vacation, we had Christmas at her hospital bedside and buried her right after the new year.
She made me promise to keep reaching for the stars. To come out on top.
My three p.m. client was delayed, so I picked up my phone and called Bill in Pompano Beach, Florida, where he’d moved three years earlier.
“How’s my hotshot doin’?” He cackled.
“I don’t know about that, but I’m doing well. That’s why I’m calling. I need your advice.”
“Lay it on me, kiddo.”
Bill had been a New York City bus driver for thirty years.
He’d let me wear his uniform cap and would bring me down to the depot, where I’d get to sit in his lap in the driver’s seat and pretend to drive the bus.
He’d tell everyone I was his son and bragged about how I was going to be the first in his family to go to college and be a doctor or a lawyer.
We’d gotten even closer since Pearl died. And I missed him terribly.
“I’ve had a partnership offer.”
“You’re already a partner, I thought?”
“I am. But this is with another firm. A bigger, much more established firm. It would be a huge step-up career-wise.”
“What’s to think about?” I heard him shake the ice in his cup and couldn’t resist a smile. Pearl had made him kick the soda habit, and Bill always carried a big cup of ice with sparkling water.