“I have no expectation of ever finding a client or staying here," Tricia said. “My only D-Day is the day I pay off my student loans or marry Jay.”
“All I want to do is keep my head above water, pay off my loans, and stay away from all the politics.” Sophia peeked at her broken Timex in her pocket. “It’s seven-fifteen. I’ve got to get going. I’m going to the Grill for a first day drink with Taylor.”
“Oh,” Tricia perked up. “Tell me. Tell me.”
“It’s just a welcome drink.”
“He didn’t take me to one.” Tricia teased with a smile.
“He took me to one,” Paul chimed in. “You’ll love the happy hour food. It’s great and free. It’s been many a Friday night dinner for me.”
“Jay and me, too,” Tricia laughed.
“Do you guys want to come?” Sophia asked disingenuously, because she would rather be alone with Taylor.
“I have to get a client letter out,” Tricia declined.
“I have to finish up here. We all have football tickets tomorrow.”
Tricia leaned over and whispered, “Besides, I think you should go for it.”
Paul knew what the whispering was about and ignored it. “Saturday is a great match this year. U.S.C. v. Stanford. You’ll have to get tickets with us next year. Jay has the contact.”
“I’d love to. Well, drop by if you guys get done.” Sophia extended a perfunctory invitation, hoping they would not show up.
She reached across and took the calendar from Paul.
“By the way,” Paul said. “Get rid of that stuff. Why invite trouble?”
“Trouble?” Sophia probed.
“Figure of speech. Just fly below the radar. You’re new.”
Tricia teased, “The only attention you want to invite is Taylor’s.”
Sophia smiled, but she wasn’t going to get rid of anything for now.
⌘
Chapter 31
A Quaff Too Far
At The Edinburgh Grill, Taylor introduced Sophia to Belhaven Scottish Ale. It was smooth and creamy. She nursed it carefully after the champagne.
Their booth overlooked the dimly lit mahogany bar where James, Anne, Sean, and Adam were enjoying happy-hour with other young professionals. Sophia was enthralled. As a Bode summer associate, she had hung out at an earthy Irish Pub further towards the lower-rent 110 freeway area—nothing like this.
“I’m surprised Paul’s not down there putting on the feed bag with Tricia.” Taylor grabbed peanuts from a bowl on the table.
“I asked them to drop by, but they had to finish up some things.” Sophia feigned disappointment at their absence. “They have USC tickets tomorrow and I guess Monday morning’s going to be non-billable too, with Judith’s funeral.”
“Ah.”
“Are you going?”
“To the football game?”
“The funeral. It’s at the Westside Temple on Wilshire.”
“No.” Taylor looked over at the line forming for the food in the far corner. “You’ve got to try the ribs here. They have them every Friday. And then there’s the German style potato salad, no mayo, no calories except for the bits of bacon.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“Why am I not what?”
“Going to the funeral.” Sophia knew she was not going because Frank had given her the perfect time-sensitive assignment and his absolution.
“Because, unfortunately, I knew her too well. No junior partner’s going.”
“A statement?” Sophia drank her beer.
“Not intentional. Just not going. Let the senior partners go—and the press, if they’re interested anymore.”
“I haven’t seen any lately.”
“Yeah, Chet’s a gem, isn’t he?”
“I think so, so far.”
“Good for you.”
Sophia looked at Taylor quizzically.
“I mean it. Good for you.”
Across in the dining room, the maître d’ was seating Dante, Frank, Carlisle, and Chet at a round table with five chairs. Frank pointed at the wine list and the maître d’ signaled to the wine steward.
“There they are. Frank, Carlisle, Chet, and Dante. The Management Committee minus one.”
“Dante wants to bring me here for lunch.” Sophia tried to lift the mood.
“I hate to break it to you, but that jovial snake charmer will bring anyone here who’ll eat with him. This is the only decent place close enough for him to carry his body.”
Sophia ignored the unkind comment because she chose to. “Those four have a lot of planning to do with Judith gone.”
“Planning? Yeah, right.” Taylor looked at the men being served their wine and mumbled. “I hope the parasites are planning to be de-hosted.”
“What?”
“Forget it.” Taylor finished his beer and signaled for two more.
Sophia saw Detective Rutger make his way to the Management Committee’s table. There wasn’t one woman who didn’t at least glance at him. Frank shook his hand and Detective Rutger sat in the fifth chair.
“Who’s that guy?”
“He’s a police detective.”
“A police detective?” Taylor looked over at Sophia, surprised. “How do you know that?”
The detective refused the wine the waiter was trying to pour by putting his hand over his glass. He took out a notebook and talked with the partners, who were riveted on every word.
“I ran into him outside of Frank’s office today.” Sophia felt important.
Taylor looked at her and waited, poised intently for more information. She was mesmerized by his deep ebony eyes. She liked him.
“Earth to Sophia.”
“He’s investigating Judith’s fall.” Sophia regained her focus. “I heard him talking about his forensic team going over the stairwell. He’s waiting for the autopsy and getting the stairway’s card data.”
Taylor glared quietly at the table of five. “Excuse me a minute.”
Taylor took out his cell, texted something, and then quietly watched Dante and Chet talk to the detective. Frank was stoic. Carlisle shook his head. When the detective left, the four sat silently drinking their wine.
“They look defeated, but looks are deceiving.” Taylor muttered.
Sophia touched her purse with Doug’s calendar inside. “I have a question about Doug and Jim.”
“Shoot. I’ll answer if I can, but you have been here one day, and you seem to know more than I do about everything. I’m a junior partner, apparently in the dark.”
Sophia hesitated.
“Sorry. Come on,” Taylor coaxed, adroitly turning on his charm on Sophia again and signaling to the waitress for two more beers. “What do you want to know? Are you giving credence to associate gossip?”
“No, not really.” Sophia felt defensive and wanted to prove herself in-the-know. “I found a calendar with some notes in Doug’s desk, now mine, of course.”
“What notes?” Taylor threw the question at her with the sharp edge of a litigator cross-examining.
“Never mind.” Sophia turtled her head back into her shell and shoved her purse aside.
She remembered Paul’s cautionary warning. She regretted showing off. She regretted bringing up Doug’s notes.
“I’m sorry.” Taylor softened his voice and smiled enough to show his perfect white teeth and dimples. “Go on, please. Deposition days leave me edgy and ready to pounce. What notes?”
“That’s all right. Some day I hope I know that feeling.” Sophia was alcohol relaxed, enchanted with Taylor’s company, and curious—all together a bad combination. “I believe your name was mentioned.”
“Mine?”
“Well, at least Roger, Doug, Joe, Marvin’s names and then a ‘T’ that meant you. I think?”
“Really? What were the notes?”
“I don’t know. Just the names grouped together.”
“Where are the notes, Sophia?”
“I . . .” Sophia was put
off by Taylor’s aggression again and knew she had gone a step too far because she had taken a quaff too much. “I threw the calendar away.”
Taylor sat studying Sophia a long moment.
“It’s not important. But it’s trashed. Right?” Taylor leaned closer to Sophia.
“Right.”
She forgot about the calendar and breathed in Taylor’s musty smell. Maybe it was the champagne and beer, but she had the uncontrollable urge to touch his face.
Taylor grinned because he knew what Sophia was thinking, and studied her carefully.
“Besides, everyone knows what your little group is up to, anyway.”
“And what is that?” Taylor dark eyes narrowed.
“The lawsuit to get your clients back. What did you think I was talking about?”
Taylor sat back and relaxed. “Yeah, the lawsuit.”
Taylor drank his beer, glanced at the Management Committee eating their dinners, and then looked back at Sophia.
“Let’s talk about you, Sophia. You interested me before. But now, I have to say, you fascinate me.”
She was glad, because Taylor fascinated her. He was everything she wanted. He was successful, handsome, gregarious and, most of the time, kind. But most importantly he liked her and there was chemistry between them.
“And what would you like to know?”
“For starters, do you have a boyfriend?”
Suddenly, Sophia’s perfect intimate moment was interrupted before it began by Roger.
⌘
Chapter 32
Trust or Betrayal
As Roger slid into the booth next to her, his long legs kneed the table pedestal underneath, jarring the table and the beers.
“Ah, so you were right, there is a pow wow at the old watering hole tonight. The big four are already planning who should take Judith’s place.” Roger glared at the table of managing partners across the room.
Sophia couldn’t help but observe his huge nose in profile. She now was sure Taylor had texted him to come.
“Beer?” Taylor asked.
“I thought it took a firm vote?” Sophia questioned.
“It’s supposed to,” Roger sneered with his yellow teeth.
Taylor signaled the waitress for another beer. “Sophia says they are meeting with a police detective about Judith.”
“A police detective? What the hell! How do you know . . . ?”
“Let’s go get some food, Roger,” Taylor cut him off. “Sophia, can you hold the table? We’ll get yours.”
“Sure.” Sophia was annoyed at Roger’s presence and her big mouth that started the snowball rolling to the text that brought him to the Grill.
As the two men walked toward the appetizers, it was déjà vu all over again. Roger was agitated, much as he had been at her dinner the night before. When Roger caught Sophia scrutinizing them, she looked away. Her pleasant evening with Taylor was obviously over. She sat up, sobered up, and put on a guarded game face again.
After a long ten minutes, Roger and Taylor came back with three plates of food. They ate nothing and both sat silently. Sophia ate to absorb the alcohol.
“So go ahead and talk. She knows about the lawsuit,” Taylor said. “Most of the firm knows.”
“Doug has a big mouth.” Roger took a long drink of beer.
“Doug is careless. Sophia even found some notes in the stuff left in his old desk.”
Roger was startled. “What did you find in his desk?”
“Nothing really. I threw everything out with the old candy.”
Sophia wasn’t sure if either of the men believed her, but she knew she didn’t like this “third degree.” She was angry Taylor had repeated what she had told him. If she were going to survive in this shark tank, she would have to learn to keep her mouth shut, no matter how attractive the listener was or how friendly.
“What did the notes say?” Roger slipped into litigator mode just like Taylor had.
“I didn’t pay much attention.” Sophia pointedly changed the subject. “Are you going to Judith’s funeral Monday?”
“Why? To dance on the bitch’s grave?” Roger finished his beer and looked around for the waitress.
“Watch it, Roger,” Taylor cautioned.
“They’d better watch it,” Roger got up. “Another beer, anyone?”
Sophia shook her head and Taylor nodded affirmatively. Roger went to the bar.
“I’m sorry. Roger gets hot under the collar, but he’s harmless. He’s just under a lot of pressure right now. He told me he’s lobbying for a junior partner—not a full partner—to take Judith’s place on the Management Committee. A voice for us. He means well; a lot of firms have done it that way. But it’s an uphill battle.”
Taylor looked over at the table of four finishing their dinner. “Roger’s not going to let them get away with what they are doing.”
“Your lawsuit?”
“Precisely. Now that Judith is gone, you may rise through the ranks and take her place.”
Taylor took his beer and clicked it on Sophia’s.
“I am very careful what I wish for. Frankly, she wasn’t very nice.”
“Nice has nothing to do with rising in the ranks.”
“I’m beginning to see that.”
“Well, we all grow up.”
“I wish you hadn’t told Roger about Doug’s stuff.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I know Roger and I trust him.” Taylor reached under the table and squeezed Sophia’s hand.
“But he’s your friend, not mine.” Sophia still felt uneasy. “I don’t know him.”
“It won’t happen again.”
Sophia savored the moment, which ended abruptly when Roger reappeared with two cold beers. The night she had wanted was destroyed.
As quickly as she could, she took her leave of Taylor, Roger, the tension, and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse topping off their dinner with cappuccinos and brandies. Working late would have been better than this.
⌘
Chapter 33
Questions and an Answer
Saturday morning, Sophia was up at five and had coffee at home while she listened to the CD on deposition strategy, question format, and how to draft deposition questions. She billed every minute to Frank’s Crondall case.
She memorized the section on objections to deposition questions, especially the easy ones like “vague” or “compound” or “calls for speculation.” She silently thanked her college English professors for teaching her about sentence structure and particularly compound sentences. Deposition questions had strict rules, and Sophia would make sure all of Frank’s were objection-proof. She didn’t want to get kicked off his cases like Tricia.
By seven-thirty, Sophia was at work in her Saturday jeans, a t-shirt, and an old jacket. Paul was wrong about her not continuing to notice the magnificent lobby; she was still awed by it. When she signed in with lobby security, a procedure followed at night and on weekends, she saw that Frank, John, James, Roger, and several other Thorne & Chase attorneys were already there.
In her office, Sophia started working on the Crondall deposition for Frank. She read the pleadings: the complaint, answer, amended complaints, and amended answers. Then she carefully studied the lease: every word, especially the attorney’s fees clause. When corporations of this size fought, the damages were big and so were the attorney’s fees.
She was interrupted by a turn of her door handle. She looked up as the door slowly opened and Roger’s large nosed profile popped in.
“Sophia? You’re here!”
“Yes, I’m here. And so are you.”
Roger buried his surprise.
“Just wanted to apologize for last night. I was going to leave a note.”
“No need.”
“You’re busy. If you need anything, drop by.”
Roger backed out and shut the door.
Sophia was angry. She didn’t trust for a second that he came to apologize. He was after the calendar.
He didn’t believe she had thrown it away.
She had lost her concentration and decided she would go for coffee and a nibble. She took her purse with Doug’s calendar still inside and went down to the cafeteria to see what was available on Saturday.
* * *
In the cafeteria, there was everything Sophia wanted, including a friend and a bagel with cream cheese.
“Hey, Paul.” Sophia took her coffee and bagel over to join Paul at a table in the corner. “I thought you had a football game.”
“Hi, Sophia.” Paul looked up from his blueberry muffin. “I don’t have to leave until two. So what are you doing here?”
“Frank’s depo questions for San Francisco Tuesday, a change of venue motion, and an answer for Frank’s new federal case.”
“Sink-or-swim! Frank is famous for that. If you have any questions let me know, but before two.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you and Taylor hit it off last night?”
“For a while, then Roger showed up.” Sophia smeared cream cheese on her bagel and took a bite.
“Roger’s intense.”
“I told Taylor about Doug’s calendar and notes. Then Taylor told Roger. It went down hill from there. Roger’s scary.”
“I warned you to keep your mouth shut. Those guys play for keeps.”
“I told them I threw it all away. I don’t think Roger believed me, because he came creeping into my office a few minutes ago . . . obviously because he thought I wouldn’t be there.”
“Well, toss it. Toss everything.”
“I will.” Sophia sipped her hot coffee. “We saw the Management Committee, or what’s left of it, having dinner at the Grill last night.”
“A pow wow. I’m not surprised.”
“Taylor and Roger didn't like the detective joining them.”
“Wait a minute.” Paul put his muffin down. “A detective?”
“Detective Rutger. I met him outside Frank’s office yesterday. He’s investigating Judith’s death for ‘foul play’.”
“God, Judith just never stops making trouble, even after she’s dead. I was there. She fell. Accidents happen.”
Lethal Lawyers Page 13
