Legal Reserves

by James Rosenberg

  “Now it’s your turn.” Jeri touched Mike’s elbow as he picked some cracker crumbs off of his green striped sweater. “What’s going on in farming country? Tell me something juicy.”

  Mike groaned inwardly, feeling insecure as to how his life compared to those of some of his classmates, including Jeri. “First of all, it’s not farm country. It is a small community of over twenty-five thousand people, only a few who actually own farms.”

  Jeri laughed, nearly spilling her wine. Mike continued, “It’s not what I expected to do when I was in school. I thought I was going overseas, but my uncle needed me. We do a lot of interesting work, a little criminal, a little family law, but mainly people come to see us because they’ve been hurt and we try to help them. We handle a lot of smaller cases with some larger ones mixed in, but we are in court all the time trying to move our cases.”

  “How’s your uncle?”

  “He’s doing fine. He’s pushing seventy now, but he’s in the office every day. He’s been my mentor and he’s taught me so much. I think I am learning to be a competent lawyer and if I am, it’s mainly because of him.” Mike stopped for a moment and a sly smile came to his face. “He’s been an amazing mentor for me, but we don’t sleep together. Do you think I should?”

  Jeri shrieked and smacked Mike on his elbow. “You bastard, I think my situation may be a bit different than yours, and no, I think you should leave your relationship with him the way it is.”

  Jeri quieted down and the silence felt comfortable to Mike. She lowered her head onto his shoulder and Mike touched her hair. “I missed you,” Jeri said. “I miss the simplicity and intensity of law school. I like what I have going on now, but I feel like time is moving too quickly and I am missing something. You know what I mean?”

  Jeri’s question was interrupted by the doorbell. Jeri excused herself and returned seconds later to introduce Alan, who deftly took off his coat and shook Mike’s hand. Mike admired the crispness of Alan’s clothes: the dark green wool pants that contrasted the fitted light grey sweater. Mike immediately felt comfortable with Alan and happy for Jeri.

  Mike and Alan sat on the couch and began lightly bantering about subjects dear to both of them: Pittsburgh sports and politics. Jeri watched as the two men she had been closest with in her adult life bonded.

  While enjoying their beer and wine, Jeri beckoned her guests to the dinner table and welcomed them with a toast. After some soup and salad, Jeri inquired about their other law school friend, Jack.

  Mike frowned. “We talked about two years ago, but since then, only a couple of texts. Nothing of substance−he was out drinking with some co-workers and he told me I should fly to Chicago and go out with them.”

  Jeri peered over at the framed pictures arranged neatly on a shelf in the living room. Some of the images captured the three of them on the couch in the boys’ apartment during law school. “I know, it’s been so long since I’ve talked to him. Last time he told me he was on the fast track to partnership and he was going to jet us all to some island for a vacation. I never thought it would happen, and it didn’t.”

  Alan grabbed some chicken off of the tray. “It sounds similar to my law school friends. We were close back then. Everything was so important, but people move away or get too busy and then you don’t see them anymore. I’m still in touch with some of my buddies, but some I don’t know what happened to. Not so long ago they meant more to me than anyone else in my life.”

  Mike wanted to talk about how things had changed since graduation. “I don’t know. The three of us were so tight in school. We spent virtually every day hanging out and then, poof, it’s gone. I don’t think I will ever find anything comparable to what we had then. My uncle is a stand-up guy, but I don’t want to hang out with him all day, every day. We need to find a way to get Jack here so we can spend some time just the three of us. Alan, you can join us and see how cool we were back then.”

  Alan and Jeri laughed. Mike wondered when the three law school buddies would ever spend time together again.

  Chapter 18

  September 29, 2016−Three years after Graduation from Law School

  JACK RAISED HIS beer and clinked glasses with the mugs of his three co-workers. Foam sloshed onto the metal table, mingling with the pretzels and already spilt beer.

  “Thanks Jack for organizing this trip,” Bill Pycheck said as he wiped a splotch of beer from his striped button-down.

  “Don’t worry about that, Bill. We’re going to spill lots more before I begin talking with the young ladies in here.” Jack swept his arm behind him and his group trained their eyes on the packs of young women engaged in conversation, but who were still aware of the men at other tables. “At least you’re not wearing that five hundred dollar suit you had on at work,” Jack said loud enough for others in the bar to hear and hoping they were noticing him in his stylish blue jeans and form-fitting long sleeved t-shirt.

  Jack turned his attention back to his group. “Gentlemen, and lady,” Jack said with feigned seriousness, forcing his face to contort pompously, “we must say goodbye to our dear friend Vy Bock, a man we spent a lot of time with, but one we hardly knew.”

  The group chuckled and each member simultaneously tossed back a swig of beer. Pycheck threw an arm around his departing friend. “Seriously, you will be missed. I thought out of all of us, you would be the first one to make partner, you are so damned smart.”

  Bock caught Pycheck’s gaze. “Thanks man. It’s been more than three years and I need to be doing something else. I’m burned out and too young to be spending sixty hours a week in the office. I never could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

  “So, what are you going to do?” Pycheck asked.

  “I’m not sure. I realized last week I can’t do this anymore. I don’t think writing memos for legal issues tangentially touching cases brought by multi-billion-dollar companies is for me. I saved some money, so I’m going to take some time and travel. After that, who knows? I want to put my law degree to some socially meaningful use.”

  “Oh, I thought everything we did had significant social meaning,” said Jack, not attempting to hide his sarcasm.

  Peggy Gamble was morose. “We began with nine of us and now there is only going to be three. They work us until we drop. Kind of like horses, aren’t we?”

  “But we are better dressed,” retorted Jack to the chuckles of his friends.

  “Come on, take this seriously,” Gamble said. “Does anyone care that at this rate none of us will be around in a couple of years?”

  “Hold on,” Jack said, starting to get his ire up. “We are still here and there is a reason. So far, we worked harder and performed better than everyone who started with us. We are all on partnership track if we keep on doing what we’re doing.”

  Gamble’s face flashed red. “What makes you think you are so much more talented than the rest of the group? The only reason we are still here is because we are willing to work two thousand five hundred hours every year and not make waves. Dave Remback, remember him? The partners told him to leave after eight months because he dared to ask for two days off when his aunt died. They told him an aunt didn’t count as close enough of a relative and if he took time off, not to come back. So, he didn’t come back.”

  Gamble stood and paced around their table before sitting again to continue: “Bev Norvack−she hinted about getting married and possibly having a kid−so at her next performance review the partners suggested her work was substandard and gave her two weeks to find another job. It’s bullshit. We are only here because we tow the company line and kiss some ass.” She locked eyes with Jack, whose eyes narrowed.

  “Hey, all I am doing is trying to get to know everyone at the firm. It’s called being friendly. Perhaps you’ve read a little about it?” Jack lowered his head and gave his best doe-eyed impression. “You know, a few well-placed blowjobs usually do the trick. Y
ou should try it sometime.”

  Gamble faked dumping her beer on Jack and said, “By the way, I don’t think any of us are on partnership track. When we are all gone, nobody will remember our names.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Jack said, leaning forward on his stool. “I am planning on making partner in three years. I actually have a couple of cases of my own. A few of the partners assured me if those go well and the clients are happy, I could be looking at a long career here.”

  Gamble slumped back into her chair. Silence hung for a minute as each stared off in different directions.

  “Well, I’m thrilled for Vy,” Pycheck said. “I’m sure he’s going to be a success at whatever it is he ends up doing.” Bock smiled warily. Turning to where Jack had been seated he inquired, “Don’t you think so, Jack?” No response greeted his question and the group turned to find his seat unoccupied. Further up the aisle, Jack was resting his arms on a table while talking to a leggy brunette. She threw her head back laughing at Jack’s banter, causing her permed hair to bounce.

  Vy grunted in astonishment. “At least we know Jack is going to be where he wants to be tonight.”

  Chapter 19

  November 9, 2016−Three Years after Graduation from Law School

  JACK TRIED TO sit straight as possible in the leather chair. He forced himself to breathe, but didn’t want to make any noticeable movements. Ed Wagner stalked around his office yelling at the bronze statue on the bookshelf and in the direction of the windows, but Jack knew he was the subject of the tirade.

  “Two weeks ago, I asked you to cover a deposition in a relatively simple matter because a federal judge summoned me over to court on another case. This was a chance for you to impress−take your first deposition. You seemed so eager to please, but then I read the transcript.”

  Wagner sat back into his chair and began waving the transcript over his head. “It’s not so hard−you ask questions, you get answers, and you show you are in charge.”

  Not sure if Wagner wanted him to respond, Jack remained silent, wondering why his mentor was so mad.

  After Wagner had given him the file, Jack spent the next three days reviewing every pleading and all of the discovery that the parties had taken. Jack learned the plaintiff, an overweight Mexican immigrant, claimed their client, a national supermarket chain, spilled some pickles in an aisle and failed to clean them up. The store employees said they weren’t aware of the spill until the plaintiff fell. The spill was significant, so the clerks questioned how the plaintiff did not see it while walking through the aisle.

  After questioning the witness, Jack reported back to Wagner that everything had proceeded as planned. He summarized the plaintiff’s testimony and was surprised when Wagner did not respond with enthusiasm. “Let’s wait until we review it on paper,” Wagner had said.

  As Wagner waved the transcript over his head, Jack wondered what he had missed and why Wagner’s cheeks were so fiery red.

  “Do you know what a deposition is for?”

  Jack guessed he was supposed to answer this question. “Yes, I was trying to find out what knowledge the plaintiff possessed and what he didn’t know.”

  “Of course, but don’t throw back at me what you learned in school. This isn’t law school anymore. With a deposition your job is to demonstrate who’s in charge. Scare them. Show them you mean business. Then you get the information from them. It’s not social hour. You are not there to make friends with the other lawyer or to provide hospitality. You’re to put on a display for our client.”

  Jack was confused. “But you told me we are supposed to teach the other side how to dance so ultimately we can reach a settlement without a lot of risk.”

  “True, you’re correct, but who’s your audience for this deposition?”

  “Well, the other attorney was there and so was the plaintiff’s wife.”

  “No,” Wagner bellowed as he interrupted Jack. “You are doing this for the client. Don’t you realize our clients read every transcript−exactly what I want them to do. They review the deposition and they learn how hard we are fighting for them. We are not telling jokes with the other attorney. We are not worrying if everyone is comfortable. We are showing the people who pay our bills we are kicking ass and we are always protecting their interests.”

  “But what if I am getting all the information I need without kicking butt?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I spend lots of time with our clients educating them about how lawsuits are won. I build up their expectations so they think every case is World War Three. By being a hard-ass at the depositions I’m only doing what they expect of me. Ultimately, I try to set their expectations at a high level so when we settle for less, they are thrilled.”

  Wagner rubbed his brow and sighed before continuing. “You didn’t do any of that. You sound like a little pansy. Our client is going to be extremely concerned about who we are letting handle their cases. Now I’m compelled to do damage control.”

  The blood drained from Jack’s face. He thought he had handled the deposition perfectly and assumed Wagner would shower him with praise. Instead, Wagner was berating him.

  Jack peered at Wagner inquisitively and, trying to save some face, asked what he could have done differently.

  The question caused Wagner to interrupt his rant. He slowed and sat back in his chair. He patted the deposition now resting on his desk. “Jack, you have a lot of outstanding qualities and I think you are going to make the kind of lawyer that will do well at this firm and make our clients want you.”

  Jack relaxed ever so slightly and tried to take in what Wagner was telling him.

  “The point is,” Wagner began, “you know where the case is going before you walk into the conference room to question their witness. You’ve talked to the plaintiff’s attorney and begun dancing with him. You’ve managed his views of the value of the case and you’ve already set the client’s expectations for something worse. So when you go into the deposition, you want to demonstrate to the client you’re in charge and you control everything.

  “For example, make sure once you enter the conference room everything is on the record. Make sure the court reporter is ready to begin transcribing the minute everyone is in the room. Don’t ask people where they want to sit, tell them. Don’t make pleasantries or ask the plaintiff if he wants something to drink. Just start. Everybody gives instructions to witnesses at the beginning of a deposition, but yours didn’t do anything. This is the time to throw out some scary stuff−clients love that.”

  Jack sat quietly and wrote notes on his yellow pad as Wagner lectured. “Give them the usual instruction about if they don’t hear a question they should ask you to repeat it, but also remind them they are under oath and outline the penalties for perjury, including the possibility they can go to jail. This may never happen, but our clients think you are hard hitting when you throw it in.

  “When you start the interrogation, don’t begin with the personal information, you can ask for their home address and kids’ names at the end of the deposition. Start right with the meat. I don’t want you to ask open-ended questions. Lead the witness right to the correct answers. When you let them pick their own words they talk forever. When you tell them what the answer should be, the other attorney may object, but it reads better on paper.”

  Wagner’s instructions on how to take a deposition amazed Jack. His advice contradicted everything Jack learned in law school. Although Wagner was more concerned about the client’s reaction to what was said than the reality of the case, Wagner explained if Jack made the other attorney dance, the facts didn’t matter. What mattered more was the client’s belief that it might pay a huge verdict compelling it to allocate more money to a settlement.

  Wagner spent the next two hours instructing Jack on how to take a deposition. No textbook Jack studied in law school mentioned any of these concepts. When Wagner finished, Jack had near
ly filled his yellow pad with notes. Wagner summarily dismissed Jack who left his office in a daze. Although he had practiced law for over three years, Jack still couldn’t grasp the complete puzzle of litigation. His stomach churned with the craving to attain Wagner’s status.

  Chapter 20

  January 12, 2017−Three years after Graduation from Law School

  THE STEAM ROSE from the coffee as Mike wrapped his hands around the cup, trying to gather some warmth. He sat in the vinyl booth directly across from his uncle as they did most days before trudging to the office. Patrons filled the booths along both sides of the diner. Waitresses rushed to bring food as quickly as the cooks prepared it. The din enveloping Mike and his uncle did not interfere with their conversation.

  “We’ve dealt with who the Pirates should trade and you’ve listened to my diatribe on the Steelers’ defense, but you haven’t told me anything about your visit with Tony Walters,” Stan said.

  “Not much to say,” Mike said, looking down at his coffee. “He’s an old high school friend who was visiting some family. We went out last night. Not much to do to impress a friend here in Pottstown. We had a couple of beers and now I’m not feeling so great. Just trying to shake out the cobwebs and keep up with topics you keep throwing at me.”

  “Now I understand why you are not looking your best. You should probably start eating a little healthier.”

  “Thanks Uncle Stan, that’s a big help.” Mike leaned back in the booth and yawned. “Any cases you want to talk about before we head to the office and deal with the phone calls and emails? You know how much I appreciate your questions early in the morning.”

  Stan smiled as the waitress silently placed their oatmeal and bagels in front of them. They dug into their food in silence. Stan wiped the remnants of oatmeal from his lip. He hesitated before beginning, “I wanted to tell you something, but I am not sure what to say.”